This weekend, my son’s football team played against their local rivals. My son built it up. It was going to be heated. They hated each other. Blood would fly. Unfortunately, it was an anti-climax. They only had nine players and we swept them away 8-1.

There has to be something wrong with the world when we can’t find 11 14-year olds to play football. It became the source of debate on the sidelines. The overriding opinion pointing to the video game industry as the main spoiler. Children don’t go outside to play anymore. They have all the entertainment they need at their fingertips. Virtual football is more appealing than sliding tackles in the dog dirt.

When I was a kid I had no video games. I would go to school, play football at morning break, go back to class, play football at dinner break, go back to class, head home, throw my school bag at my Mum, go out and play football, come in for tea, and then kick a rolled up pair of socks around the hallway with my sister.

I’m a football nut. I don’t play anymore, but when I was a kid I played Saturday morning, Saturday afternoon, and Sunday morning. I also watch a lot of football. Manchester United is my team. There was a time when nothing would prevent me from watching the mighty reds, or England.  At 40-years of age I would say I am a bit of an expert when it comes to football, but that all changed this past week.