Boxing Day football with Clement and Louis

Boxing Day dawns bright and clear, I check for the deer in the field this morning when I let Norman into the garden, but they are not there today. Normy runs back indoors, wagging his tail in anticipation of breakfast and then takes post while I make our usual full English. I am taking my grandsons to the football this afternoon, it will be Louis' first professional game, Hull are playing Leicester, and their manager, Nigel Pearson, left us to join them, so there is a bit of needle in the game. I make Norman walk down to the bridge, but he is reluctant to walk, without his pals, Teddy and Dolly, nevertheless we manage it and he sees an old friend, the one eyed Jack Russell bitch from the stables, who looks to be even older than him. They stop and sniff each other and compare notes, probably complaining about the lack of manners in modern puppies. He walks home off the lead, with much greater enthusiasm than on the outward leg and we return home about eleven. I am out of oaties, so bake a batch in the oven and then make some hot cocoa in a pan, which I pour into a large thermos flask to take to the match. With a fleece blanket, a Tupperware box of oaties and thermos of cocoa in my bag, I drive to Sarah's house and collect the boys at half past one before driving into Hull. The traffic isn't too bad despite the Boxing Day sales, and we park in our usual place, outside a block of flats near the hospital that are owned by a friend, Mark. As we get out of the car, Mark arrives with his son Jamie, who was Clement's best friend for eighteen years, until they fell out over a girl. Everyone hopes they will make up, but it has been over a year already. It is about half a mile to the KC stadium, but Louis and Clement want fish and chips first, so we part ways with Mark and Jamie and head to the chippy. Louis and I share a portion and Clement decides to have a jumbo sausage instead of a fish. We finish the meal and then walk with the crowds to the stadium, Louis is starting to realise that the "footy" is a bit special. Our seats are in the family section, on the first row, next to the pitch, which means Louis gets to see the players up close, but the overall view of the game is limited. There are over twenty thousand fans in attendance today and the roar when the teams come out onto the pitch really impresses the little chap. The game is very evenly matched and ends in a scoreless draw, but Louis has enjoyed it, the thing he enjoyed best is chanting "come on city!" and "the tigers, the tigers". Clement and I had season tickets every year before he left for university, so I have hopes that Louis may fill the vacancy. The ever present rain starts to fall during the second half of the game, and we walk back to the car in a downpour, despite this Louis wants to go again. Sarah rendezvous with us at Willerby MacDonald's and takes the boys to Richard's sister's house for a party and I drive home to Tickton, arriving around six thirty. It is still raining heavily so Norman has to make do with a quick run in the garden before I open a tin for his dinner. After the fish and chips I don't feel like a cooked meal, so make a tossed salad and open a packet of smoked salmon, enhanced by a glass of dill schnapps, that Hahne gave me after I was so complementary when she served it with salmon the other week. It is a Scandinavian thing, and very good too. After dinner I listen to the first couple of chapters of CJ Sansom's Dominion, a counter factual history of WWIi, in which Lord Halifax, not Winston Churchill, becomes prime minister and signs a peace treaty with Hitler after the fall of France. It is my introductory free book from Audible. Com, I already have Hilary Mantel's "Wolf Hall and bring up the bodies", from them and will probably join their book club when I cancel the Guardian subscription. Tomorrow morning I have to collect Clement and Alice for six in order to ferry them to Manchester Airport, so I set my alarm for four thirty and turn the lights off at nine.