I was eighteen years old and sat at a table at a football club called Wolves football club with my dad who was a keen football fan.
A young man smilled at me from another table, blonde good looking, they are footballers that is Bobbie Moore said my dad. Bobbie was beaming at me a lovely smile, then a couple of the other lads with him said he fancied me.
I was shy and foolishly still in love with a young man i had just split up from, or i would not have been out with my dad and probably never met a footballer. Bobbie was keen to get to know me but my foolish heart was with some one who was not hansom like Bobbie, he would never be famous like Bobbie, or as charming.
My dad made a point of telling everybody how daft i was to miss the chance to go out with Bobbie Moore one of the best players england ever had for some bum loser who messed me about, and i think he was annoyed with me, who could blame him.