EIGHTEEN | PENNY LANE

The stadium in Beerbridge had been built on an old apple orchard, which explained why their team, Beerbridge Town F.C., was nicknamed the Apples. However, I didn’t think it explained why half the stadium was filled with middle aged men wearing cartoon apples with gaudy, beaming faces on their heads.

I’d played a lot of sports in my time, and football had been one that I’d enjoyed. I’d never understood the appeal of watching it, though. I wanted to be an active participant, rather than dressing myself up like an idiot and shouting from the sidelines. I’d been to a few university home games to watch Harper (he’d played for the Seconds), but that was more to be a supportive girlfriend than out of any real interest in watching the sport itself.

Unfortunately for us, we needed to fit in with the heaving crowd. And that meant buying apple heads of our own.

“I feel ridiculous,” Me