2 hours ago · Life · 0 comments

Several years ago I came to the realisation that I really don’t enjoy watching football in pubs. There might be a good atmosphere, but there is every chance there won’t be…especially if the game isn’t going the right way. I’m not a huge fan of football commentary but I would still prefer to hear the analysis of professionals rather the addled and misinformed musings of a pub bore behind me. I’d prefer not to crane my neck trying not to miss a key moment. I’d rather not miss swathes of the game entirely because I’m at the bar or trying to get in the loos. I’m just not sure that watching sport in a pub, as popular as it is, actually works. And yet…the other day I found myself needing to get myself some tea, I fancied a drink after a day in a warm office followed by a hotter commute, and realised there was a World Cup game on I would quite like to watch. So, I headed to the local Spoons as it ticked all the relevant boxes. I remember a time when Wetherspoons didn’t have TVs, prided…

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