World Cup 1990

Football Goal


We’re not generally very football-focused in our house, but I have caught a few of the teenagers taking an interest of late and, of course, on Saturday.

I remember the last time England was in a semi-final of the World Cup. I had just left journalism school and was working at Wimbledon at the time, driving tennis players around. Not because I liked tennis particularly, but I was interested to see it from behind the scenes. On the night of the semi-finals nothing moved and we had to wait to be dropped home until after the match had ended.

1990 was a big year for me. It’s hard to believe it was 28 years ago. It seems like yesterday. Maybe I am getting to that stage in life where the 28, 29 and 30 years ago becomes more vivid than what happened yesterday. I certainly have trouble remembering last week. Maybe it’s the weather. One of the good things about the menopause is that it prepares you for the kind of weather we’ve been having of late.

On Saturday, pre-match, only son and I went swimming. It was deliciously cool and we did multiple underwater breadths and handstands and cartwheels. Only son is very excited because he can now do one breadth under water. He is also growing hairs on his legs, though I can’t actually see them. He thinks they are there and that’s enough for me. He is very concerned about his body. If he gets one scratch he comes and shows me so I can check whether it is potentially fatal or at the very least requires a plaster.

The top two teens were on a sleepover on Saturday night. The same sleepover, which was a first. Daughter one left earlier to go to Pride, allegedly telling daughter two that she could wear any of her clothes. I dropped daughter two later in what looked like a black skirt with a tropical shirt on top. “She’s wearing my prom dress!” exclaimed daughter one within around five seconds of clocking her sister. Oh dear.

Only son and I drove home singing the Eurovision 2018 tape. Only son impressively sang the entire Serbian entry in fluent Serbian.

*Mum on the run is Mandy Garner, editor of

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