But I imagine it’s especially hilarious when it’s the awkward 15-year-old work experience kid that has been tottering around the place for the last week toppling off his dad’s bike because he forgot that you have to pedal whilst turning to stare, open-mouthed and awestruck, trying to get a glimpse of who was on the coach to play Bury in a meaningless pre-season friendly that night. I mean, to be fair to them, seeing someone go arse over tit is always great. Oh, and the whole of the Everton first-team squad had their faces pressed against the coach window in absolute hysterics. The only friendly face around had collapsed onto all fours hyperventilating with laughter. I was sprawled flat on my front, a mouth full of gravel, blood pissing out my knee, still half straddling my dad’s slightly-too-big bike, plastered arm aloft to avoid further damage. The sun is beaming down, the musical genius that is ‘Boom Boom Pow’ is blasting from the radio and the lads have plans to go and see Bruno, Sacha Baron Cohen’s long-awaited follow up to Borat, at the pictures at the weekend.
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