They say you can't change the past, and I wholeheartedly agree with that, BUT you can do things differently when a similar situation presents itself years later and do the right thing. You see it kinda puts things to bed and helps process thoughts of the past.
Let me explain... You see there's World Cup frenzy in our house atm. Lots of matches, late nights and a Son that could easily be on any football pundit panel with his encyclopaedic knowledge of world football players, where they play, how much they earn, goal stats etc.
There are many late nights, but it's only every four years, so who cares?
Now here's the rub - with said Son Jack (11) being so captivated by the football he set his eyes on owning an official World Cup Football. And with that as bait, a challenge of tying his own shoelaces to get said ball was set – and he quickly mastered the skill. As a note, in the past, he has relied heavily on us doing this for him and pushed back at every opportunity whenever it was mentioned – I mean 11 years of age – anyway - It's funny how the football sharpened his attitude and tying ability.
Anyway, laces mastered and the football was bought - £25 – and he was totally thrilled, money well spent imho.
Scroll forwards four days and the ball has a slow puncture and isn't up to being booted around at pace in the local park and in our back garden, (which incidentally has some large prickly Rose bushes) any more - he was warned many times over.
But, it got me thinking back to 1970, when a similar situation happened to me. My Grandparents were farmers and draconian in their ways. I'm sure they didn't mean to be miserable - they just were. I don't think they liked children very much and didn't really show much love if I'm being honest. However, they did occasionally give into buying small gifts for us. And one such present was a Mexico '70 World Cup Football. I can see it now - yellow with the familiar black pentagonal panels printed on it.
It wasn't expensive - a few shillings perhaps and from Woolworths - but it didn't matter as we didn't have much as children and certainly not a World Cup Football. So, imagine my disappointment when we played outside at their farm, and my elder brother on its maiden kick, booted it straight into a barbed wire fence.
A) I was distraught and B) Frightened as I thought they would be angry at the ball being punctured as well as my parents. I can't actually remember what the outcome was but I’m sure we were back at home tout suite. Put it this way, we never received any further presents from them and that bloody flat football was in our garden for months afterwards and has been in my memory ever since – for some fifty-six years.
So, wind the clock forwards, and Jack’s football is the same condition as my 1970 Winfield Special - only I can make things right and do what I believe is the right thing to do - yes, I've bought him another.
And why not? What's £25 nowadays? The price means nothing to Jack and whether children nowadays value money or possessions the same as we did all those years ago - I don't care – this kinda matters.
Children matter. Things matter. And things matter to children, things that we as adults just don't understand. I know how Jack feels about his punctured football, and I’ve put things right for him for just £25 – and righted things for me that I’ve thought about every four years when the World Cup happens.
Only this time I’ll be looking at Jacks happiness when he finds out later today that he has a second chance of playing with a brand new World Cup Football.
I can't wait to see his face...