Years and years ago (early 70s I guess) my auld lad won a competition on The Irish Times crossword. A trip to Spain for one. He went to the bullfighting (might have been part of the prize). Left halfway in. Said he was never as disgusted by anything as much in his life up to that point.
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A ‘trip for one’ prize for a crossword is fair stingy even allowing for it being the 70s.
I’d say it’s just what he told the family.
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I must get the actual confirmation of what happened. Always seemed a strange one. It was before he’d met the mother anyway.
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He came in like a wrecking ball
He never played the ball at all
All I wanted was to play football
All he wanted was to break me
Barely even got a decent contact on either. No value got there.
A twofor
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He might have got up, but i guarantee you he was poleaxed 2 minutes later, the internal injuries must have been savage
Who’s the ref? Name on the tip of my tongue
Paul Durkin/Durcin.
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I knew it was Paul alright.
I remember that . Pure cowardly ,thatcher lined him up.
No more tbf
That hit one minute in was a fucking beauty
https://twitter.com/stusfootyflash/status/1723958928491602001?s=46&t=YOfhVM10W0bcyIiYSLI3Wg
Jesus, the one on Scholes 
In fairness to him no rolling around and got up.
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Do you think they got the message at half time?