Why Have Opinions Changed These Past 60 plus Years

Just turned 74. First game when I was 12, but spent my formative years glued to the kitchen loudspeaker every Saturday teatime with the rest of the family to catch the day's results, solemnly and meticulously read by the BBC presenter beginning with Football League Division 1. By the time he reached Football League Division 2 - and later Division 3 - beads of sweat were dripping off the end of my nose, the whistling kettle was falling on deaf ears and you could cut the tension with a breadknife as he closed in on the one result that really mattered. If we won, the kitchen would erupt in glee, the budgie would bounce on its perch, dad would thump the table, sending granulated sugar high and wide, and speculation would abound as to who scored the goal(s). A draw would be met by sulky comments like "a useful point", "always been our bogie team" and "at least City lost". Defeat would get dad staring out the window, hands in pockets muttering "someone switch that bloody kettle off". Not surprisingly, nobody bothered rushing for the Green 'Un when it fluttered down onto the carpet under the letterbox.