My life as a child flare mule

ONE youth’s account of the novelty explosives trade that is ruining football…

Drizzle fills the Midland skies as fans shuffle through turnstiles, like penguins, but penguins who like football.

I shiver amongst them in dread fear of the task that awaits me. I’m 11 years-old and have light pyrotechnics hidden about my person with a street value of twelve pounds and seventy pence. How did it come to this?

Like most child flare smugglers I started young. My family were poor, we needed money to put the dog through kennel college.

So I dabbled with low risk jobs – sneaking clackers into chess tournaments and fun snappers into dressage events. I almost got caught outside a velodrome once with a cagoule full of tiger balloons, but I was young and I didn’t care.

Now here I am outside Villa Park, packing more heat than the Red Arrows and I haven’t taken my options at school yet.

The operator looks up from the child ticket I hand him. He gazes at the base of my unfashionable bell bottom trousers under which I secretly house the flares…..it’s touch and go for a moment…but I’m in!

I then dart through the rows of seats  searching for my buyer… an evil man who I know only as Tony Flare. He takes the product grinning and pays me in sharpened fifty pence pieces.

In my short time I’ve seen flares do terrible things to men, from causing mild distraction to creating a lingering smokey nuisance… but that’s not my problem.

My problem is what the future holds for me. Vuvuzela running in Rio? Or worse, Flare Island Prison? Of course I’ll go where the money is, which will probably mean sneaking a rocket launcher in any  stadia where Luis Suarez is playing.

 

Mandela understandably exhausted

NELSON Mandela has passed away after wearing himself out by changing the world. 

Speaking months before his death, Mandela said: “I’m not normally one to complain, but I am absolutely knackered.

“Playing a major role in the overthrow of an oppressive racist political system, then running the country that emerges from its ashes while also being a key figure in global diplomacy, it really takes it out of you.

“Especially after you’re been in prison for decades, where the food and accommodation are not conducive to health and vitality.

“I have done quite a lot of things and now I am really very tired. I know Obama wants to see me but I really need to lie down on a bed.”

Hertfordshire-based sales manager Stephen Malley said: “He’s tired? I’ve got a working brunch, a presentation about regional sales figures then I have to pick the kids up from ice skating.”