I played a lot of football growing up and Dad was always very supportive. He worked crazy hours but would somehow manage to frequently have a kick about with me in the garden. Dad was even our primary school football coach, he would lead our training sessions after school and organise matches against other schools. My love for football was endless but my ability to score goals was almost non-existent. 

One Sunday when playing for the mighty Briston Wanderers, we were away at RAF Mildenhall and Dad had been asked to be the linesman. Again, although he worked very hard he almost never missed one of my games and he was often asked to either referee or run the line. On this particular day I managed to score, I'm not sure if it was from a corner or a free kick but I know it wouldn't have been a pretty goal. As I turned to celebrate this rare achievement I could see Dad jumping up and down on the side line in pure joy. He came running onto the pitch, lifted me up in the air and gave me the biggest hug. Dad wasn't allowed to continue being a linesman that game as the ref thought that he could no longer be unbiased, it was completely worth it for a memory I still cherish dearly!