Sunday league was played between pints and net- less posts by monosyllabic binsmen managed by the Local’s former-youth-prospect barman. When metatarsals bowed bombing water-clogged Mire Ultramax takedowns, leaving cross-bars quivering and strikers wilted in the marsh. Studs akin to croc teeth, ripping through pitches and shin pads. Lads cupping their palms—blackened fingernails— scooping mats of […]