A pint of pride please!

By Bad Dad on Aug 4, 08 01:14 PM

NEARLY 15 years ago I cradled my newborn son in my arms, the proudest bloke on this earth.

On Friday I watched a snapshot of the Edgbaston lunch session between England and S Africa from the pub near the office...a very proud man once more.

My little baby boy who I remember like yesterday taking his first steps and uttering his first word (graga for grandad), was there watching Flintoff and Co on his own.

No big deal you might say, but I've always taught him and his brother to enjoy a drink sensibly (a sip of wine at lunch. stubby beer now and again) to take the taboo out of alcohol.

But with the sun shining and Paul Collingwood at the crease, I knew it could prove a heady mixture.

Thanks to a gang of generous Baggies and Bluenoses who chanted to Nick and his pal "get 'em in the round", they were led astray.

When he got home about 9ish full of stories of streakers, beer 'snakes' (huge columns of empty plastic pint holders) and over-zealous stewards, he didn't look any the worse for wear.

"We had a couple of pints but didn't fancy being in a huge crowd of people not knowing where we were going and trying to get home," he explained.

What a good lad...or perhaps he's turning into a man.