'On the Way to the Match' by Marina Jeavons

We’re on our way among the throng.
The hustle and bustle and hubbub of voices surround us. We hear the would be experts extolling their opinions and the would be football managers putting their team to rights. “What the hell was he thinking taking off the centre forward, we need somebody up front!” “I wish he would buy a good striker”. “Our problem is shooting … we’ve got nobody who can find the back of the net.”
Everyone is wearing jeans. Jeans of every shade from darkest navy to palest blue. Tight fit jeans, baggy jeans, torn jeans and jeweled and sequined jeans. All are here on display.
But the bums in the jeans are varied just as much.
In front of me is a wobbly one, clad in pale tatty jeans. The jeans are low slung and the crutch reaches nearly to its owner’s knees. The bottoms of the jeans are dragging in the dust, torn and frayed. Their owner walks with a rolling gait, hands in pockets.
Now along comes a neat and tidy one clad in dark blue, tight fitting stretch jeans. Their owner strides purposefully along and soon overtakes everyone.
Ah! Here comes a bricklayer. Low slung pale jeans with a broad leather belt not doing it’s job. Their owner is loud and slobbers as he puffs on his cigarette.
Now we have the jeweled-jeaned bums, two together. Oh my God! One has the bottoms of their jeans tucked into knee-high shiny boots, while the other displays the top of a lacy thong.
But enough!
We are nearing the turnstiles and the tempting aromas of the food stalls beckon. Let’s forget about backsides and think about the match!