(He'll never play fer city)

Your Harry’s comin’ on leaps. (He’ll never play fer City.)

In’t he? (Yeah yeah, we all know he’s no ‘Mikey’)

Shame 'e ain't going to the tournament. (O'course he ain't, weren’t picked, two left feet!)

N'er mind, footy ain't everythin’. (At least my family has a life outside the effin’ FA, unlike you lot o' social parasites)

You're better off, my Mikey lives an’ breathes the bloody game. Sometimes it feels like we never gerra break. (Ya kids'll get nowhere if you don’t put the effort in, love. Spend too many hours in the pub, that’s your trouble. I’m a mother, not an old soak and THAT’s why my Mikey is in the squad.)"

Well, his hard works payin’ off, he’s got a crackin’ left foot. (But don’t kid yerself, me duck. He’ll never play fer City.)

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