Sanctuary wrote:
Liken it to kids marking out an area to play footy in.
Ah, I remember the long summer holidays. Jumpers for goalposts, the ball being kicked over somebodys garden fence, burying an arthritic 35yr old woman in a huge ditch we'd dug to mark out the pitch, arguments about whether the ball was over the line, playing on until the autumn equinox sun dipped behind the quartz veined stone we had as a cornerflag, being called home for tea. 
