There was one place that I hoped it would land during the game - on the away team's bench, where there appears to be no ground control. I would have been happy to write the headline in my match report: Bawling Ass Crushed by Falling Trash.
The team is often a reflection of the coach. One of his players trips an opponent up just before half-time. Not in the course of play, I should add. The ball has just gone out for a throw-in, and without any apparent provocation, the away team's number 7 sticks out his leg as the home team's number 10 trots past him. About five yards from where I'm standing. The number 10 and I both look at each other, as if to say, "WTF?" There was no pretence, no cover-up. Just plain stupidity, for all to view.
