A weird thing happened to me today.
As you may know, the manner by which Leicester City became the love of my life was somewhat unusual compared to the usual routes people follow to become a supporter of their team.
One of the reasons I chose them was a slightly distant family link. My paternal grandmother was from the area and my father's cousin lived there until her death a year or so ago.
When I was at the hospital today visiting my dad, his sister and her husband were there too.
And yes you've guessed it - I managed to turn the conversation to football.
We talked about my cousin being a Stoke and Liverpool fan. He and my uncle went to the Britannia on Christmas Day to see Stoke play the ManUre (having queued for about 4 hours for tickets!).
When I mentioned that I support Leicester City, my aunt told a story about how Gary Lineker used to live next to my dad's cousin as a boy. He apparently regularly kicked his ball into their garden and on occasions her husband kept it.
Sadly none of these balls has yet made an appearance in the collection of family heirlooms but you never know do you?
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