The view from Spain

Spring chickens

November 12, 2012
By Phil Ball
I must have been about ten when it happened. My mum used to let me go to the other side of town on Saturday mornings to play football on a public recreation ground, with about 12 other school-friends. One morning, when we were playing with uneven numbers (always a problem) a skinny kid from a neighbourhood we didn't know walked past and asked if he could play. He looked about our age, but slightly undernourished and deathly pale. Reluctantly, we said yes, because of the uneven numbers. I wish we'd ...

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