Honey, they shrunk the teams

TWICE IN recent weeks I have found myself recalling the ancient art of Subbuteo.

The first occasion was at Giants Stadium in New Jersey where the dizzying altitude of the press box served to miniaturise the game between the Republic of Ireland and Ecuador, with the sound-proofing effect of glass only adding to the slightly surreal sensation of watching a live match unfold in the comfort of your own living room.

All that was missing to complete a familiar scene from childhood was the sound of the Ma calling that my dinner was poured out, though at least Steve Staunton’s tiny men were never in danger of being stood on if I was suddenly required to leave the scene.