The Wrong Referee

I was first out of school again but the most obvious thing about me was a black eye. OK, so it's red, and just the kind of red you get if you get accidentally elbowed in the eye socket by Oakley yesterday but keep fiddling with it all today. So I said I got hit in the eye again but I couldn't remember who the assailant was.
I took Ben home and the conversation was all about football jokes. I said Yo-yo Toure keeps bouncing back and he told all sorts of jokes but I didn't understand any because I don't do football.
Robert phoned and we met him in the park and he brought a Johnny this time and we played mega-football with Owen and Brandon and because of my innate abilities, I played Referee so I could shout non-stop and not get hurt. We had a half-time scoff which was mostly Jaffa cakes and more footy and Castle Defend and Attack which was very loud indeed. A load of Tweenagers also became loud at their own Attack-Chase game and the park reverberated to our hootling and screaming.

We invented Bridge-Slide in which we take turns to be the bridge and the rest slide down beneath and I got binged in the willocks a few times because I'm shorter and one of us had a finger-sized hole in the trousers and it was all naughty and funny but I think we'll all still be able to have children one day. But then Robert got a woodchip in the eye and Owen kicked down the barricades for no reason and we all decided to leave and Ben called him Shiva, Destroyer of Worlds which is quite inventive.
BensMum was there even before we got home so we couldn't play Lego, might do that next time. Or not.