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The highs and lows of walking football "D-D-Disappointing," I say as I stand shivering on a cold and windy December evening. "Someone's cocked up," says a fellow would-be footballer. I say "would-be" because tonight, despite the fact we have all arrived at the pre-ordained sporting facility in good time dressed in our best footballing clobber, there will be no football. No flashes of brilliance, no oohs and aahs at near-misses, no "well played" or "good shot". It's a subdued mood. There are a few attempts at humour, but we know the fickle finger of fate is pointing us towards going back to the car park. We realise the writing is on the wall when the caretaker of the nearby school arrives to tell us he can't open up the facilities which actually belong to said school becuase he "can't make that decision". Our two young organisers are at breaking point, their calls to people who might be able to help unanswered. ...