End of Yorkshire cricket

Dear Mr. Mayhew,

Many years ago, we played football, on the cobbled streets of our town, or in the school playground. We ‘Bog-Arab Paddies’ on one side, and the ‘Parkies’ on the other.  They knew who they were.  They knew where they came from.  No-body ever went home blubbering to mum. We took the piss out of each other because it was funny.  Everybody did it. If you didn’t like what someone said, you could always deck them or tell them to get lost. Calling someone a Parky these days seems very petty. Going ‘Parky-bashing,’ is a thing of the past.

The Parkies were fine.  I got along better with many of them than many ignorant white people I lived with. A lot of them went on to out-compete some of my class-mates, ending up with jobs in law, accountancy, and, of course, running the council.  I’ve nothing against someone working hard!  The Poles were very hard workers.  The only ones I couldn’t really stand were the Wops.  They were hard as nails and would take your last penny out of your back pocket.

Will Parliament every pass a law making taking the mick a criminal offence?  Think of all those lovely prisons being filled up with foul-mouthed yobs who shouldn’t have been here anyway.

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