Football is a game

that has somehow been turned into a multi-million dollar industry. The players are bought and sold as if they are slaves  in a Roman market place. Perhaps they are slaves of a sort  but they also get paid obscene amounts of money. 
They also get cared for in ways that most people can only dream of. Today's front page is screaming because some of these pampered children have allegedly broken the rules about training in isolation  - while being accommodated at a rather smart hotel in a  tourist area some distance and to the north of the city. Poor little darlings.
No, I have no sympathy at all.
I am much more concerned by the lack of financial and other support for others we actually need. I am concerned for the research workers in the laboratories, the staff in hospitals, the teachers dealing with the children of these workers and more.
Yesterday I had a call from one of the local schools. I am the person of last resort for the child in question. His father was in the laboratory and his mother was in an operating theatre. Neither could be disturbed. His grandparents are living on the family farm at present. I was the closest. No, he wasn't hurt but he had, very unusually for him, had a "complete melt down". They couldn't work out what was wrong or even what had happened. He wouldn't tell them. Would I please come and see if I could do anything?
I didn't think it was likely but I went anyway...to be greeted by the sight of one small boy curled up in a tight ball with his hands over his ears. The adults disappeared and left me to it. 
I had really thought I was going to get absolutely nowhere but, as soon as everyone else had gone he unwound himself and rushed over to me.
    "Cat, my daddy isn't killing people!"
    "Of course not! Whatever gave you that idea? Do you want a cuddle while you tell me about it?" The last question was superfluous as he had already pushed me into a chair and was climbing on to me - forget "social distancing" right then. He needed a hug.
It all came tumbling out in a confused sort of way but I finally sorted it out.  One of the older children, knowing what this child's father is really doing, had started to tease him that his father was killing people in the laboratory -  in order to use them for experimental purposes. He thought it was funny and that the more distressed the child became the funnier it was, especially when some of his friends joined in. It left the younger boy so distressed he couldn't cope with the situation.
   "What's more important," we asked the children, "Being able to kick a football or saving someone's life?"
I left them discussing this with their teachers. It would be so good if saving lives really was the priority.