A SERIOUS conversation in a pub between two dads recently underlines the agonisingly difficult decisions us men have to make.

The first dad was explaining that he was facing a real dilemma: his wife had indicated that she was interested in having sex that night but the opportunity clashed with a big football match on telly.

"It's a tough call," he said. "If I watch the match first, it'll be late and she'll be too tired to make love. What do you think I should do?"

"Easy," said the second dad. "If there are plenty of goals, watch the match. If it's a 0-0 draw, go for the sex."

It's not something I agree with of course. For me, it would always come down to whether Arsenal were playing. Nevertheless, it demonstrates the important role football plays in lots of relationships.

Nick, one of the shock of new dads in the office (a "shock" is the latest suggestion in our search for a suitable collective noun) is a case in point.

For his sins, he's a mad Hartlepool United fan. "Pools" - his first love - are never far from his thoughts.

A few weeks ago, he was in hospital for the birth of his first child, understandably feeling as nervous as the final taker in a penalty shoot-out. The apprehension wasn't helped when the midwife introduced herself by explaining that she was newly-qualified.

"This is my first day," she said, "but don't worry..."

The nerves began to jangle ever more vigorously when the midwife went on to announce after an examination that she thought the baby was "backside first", a diagnosis confirmed by a second and then third opinion.

There was nothing else for it - an emergency caesarean - and the befuddled and heavily-perspiring dad-to-be was left asking "What do I need these for?" as he was swiftly handed a hat and gown for theatre.

He did as he was told and changed into fancy dress as wife Helen, high on gas and air, told the gathering that he looked "like an extra from Holby City".

He then waited outside - taking deep breaths, having been denied any gas and air - while Helen was prepared for surgery.

Minutes later, a familiar face appeared in hat and gown, saying: "Now then, Nick. All right son?" He turned out to be Geoff, a fellow Hartlepool fan, who was working as an assistant in the operating theatre.

"Time to go in," said Geoff, and Nick was positioned "at the top end" to hold Helen's hand.

"Reckon we'll make the play-offs then?" Geoff asked Nick as the operation ensued.

"Dunno, not sure after the way we played against Doncaster. It was a load of rubbish," replied Nick, squeezing Helen's hand at the memory of the disappointing performance.

"I couldn't get there cos I was working in here," muttered Geoff. "Just as well by the sounds of it."

"Bet it goes down to the last game of the season at Bournemouth," Nick went on.

It was at that moment that Helen was heard to cry: "Can we not do anything without you talking about Pools?" In the circumstances, she possibly had a fair point.

Two minutes later, at 12.54pm and weighing in at 6lbs 10ozs, Thomas Jacob Loughlin was nestling in his dad's arms for the first time.

"A little Hartlepool striker of the future," ventured Geoff, looking on from the sidelines.

And guess what? Thomas has already got his very first blue and white striped footy shirt.

THE THINGS THEY SAY

AT a meeting of Sunderland Ladies Probus Club, Emmy Mackay remembered the time daughter Pauline, aged four, was desperate for a kitten and insisted that it should be either a black one or a white one.

Her auntie had heard about a litter of kittens being born at a local farmhouse so she decided to go and order one for Pauline.

Once the kitten was ready to leave its mother, Pauline was taken by car to pick up her new pet and her auntie explained that there were no white ones or black ones, only tortoiseshell ones.

Pauline immediately started to sob in the back of the car.

"Don't cry," said her mum. "You'll love it just as much as a black one or a white one."

In between sobs, Pauline blurted out: "Well, I wanted a pussy with a furry back not a pussy with a hard back."

EMMY also recalled living in the country and sorting out the apples which had fallen in the garden.

Every time she came to a bruised apple, she said: "That one's no good - it's for the dustbin."

A few days later, daughter Pauline asked her mum what the black mark on her leg was and was told it was a bruise.

Half an hour later, Pauline was found crying her heart out and saying: "You won't throw me in the dustbin, will you?"

EMMY's granddaughter Donna, who now has a family of her own, never used to say "Please don't switch the light off" when she was a little girl.

She used to say "Please don't switch the dark on."

Published: 02/06/2005