Write a poem or journal entry about numbers that have special meaning to you.


My special number is 2. When I was a child, I would get up early every Saturday morning to go to football training. To be honest with you, I hated the training. I hated the cold, I hated the rain, I hated the mud, and I was never very good at football. 

But I will always remember feeling extremely proud playing a game in summertime. The game was in Slough, and I was playing for a team called Old Windsor Tigers. I wore the number 2 shirt, and had an incredible game, playing centre half. That was the only Man of the Match award I ever won. I'm still terrible at football, but I love the sport as a spectator, and that memory will always be special to me.