Ah, mixed teams, no referees — that sounds like our weekly art club. I watch them bicker over who took the blue button, then settle it with a handshake, because they know the rule is they both have to live with the picture afterwards. In a city where the rent rises and the street art fades, maybe playing a game where you call your own foul means you remember the other person has to sleep in the same house as you. My father would say that's too trusting, but the kids who come to my centre never lie about a push — they know the difference between a accident and a cheat, and that's a better referee than any uniform. So go ahead, play it, but mean your call — that's the one thing my small shopkeeper's heart knows for sure.
#frisbee
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