Football has turned into a machine dream for most of us. It is a game now played at its most domineering level by impossibly large, improbably rich young men on Sunday afternoons. There may be a chill in the air of a domed stadium, but it derives from the air conditioning and it does not carry the scent of burning leaves. The grass may be greener indoors, but for that we have to thank some faceless chemical conglomerate, not Pops the groundkeeper. And television somehow seems to dehumanize the skills of the players; it turns them into the A-Team in helmets...
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