From Daughter — Dad, It's My Turn to Pick

Father's Day: Sunday 15 June 2026. Order deadline: Tuesday 10 June.

He picked your first match. You were probably too young to remember it properly — but he remembers. He remembers the drive there, the car park, the walk up to the ground, the moment you saw the pitch for the first time and your eyes went wide. He remembers what you said. He's told the story a hundred times.

He picked your first shirt. Too big. Sleeves past your wrists. His team's colours. You wore it to bed for a week.

He picked the pub for every tournament. The same one. The same seat. The same pint. The same superstition about not changing anything if they're winning. He picked the songs you sang in the car on the way there and the silence on the way back when they lost.

He picked all of it. Every match. Every shirt. Every prediction shouted at the television. Every "we'll get them next time" when you both knew they wouldn't.

This Father's Day — two days before England play Croatia in the World Cup — it's your turn to pick.

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Your Prediction, His Shirt

Here's what you do. You pick the score. Not him. You.

He's been telling you his prediction since the draw was made. You've heard it. You've nodded. You've let him have his moment. But you have your own prediction — the one you've been thinking about since you saw the group, since you watched the friendlies, since you formed your own opinion about Tuchel's midfield selection.

Put YOUR prediction on HIS shirt. His name on the back. Your call on the front.

When he opens it on Sunday morning, he'll see the score and he'll say one of two things:

1. "That's exactly what I said!" (It won't be. But let him have it.)
2. "No chance. It'll be 2-1." And then you'll both have a prediction. And the game becomes a competition between you.

Either way — it starts a conversation. A real one. About football.