I’m peering through the gloom of the open window on the ground floor into the lounge area of the bungalow. There is an old woman sitting in the corner of the room looking scared. A younger man, her son of 45 years is sitting opposite, with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and his other hand on a large axe which is resting on his lap. The TV is flickering in the corner of the room but no one is looking at it. The faces say a stalemate has descended upon the room. Everyone has played their cards and the next move is over to us.
We are playing a football match and our goal is huge, in fact twice the size of the opponent we are playing. We pull our resources together and work as a team as much as we can, but it’s difficult to score in their tiny goal. When we do score, the rule book is pulled out and sifted through by the opposition with their free lawyers, and something is found to discount the goal. Not sure many would like to take part in a game like this, but it’s how the Police play the game against our long term opponent, the criminal.