Friday, October 23, 2009
Exclusive! The FA's Fit & Proper Test Revealed
FA - Good morning Sheikh Ya Money Bin Drinkin. Obviously now you wish to take over this football club we will need to ask you a few questions. We’re sure you’ll understand.
Money man – no problem
FA – that’s fine. The first question Sheikh is how much money do you have?
Money man – a lot.
FA – I’m sorry, we really need far more detail than that. You must realize Sheikh that we have a very inquisitive press in our country and we owe it to our fans to make sure you are indeed the man for this club.
Money man – of course, I understand
FA – so how much money do you have sir?
Money man – a very lot
FA – great that’s wonderful. OK, second question. What do you do exactly?
Money man – I have many businesses
FA – we’re sure you do but can you be more precise?
Money man – I’m very busy with
FA – marvelous. This really is most splendid, you tick all the right boxes. Just one last question before we’re finished. Are you or have you ever been involved in any illegal activities? Drugs? People smuggling? Murder? That sort of thing?
Money man – no, never
FA – I’m sorry, we’re going to have to ask you to prove you haven’t.
Money man – I promise
FA – that would do nicely. Well, everything is in order, congratulations Sheikh Ya Money Bin Drinkin you now own your very own English football club.
Money man – no problem
FA – that’s fine. The first question Sheikh is how much money do you have?
Money man – a lot.
FA – I’m sorry, we really need far more detail than that. You must realize Sheikh that we have a very inquisitive press in our country and we owe it to our fans to make sure you are indeed the man for this club.
Money man – of course, I understand
FA – so how much money do you have sir?
Money man – a very lot
FA – great that’s wonderful. OK, second question. What do you do exactly?
Money man – I have many businesses
FA – we’re sure you do but can you be more precise?
Money man – I’m very busy with
FA – marvelous. This really is most splendid, you tick all the right boxes. Just one last question before we’re finished. Are you or have you ever been involved in any illegal activities? Drugs? People smuggling? Murder? That sort of thing?
Money man – no, never
FA – I’m sorry, we’re going to have to ask you to prove you haven’t.
Money man – I promise
FA – that would do nicely. Well, everything is in order, congratulations Sheikh Ya Money Bin Drinkin you now own your very own English football club.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Predict a cliche
These are Arsenal's top scorers as per the official website
5 - Fabregas, Vermaelen, van Persie, Arshavin,
3 - Diaby, Eduardo, Gallas,
Serious question now. How long will it be before some smart prick comes along and says Arsenal lack an out and out goalscorer a la Henry?
And think back to the days when Henry was our out and out goalscorer. And how many times did you hear people say then we relied on just one man too much?
5 - Fabregas, Vermaelen, van Persie, Arshavin,
3 - Diaby, Eduardo, Gallas,
Serious question now. How long will it be before some smart prick comes along and says Arsenal lack an out and out goalscorer a la Henry?
And think back to the days when Henry was our out and out goalscorer. And how many times did you hear people say then we relied on just one man too much?
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Just a rubber ball
Gotta say I'm still pissing myself at the manner of Liverpool's defeat against Sunderland yesterday and have decided to compile 5 songs (twice) for Rafa to put on his i-Pod.
1 - Rubber ball
2 - Are you Lampard in disguise (sang at the offending ball)
3 - Rafa, has only got one ball
4 - You're just a sad mackem beach ball
5 - He's here, he's there, he's every fucking where, beachy ball, beachy ball
6 - Who put the ball in Reina's net? Beachy, beachy
7 - I'd bounce a million miles for one of your goals, ohh beachy
8 - We all agree, beachy is better than Torres
9 - He's got no legs but we don't care, beachy beachy ball
10 - You are my beach ball, my only beach ball, you make me happy when Rafa whines
1 - Rubber ball
2 - Are you Lampard in disguise (sang at the offending ball)
3 - Rafa, has only got one ball
4 - You're just a sad mackem beach ball
5 - He's here, he's there, he's every fucking where, beachy ball, beachy ball
6 - Who put the ball in Reina's net? Beachy, beachy
7 - I'd bounce a million miles for one of your goals, ohh beachy
8 - We all agree, beachy is better than Torres
9 - He's got no legs but we don't care, beachy beachy ball
10 - You are my beach ball, my only beach ball, you make me happy when Rafa whines
Saturday, October 17, 2009
What happened to the working class hero?
Three apparently inconnect strands. One answer. 12 months.
It's something that has been nagging me for a while but I think finally I have hit upon something that may go someway to explaining this conumdrum.
1 - Where have all the English boys gone?
2 - There's a lot of foreign names in the last edition of Kicker Special I have
3 - There's not a whole lot of talent coming through in Singapore.
Now I know why. There is no significant indigenous working class in the three countries I have mentioned. More and more people are owning their own property, this gives them access to credit and this takes away much of their desire.
What is left is a brain dead, hospice queuing middle class whose sole aim in life is to own the latest handphone or handbag. Inititive has gine out the window, desire has become a dirty word as all that counts is paying off the bills.
Football is considered too risky. Anyway who wants to kick a ball around outside where there's all them muggers, chavs and child molesters where it may rain? Better stay at home and play computer games on the Play Station that comes in at 25% APR.
It's ok, you can play football once or twice a week at a football sponsored academy or with the school but hey, just play football. Don't bother learning how to use the ball, caress the ball, control the ball or pass the ball. Better just to imitate CR7 when he scores from 40 yards.
The middle classes are a poisonous weed on society's intellectual growth. They demand immediacy or they quickly lose interest and return to their diet of celebrity shite. They are a nation of consumers, critical consumers, with little patience for innovation or creativity. The Herd is no longer a bunch of football hooligans but a place to remain anonymous, awaiting death and release from the bills acquired in their desire for living the commercials' dream.
Pat Rice, Arsenal's assistant manager or whatever, grew up kicking a ball around outside the East Stand at Highbury. He was never that talented but, read any book that touches on him, he worked his bloody nuts off and got himself a useful career in the game at a time when the alternative was probably driving a milk float.
Like picking grapes of gutting fish, football is now considered a job best filled by foreigners.
In Singapore the problem is more acute. Most of the population is Chinese. Have a look at the squads for recent youth squads, check out the line ups for most SLeague games and you won't find a single Chinese name on the team sheet.
Instead what you will get is the Chinese moaning about the lack of Singapore talent but absolutely refusing to countenance their own offspring playing the game. Better they become doctors and businessmen where the focus is on a good salary. Better spoil the brats and leave them devoid of any hunger.
The middle classes whine professionally but ask them to get creative and watch them scurry for the shadows. To be a footballer, a great footballer, you need hunger, desire. You need to focus, you need to work hard. And these are all things the middle classes resent.
Poverty makes great footballers!
It's something that has been nagging me for a while but I think finally I have hit upon something that may go someway to explaining this conumdrum.
1 - Where have all the English boys gone?
2 - There's a lot of foreign names in the last edition of Kicker Special I have
3 - There's not a whole lot of talent coming through in Singapore.
Now I know why. There is no significant indigenous working class in the three countries I have mentioned. More and more people are owning their own property, this gives them access to credit and this takes away much of their desire.
What is left is a brain dead, hospice queuing middle class whose sole aim in life is to own the latest handphone or handbag. Inititive has gine out the window, desire has become a dirty word as all that counts is paying off the bills.
Football is considered too risky. Anyway who wants to kick a ball around outside where there's all them muggers, chavs and child molesters where it may rain? Better stay at home and play computer games on the Play Station that comes in at 25% APR.
It's ok, you can play football once or twice a week at a football sponsored academy or with the school but hey, just play football. Don't bother learning how to use the ball, caress the ball, control the ball or pass the ball. Better just to imitate CR7 when he scores from 40 yards.
The middle classes are a poisonous weed on society's intellectual growth. They demand immediacy or they quickly lose interest and return to their diet of celebrity shite. They are a nation of consumers, critical consumers, with little patience for innovation or creativity. The Herd is no longer a bunch of football hooligans but a place to remain anonymous, awaiting death and release from the bills acquired in their desire for living the commercials' dream.
Pat Rice, Arsenal's assistant manager or whatever, grew up kicking a ball around outside the East Stand at Highbury. He was never that talented but, read any book that touches on him, he worked his bloody nuts off and got himself a useful career in the game at a time when the alternative was probably driving a milk float.
Like picking grapes of gutting fish, football is now considered a job best filled by foreigners.
In Singapore the problem is more acute. Most of the population is Chinese. Have a look at the squads for recent youth squads, check out the line ups for most SLeague games and you won't find a single Chinese name on the team sheet.
Instead what you will get is the Chinese moaning about the lack of Singapore talent but absolutely refusing to countenance their own offspring playing the game. Better they become doctors and businessmen where the focus is on a good salary. Better spoil the brats and leave them devoid of any hunger.
The middle classes whine professionally but ask them to get creative and watch them scurry for the shadows. To be a footballer, a great footballer, you need hunger, desire. You need to focus, you need to work hard. And these are all things the middle classes resent.
Poverty makes great footballers!
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Foreign coaches
Dunno why we bother calling it the English Premier League anymore. Indeed, most people don't, preferring instead to use the name of the sponsor. But the only thing English about the game these days is the geography.
Take these here foreign coaches. I won't include Scottich managers/coaches - without them the game, rather like the empire, would have died along time back.
But what about these here Arsene's, Rafaels, Carlo's and Avrams.
What's all that about?
Poncey foreigners coming to our country and introducing a whole heap of new ideas all, supposedly, to make the game better.
As if drinking a bottle of water while sat on the bench helps make the game better. And water from a bottle?!
It's England you foreigners, we can drink water from the tap doncha know? Why the hell fork out over a quid for water in a bottle when you can have it for free?
And it looks so ostentatious, so smug. Oh look at me, I'm a foreigner, I drink my water from a placcy bottle, not like you mongs who neck it from a tap.
And then there is the back room staff. Bertie Mee had a coach and a trainer when we won the double back in 1971. But take Liverpool for example. Their bench looks like Rafa has employed half a dozen asylum seekers. Who the hell are they and what do they do that makes it so important that a local can't do the frigging job?
OK, one guy slaps players on the back. Ususally those just substituted. Difficult job this one and one Rafa can't do 'cos he's so frigging busy trying to open a bottle of water. Or take notes?!
Another guy is employed to make sure the guy being replaced gets a jacket to wear. Cos footballers are so damned thick they can never remember where they leave their clothes so Liverpool kindly help them overcome this handicap by giving them a butler.
There's probably a massage geezer in there as well these days. Quite way any bloke would train to stroke other blokes' legs is beyond me but then I did leave England many years ago when we still drank water from the tap. What would I know about modern science and how it influences modern managers. Like Sam Allardyce.
How do all these assorted back room bods get to games? I mean there's only a limited number of seats on the bus isn't there? Maybe they jump on the train.
Yeah, them foreign coaches...what have they ever done for us?
Take these here foreign coaches. I won't include Scottich managers/coaches - without them the game, rather like the empire, would have died along time back.
But what about these here Arsene's, Rafaels, Carlo's and Avrams.
What's all that about?
Poncey foreigners coming to our country and introducing a whole heap of new ideas all, supposedly, to make the game better.
As if drinking a bottle of water while sat on the bench helps make the game better. And water from a bottle?!
It's England you foreigners, we can drink water from the tap doncha know? Why the hell fork out over a quid for water in a bottle when you can have it for free?
And it looks so ostentatious, so smug. Oh look at me, I'm a foreigner, I drink my water from a placcy bottle, not like you mongs who neck it from a tap.
And then there is the back room staff. Bertie Mee had a coach and a trainer when we won the double back in 1971. But take Liverpool for example. Their bench looks like Rafa has employed half a dozen asylum seekers. Who the hell are they and what do they do that makes it so important that a local can't do the frigging job?
OK, one guy slaps players on the back. Ususally those just substituted. Difficult job this one and one Rafa can't do 'cos he's so frigging busy trying to open a bottle of water. Or take notes?!
Another guy is employed to make sure the guy being replaced gets a jacket to wear. Cos footballers are so damned thick they can never remember where they leave their clothes so Liverpool kindly help them overcome this handicap by giving them a butler.
There's probably a massage geezer in there as well these days. Quite way any bloke would train to stroke other blokes' legs is beyond me but then I did leave England many years ago when we still drank water from the tap. What would I know about modern science and how it influences modern managers. Like Sam Allardyce.
How do all these assorted back room bods get to games? I mean there's only a limited number of seats on the bus isn't there? Maybe they jump on the train.
Yeah, them foreign coaches...what have they ever done for us?
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