Wednesday, November 9, 2011
England - Spain? No Gracias.
I do support England, but....I can’t ever get as excited about international football as I can when my own club is involved in a game. Why should this be? I can remember as a kid being glued to every England game, and thinking of all the players as heroes, even if they didn’t play for The Arsenal. That “golden age” where footballers were hard as nails but fair, played honestly, didn’t dive, gave as good as they got and enjoyed a pint and a fag. It was impossible to dislike any of them. Unless they were Tottenham. Or Portuguese.
Today’s England stars, where do I start? At the back. It’s tough to suddenly wish good things on such a huge mega twat as Ashley Cole. Then there’s one of the most obnoxious human beings you could meet, the racist idiot that is John Terry. In midfield you have the thick as pigshit Frank Lampard.....can you see a trend developing here, around one club in particular? Then there is the gobshite Rooney and his hair plugs and preference for the older whore. All players that week in and week out you are desperate to see make terrible bungling mistakes, miss open goals, score own goals, or in the case of John Terry, pick up gangrene off a rusty stud and suffer a long slow painful death whilst trying to make up with Wayne Bridge, who, by a quirk of fate, is the only man in the world with an antidote. You get the picture I’m sure. I can’t suddenly turn off the hate and want them to do well. I want England to win, but, it would be soooo funny to see Cashley Hole trip over his own feet and crack his head on the post whilst diverting a wayward shot into his own goal. That would be hilarious! I would even say even better than seeing an England goal. Sorry.
But this weekend is of course England against Spain. Now in my house I’m outnumbered. So that means I’ll have to go all patriotic and be fully behind England. Cashley. Terry. Lamps. The Roon. Of course there is a very very soft spot for Spain. My home, my missus and kids are Spanish, the place has given me so much, I’m very attached.....but, oh no, who are those two unieyebrowed eyestooclosetogether midgets in midfield? The mouthy, too full of himself Xavi, and some bloke that used to seem like a nice lad when he spoke English, but has recently become all cocky, gobby and big headed when speaking Spanish. Then there is Busquets, the lanky, cheating, can’t keep his balance within a yard of a defender, master of deception. Oh dear.
The international kicks off at 6.15 p.m. (CET) on Saturday, if seeing overpaid, pampered, legs-waxed, tattooed primadonnas dive and gesture their way through a meaningless friendly is your thing. There are alternatives. In England it’s the sadly devalued but extremely good FA Cup first round. In Spain there are a round of Segunda games.
Me? Oh feck it….I think I’m going to pass on the Wembley kickabout on the telly. I’ll be at the Rico Perez watching Real Murcia try to extend their unbeaten run in a real game.....and will only have to deal with one hate figure (the ref) instead of 8 or 10.
I'll get my coat!
Posted by Guiri at 9:56 PM