Football or Bust?

by David G. Thorne

We are now at the half way mark in the Fifa World Cup. Hexhamite knows, because despite his detestation of the “Sport of Plebs”  it has been all but impossible to avoid the wall-to-wall media coverage given to this Festival of Poop.

I also gleaned that the bloke with a face like a potato did not live up to the expectation engendered by his colossal salary and the England manager is at risk of losing him job for failing to produce a world class team from a sows ear. Oh yes, and some hombre is receiving police protection because he did not award a hoop to “our boys” in some game or other. Apparently the hoi polloi were a tad miffed by this.

There are so many things about the Carnival of Shite that could raise my temperature, if only I cared. However, I fail to understand why the bourgeois get so excited by this interminably dull game. Why does anybody care about Dwayne Rooney’s metatarsal or that Frank Limpdick did not score or that Tiddler Taylor is servicing Jimbo Jockstrap’s NAG? (is that the expression they use?) Because they have no lives? The whole thing is simply a bloated soap opera in which the principles are paid the equivalent of a third world country’s GDP to under perform.

But they are “our boys” I’m told. Our finest young men who represent national pride. The best of a generation blah blah. Rubbish! From where I am standing they look like a bunch of iritating millionaire wide boys who spend ninety minutes a week hoofing an inflated bladder around a field. 

No, what has really boiled my urine has been the reaction of certain fans to England’s heave-ho from the Jamboree of Feculence. The ones who paid five thousand notes to travel to  South Africa and are now bleating that the England manager (the one who looks like Garey Busey in The Buddy Holly Story) should reimburse them because his team failed to reach the final. England’s ejection means they have had to cut short their drunken jaunt and come home early!

Quite apart from the staggering delusion these people are under (did anyone REALLY believe that our third rate squad of tossers were going to go all the way?), are these peasants really suggesting that there is now no reason to see out their holiday because “our boys” are no longer in the competition?

South Africa, one of the most staggeringly beautiful countries in the world? Africa’s cradle of culture? A land so vast you could spend a thousand lifetimes there and never behold  all its wonder. But it’s not worth seeing because our contingent of deadbeats are no longer kicking a leather blister around the park? 

Are they for real? Would they cut short a holiday to New York, because the Empire State Building is no longer the tallest in the world?  Probably. This sums up the mentality of the commonality. Nothing matters but football. Arseholes.

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