Gertsamtkunstwerk

Paedophilia in football

The advert break mentions "McDonald's - provider of players' escorts". I'm actually shocked - I would have thought that McDonalds, being a 'family' brand, would not wish to be associated with corporate prostitution.

But I'm sat at the computer, Jimmy in front of the telly. He says it's young boys.

I'm sickened. Really sickened.

Ruud says Ronaldo man of match

Step Aside, Becks

I so hate it when anyone is labelled the 'New (Insert Name)'

Ronaldo

All season we have been saying he has talent but is frustrating. Yesterday, football's newest superstar delivered.

Soul boy Ronaldo shows off talents of a young master

Oh what bliss it is to be a Manchester United fan with such talented youngsters eg Ronaldo and Fletcher at our disposal...

Don't write us off yet!

We won the cup!

I really fancy going to a Portuguese restaurant this weekend.

You'd think after all these years I would have got used to them changing ends at half time.

I reckon they should have blood replacements in football, like they do in rugby.

I go to refill my coffee cup and we get a penaty! Extra hay for Ruud van Nistelroy tonight!

I do so prefer the laidback BBC commentary to the ridiculous hyperbole of Sky. Mind you, Motty must be getting close to retirement.

Ruud's scored again.

Ooh, ooh, ooh Ole's coming on! Shame that Cristiano's come off...but he is the newest entrant to my pantheon of heroes!

So WTF has Ruud got Man of the Match?

Three - nil! Yeaaaaaaahhhhhh!

We've won the Cup!

Did I ever tell you about the time I was alone in a room with the FA Cup and the premiership trophy?

Cup Final!

Palm Blogging on the sofa 1 - 2 pm

I hate Millwall, and I don't feel the slightest guilt pang, despite my former employment with Southwark Education, Millwall FC's Partner in the Community. And their Assistant Manager, Ray Wilkins, is one of the nicest celebrities I've ever met.

I've got this really bad feeling - the pundits are saying there is no way that Millwall can win. I hate it when pundits do that.

You can't beat the way that the BBC does the build-up, despite Only Fools and Horses and Danny Baker, because they played The Only Living Boy In New Cross.

Oh fuck, if we lose, we get ridiculed by Arsenal, Chelsea and Crystal Palace fans; if we win, it's 'only' against Millwall.

This Sport Aid thing, I'd love to do it, but I'm not sure I'd be able to walk a mile, let alone run right now.

Ooh my boys are getting off the bus - Giggsy, Keano, Ole, Gury (he's from Bury), 'there's only one' Ronaldo, Fletcher...

The last time I missed a United FA Cup Final was 1977, when my sister, mother and I went to the Northern Ballet Theatre at the Royal Northern College of Music (somehow typical of my family...!). I watched 1976, 1979, 1983, 1985, 1990, 1994, 1996, 1999. Actually, thinking about it, I only half saw 1995 because I was at a Union Conference in Bournemouth, surrounded by Everton fans from Girobank. Bad day. I spent the next week in hospital.

Oh fuck, I'm running out of fags. Do I dash out and get some, or assume that Jimmy will get some from Sainsburys?

The fabled Mark Robins goal at Forest 1990 that started It all off. I was there...

1994 I was at a friend's house and we discovered a bag of weed down the sofa. I don't remember much of that match!

Eric Cantona!!!!!!!!!

Teddy Teddy Teddy Teddy Sheringham he went to Man U and won fuck all the Treble.

Cup Final Weekend

I'm playing it differently this year. I don't know who's in the team, I don't know what frocks the wives will be wearing (let's face it, I don't even know the names of most of the wives...), I haven't bought any specials or Match Weekly or Shoot or South London Press's FA Cup Final Edition (ooh, no, no). I will not begin preview until 1 pm when the BBC' TV coverage begins.

However, I am excited. I'm trying to decide whether to wear my red shirt, or my *lucky* green and yellow Newton Heath shirt. Planning food and drink for the match.

And don't forget the other Final taking place tomorrow - ACT Brumbies v Canterbury Crusaders. My mother, sister, brother and sister-in-law saw the Crusaders triumphant against the Brumbies in Canterbury. Let's hope tomorrow's final is a repeat...!

Come On You Reds!

Cup Final Omens

OMG - reading an old diary I read that every season that we have two players sent off, we win the FA Cup. Well, both Darren Fletcher and Cristiano Ronaldo (our teenagers...crikey, I'm old enough to be their mother...), got their marching orders on Saturday.

I did warn you - it's the FA Cup final on Saturday.

League football has recently been verboten in my house and on this blog. But not FA Cup football...

Moneybags Abramovich

Fascinating report - 'He won, Russia lost' - about how Roman Abramovich made his billions - through exploitation and chancing. Nice man.

I studied Soviet and East European Politics at Uni. It was slightly bizarre, not to mention a massive misjudgement, to study in 1987-8 and defer the exam to 1989. I should really have followed developments in the former Soviet Union during the 1990s. It's always fascinated me, because when I was a small child my cousin/godfather lived in Baku. But I'm realising increasingly that, however wonderful my eight years on the Council were, they did lead me to neglect so many other interests in life...

Delia roasts Ron

The Sun presumably carefully chose 'roast' for its cooking connotations, quite forgetting the other, football-related meaning.

Norwich City is the only football club where, when a player is injured, the physio comes on with the magic Victoria Sponge. Fact.

Isn't it about time Delia became Dame Delia? (Birthday honours are due in about six weeks. That's my tip).

Ranieri's career prospects

What if ...

1. Chelsea are easily knocked out of the Champions League by Arsenal and fall away in the Premiership to finish 3rd, 15 points behind winners Arsenal. Joe Cole is sold to Liverpool for a small profit. Result: Ranieri is sacked

2. Chelsea reach the semis of the Champions League and lose to Real Madrid on away goals. They finish 2nd in the Premiership, six points ahead of 3rd-placed Man Utd. Beckham tells Spanish newspapers that the only reason he would leave Madrid is to "play under a manager like Claudio Ranieri and I know Raul and Zidane feel the same". Result: Ranieri is sacked

3. Chelsea are beaten finalists in the Champions League, losing on penalties to Milan after a thrilling 5-5 draw. In an all-night poker game with Wenger and Ferguson, Ranieri wins Henry and van Nistelrooy with a bluff and later announces that he has invented a type of sticky tape that finds its own end for you when you whistle. Result: Ranieri is sacked

4. Chelsea win the Champions League, beating Milan in the final. Ranieri persuades Florentino P�rez to swap Roberto Carlos and Ronaldo for Hasselbaink and announces that he has discovered a way to make Britain energy self-sufficient by harnessing the power of childhood dreams. Result: Ranieri is sacked

5. Chelsea overhaul Arsenal to take the title and clinch the Champions League with a 7-0 victory over Milan. Ranieri buys Francesco Totti for �7.50 on eBay, persuades Rev Ian Paisley to admit that "maybe the Pope isn't that bad after all" and forces Ant & Dec to enter a Trappist monastery. Result: Ranieri is sacked

6. Chelsea win the Champions League and the Premiership. Ranieri finds the Beagle space probe, discovers life on Mars and leads his side to victory over a Red Planet Select XI. The game is broadcast around the globe uniting mankind in a spirit of earthly brotherhood. Armies lay down their weapons, enemies embrace, poverty, hunger and inequality are abolished and the UN announces a new era of peace and harmony will be named in honour of the man who inspired it: Result: Ranieri is sacked

On, On, On!

Arsenal 0-1 Man Utd

Up for the Cup!

Woot! Yay! Huzzah!

I have just experienced the most ghastly fifteen minutes of this year. It was those fifteen minutes leading up to the final whistle. It was worse than the World Cup Final.

It simply isn't enjoyable. It is horrible. I feel sick to my stomach. Petrified, scared. Oh my god, we're one-up against the Arse, time is running out, so near, and anything can happen. I am swearing at Motty on the Box, I ban Jimmy from talking, there are more f**ks in my speech than a good Cheshire girl should know.

Then the tradition, dig out the records, Come On You Reds, and Glory glory Man United (which I have on a 7" vinyl single purchased in 1983, but, also fortunately have on my Football Crazy compilation CD, but not on 'the best footie albums in the world...ever' or 'all new the best footie albums in the world...ever!'

Millwall, Sunderland - bring 'em on!

First time in the FA Cup Final this century, first time since I've been going out with Jimmy.

I am so Excited!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I quite like Chas & Dave's We're Off To Wembley Cos We Beat The Arsenal, first verse and chorus anyway....

Ooh, I hope the United boys do another cheesy single, to add my rather impressive collection. In 1994 we won the Double and got the number one single! I might even watch TOTP.

AndI have The Bunny Boiler and Bear on Board in the National.

End of an era

As I said last night, I refuse to fork out six quid to watch the once great Manchester United get hammered at the City of Manchester stadium.

I was there at the City ground in Nottingham West Bridgford when Mark Robins scored the all-important goal in the FA Cup Third round January 1990. That led on to winning the FA Cup that year, and the European Cup Winners Cup in 1991. A League cup victory in 1992 was scant consolation for throwing away the League Championship to Leeds in 1992, but a wonderful night at Selhurst Park when we won, and heard that Aston Villa hadn't, making the championship an almost tangible near-certainty and heralding the era of drinking champagne out of Manchester United mugs.

The Double in 1994, double-runners-up in 1995, double double in 1996, Champions in 1997. The glorious glorious treble in 1999, heralding a hat-trick of consecutive championships. We are the reigning champions. But...

That thud you hear is the sound of heads rolling.

14 years of hope and glory.

Now it's back to the Eighties.

It's been fun.

This Sporting Life

I don't know why, but it seems impossible for all matches to go the way you want. Swings and roundabouts, rough with the smooth, some you win, some you lose.

Frankly, Manchester United have been dire throughout February. Hopefully, we are now beginning a long March to glory. But forgive me if I show little faith. Nevertheless, it is nice that we beat Fulham on Saturday. And nice that we are in our first FA Cup Semi Final of the century/millennium. I have no memory of United ever losing an FA Cup Semi Final, and memories of glory days in (can I do this entirely from memory...?) 1976, 1977, 1979, 1983, 1985, 1990, 1994, 1995, 1996, and 1999. And we won seven out of ten of those finals, which is no bad thing. Say what you like, the FA Cup is past its glory days. But, hey, what memories of Cup Final weekends, culminating in watching the boys in their open top bus parade down Washway Road in Sale.

And looking at the semi final line-up, you have the two biggest clubs in the Premiership, alongside a First Division Team and a replay scheduled bringing D1 against D2. Pretty glamorous, I reckon. All that remains to be seen is how the FA fix the draw - to have the United-Arse showdown in the semis, or hope that this will be the final. Maybe there's an advantage in going for the United-Sunderland (Northern) semi, with them banking on Millwall meeting Arsenal in the London semi.

We shall see.

As for England Rugby. What a load of rubbish. Losing to Ireland. At Twickers. Terrible. And let's face it, they played badly - all those line-outs they lost. Plus, considering they had two tries disallowed by the fourth official, and another one where the Irish defender just got to the ball more quickly.

Jimmy, who spent the weekend suffering with a heavy cold, decided to watch it indoors with his father. His Irish father. His unrepentantly patriotic Irish father. Who now believes that Ireland is the best team in the world, and England only won the World Cup by mistake.

Let's just hope that we beat Wales. And France. It's one thing beating Italy and Scotland, who are competing for the wooden spoon. But France ought to be our only rivals for Northern Hemisphere superiority, and Wales appear to be rapidly improving.

*Sigh*

What have I been doing with my life?

Cocooning, I guess is the word.

Watching an awful lot of TV. Everything from the Scotland-England rugby match (yay!) to the Porto-Manchester United match (no!).

Being depressed and that, I thought it would be a really fab idea to while away my hours watching total tear-jerkers such as Otello and La Traviata. In fact, on Friday night I put on my DVD of Otello that Mummy got me for Xmas. I said to Jimmy, 'If you don't like this, say so,' and he later said that he thought he would try for twenty minutes, and ended up thoroughly enjoying the whole two and a quarter hours.

Then yesterday we watched The Sound of Music, which, unbelievably, he has never seen before. And yes, although I have seen it thirty zillion times, I cried. Oh, and on Saturday we watched Hope Springs, which was enjoyable and probably worth ££3.75 from Sky Box Office, although wouldn't have been worth £20+ in the West End.

And I am simply not discussing the fact that it appears that Manchester United appear to have thrown away all hopes of the Championship - February seems to have been the longest month to watch one's favourite football club slowly imploding.

Cutie wutie cuddly toys

Portsmouth FC are sponsored by Ty, who make Beanie Babes.

Is this the macho all-conquering hardman image that any self-reespecting Football Club wants to project?

Years ago I read Desmond Morris's The Soccer Tribe which said that no football team will ever play in pink because it makes them look a like a bunch of, well, blokes wearing pink.

Georgie Best, Superstar

For some reason, I can't post a comment to Chunnering, so I am going to post here about George Best

What is even more depressing is the knowledge that he was blessed with so many gifts - supreme skill, ravishing good looks, charm, intelligence (except for the obvious) and a succession of beautiful wives, and he's pissed it all away.

Lower Limb Inequality

Becks in new limb sensation

Fascinating...

Arse

Well, I am glad I didn't fork out six quid on the pay-per-view to watch my United lose to the Premiership's bottom club.

Nick Barlow, feel free to gloat.

Is it mere psychology?

Roman is ready to write off title says the sub-Standard. But maybe he's been reading the Alex Ferguson book of kidology.

Ronaldo moving from Real Madrid to Chelski? According to United fans, there's only one Ronaldo

Rampant champions

The better United do, the more I ignore them. Yet, they keep winning, whilst certain pretenders have experienced a few slips.

It's a matter of some sadness to me that I seem to have fallen out of love with Manchester United and we are, now, at best, Good Friends. Well into the mid-Nineties, I was pretty much obsessed, but now, yes, I like to see them play, and love them to see win, and I have a strong strength of identity with them. But their results are no longer a key determinant of my state of mind. I suspect it's because I'm growing up, but I feel I ought to go through a mourning process.

Tempus fugit

I seem to be neglecting my reputation for blogorrhoea. I would love to woo and wow with you a dazzling parade of amazing things I have done. I have to say, the past few days have been enjoyable but not necessarily exciting and wooful. Dashing around at work - my task for Friday afternoon was to do a to do list, mainly to ensure I hit the ground running when I return after New Year. I didn't get that far.

On Thursday, I was at a social event where I was the only blogger present, yet there was a semi-intelligent discussion on blogging. There were two people present who claim to know Tom Watson.

Saturday was a TV day - firstly, Manchester United beating Manchester City by a comfortable three goals to one. Classic comments from yours truly. "That Ryan Giggs, he's turned thirty now - he's past his best." Ten minutes later: "Ooh, Ryan Giggs - he just gets better and better." Ha ha!

In the evening we watched The Pianist a stunningly moving film, set in the Warsaw Ghetto in the Second World War. At two and a half hours it is not a short film, but it never seemed to drag. I will definitely say a big-up to Sky Box Office. I would be surprised if such a film would be available to hire from my local home entertainment shop.

Sunday was Sainsburys, which was extraordinary quiet and really rather unhassled. In the evening we watched the Sports Personality of the Year. There was not a single award with which I disagreed. The highlights of the evening were the awards to the rugby team, (it was wonderful to see Jonny Wilkinson's face when Martin Johnson was announced as runner-up - the look of dread on his face that yet again he is back in the spotlight - he earlier had the grace to admit that he knows he looks uncomfortable in the spotlight - I'm sure he's getting used to it and will grow into his iconic role) and the crowning of Steve Redgrave - a truly deserved award, for his longevity, and for his tremendous achievement in winning gold in five successive Olympics, especially, latterly, with considerable medical challenges. Of course, something like that is always going to favour a recent winner, but, objectively, it would be difficult to find a more worthy winner. And doesn't he always look so proud when he receives accolades!

It was also excellent seeing the awards to Michael Watson and Lance Armstrong.

But the overwhelming moment was seeing the '66 team and the '03 team pose together (and George and Ben Cohen being asked whether there was a young Cohen with a talent for cricket...!)

shome mishtake shurely

In the Champions League, Monaco have beaten Deportivo La Coruna 8-3.

I must be well out of the anorak-loop in European football, because if United had been drawn in that group, I would have pursed my lips anxiously at Deportivo and shrugged at Monaco.

Indeed, Deportivo beat my boys 2-0 less than eight months ago; okay, mainly reserves, as I blogged at the time.

But 8-3 is not the scoreline you expect to see at this level.

Glad to see Arsenal winning a rare European victory. Prolong the agony a bit more...

Man Utd Reserves triumphant!

Leeds 2-3 Man Utd

I think it's our season to win the Mickey Mouse Cup. Not that I especially care one way or the other...!

I'm so very very evil

I live in a Chelsea area. (I know, that is a slightly misleading comment, it makes it look as though I live in Guildford). I have been told that the nearest football ground to my house is Chelsea. One of the pubs on my road is very Chelsea. Also, Gordon at work is a big Chelsea fan.

What fun I have had saying to Chelsea fans "I really tip Chelsea to win the UEFA Cup next season."

"No, no, no," they say hurriedly and confused. "We won the game yesterday - we're in the European Champions League..."

"It's not too late to qualify for the UEFA Cup, though," I say sweetly. And it dawns on them that I'm saying that Chelsea are so rubbish that they will get knocked out of the Champions League before it even reaches the League stage.

Champions!

Man Utd clinch title

the day thou gavest Lord is ended

He went to the pub to watch the football. I couldn't. I stayed at home and cleaned picture frames. I can't bear the football at this time of year.

So what if we're now Five points ahead with two games to go. They've got three matches and they can get nine points, so we have to get five to guarantee winning the Championship, so that really means six and therefore we have to beat Charlton at home and Everton away. Everton who are looking for a place in Europe.

This is English Premiership football. Either you're interested so you know exactly what's what, or you're not, and thus unlikely to click any link I might provide.

Ten years ago - ten years, it's like the blinking of an eye - when we won it for the first time in my lifetime, and Harriet and I sipped champagne out of Manchester United mugs, I thought that it would cease to matter: Holy Grail achieved, mission over.

But I'm ten years older and a few days wiser, and it still bloody matters.

I rustled up a stunning little meal, and I have to say I was jolly proud. A starter of pitted, spiced olives (from the Greek deli in Brixton), M&S Irish soda bread and Kerrygold, a main of Marks and Spencer Fish pie and Tesco sweetcorn, and a pudding of M&S zabaglione, washed down with a bottle of Tesco Chianti Classico Reserva (you see, Lyle, I am entirely promiscuous in my use of supermarkets). We could have had it slumped on the sofa on our laps in front of TV, but, no we sat up at table, with a solitary candle burning,
and "Classic Ads" on the CD, the table adorned by a small vase of fabric flowers.

We decided that we shall have, as "Our Song" Ella Fitzgerald's 'Someone To Watch Over Me.' Better than 'Strangers in the Night'.

Incidentally, 'Bel, I would be lying if I said that my posts yesterday were not influenced in some measure by your personal circumstances, but also by the posting of another blogger on my list; also by some risque banter in the week with the person I dreamed about, plus an ongoing discussion with Jimmy about why his ex-wife's infidelity led to their marriage ending, yet his frequent dalliances didn't seem to count.

Plus the damn annoying wet fish face slapping dream, which unnerved me.

Match of the Millenium....Bye bye, Sol

Henry was off-side.

All Saints, Clive Anderson, Benny Andersson, Jeremy Beadle, Dani Behr, Nigel Benn, Jackie Chan, Alan Davies, Ray Davies, Dido, Frankie Dettori, Colin Firth, Ainsley Harriot, Audley Harrison, HRH Prince Harry of Wales, Kate Hoey MP, Nick Hornby, Gary Kemp, Martin Kemp, Reggie Kray, Chris Lowe, Rory McGrath, Ronnie O'Sullivan, Johnny Rotten, Greg Rusedski, The Shamen, Chris Smith MP, Mel Smith, David Soul, Pete Tong, Phil Tuffnell, Barbara Windsor, Dale Winton.

Your boys were....DRAWN... this evening! Season on!

What an atmosphere! It was like being on the terraces in the 80s! Couldn't see a bloody thing. Half the neighbourhood were in the pub - the other half were in the rough pub. Every race and creed and colour in the world were in the pub. It's never been so busy - except for when the Black Elvis is on, said one of the Three Ians.

Woo woo woo woo woo woo

SEASON ON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We've got Blackburn, Tottenham, Charlton and Everton.

The Dirty Cheating Bastards have got Middlesbrough, Bolton, Leeds, Southampton and Sunderland.

SEASON ON!!!!!

No one else matters

Duel to the end!

SEASON ON!!!!!!!

this was post was brought to you by Gordon's Gin and Schweppes Bitter Lemon (Cadbury Scweppe's website is so shite it does not give me the opportunity to display. Mind you, the Gordon's Gin site doesn't understand deep links....)

And the Hand-in-Hand sauna.

Phew what a scorcher!

A wizard and other miscellany

I was delighted to see Manchester United win 5-3 yesterday against Newcastle, thanks to Paul Scholes, Ruud van Nistelrooy (3) and Ole Gunnar Solskjaer. So far, they've had a fairly variable season, sailing through the first group stage of the European Cup and spluttering in the League. With Liverpool and Arsenal losing, United are fifth, six points behind the Arse. - to make a bid for the top. Everton are in a very strange third place.

Yesterday evening we went to see Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. I would definitely recommend it. We went to "...and the Philosopher's Stone" by accident: me thinking Jimmy wanted to go, and he thinking that I did. Neither of us thought we would like it, but there was no question whatsoever about going to this one. Don't misunderstand me - it's not great, or massively thought provoking, and SPOILER the Goodies won over the Baddies<. /SPOILER>.

Incidentally, I got side-tracked by this bulletin board where some person kicked up a whole storm by saying that Harry Potter should be filmed in American accents. One person posted:

No offense, and not to go against the Rowling's work, but why can't you believe American publishers changed some sayings and words (like the title of book 1)? They had too. Sure the original British English could have fostered dialogues between parents and children across the U.S., but really, "jumper"? An American child reads that word and won't ask what it is because we have our own notions of what a "jumper" is and it's not a sweater. We would have read that wrong and then had the wrong image in our heads.

Things like soccer or the word billion. In British aren't they football and trillion. American's football is a very different sport and a trillion is so much larger than a billion. Or how about that a public school in America would be a state school in Britain or that a public school in Britain would be a private school in America. Certain words need the translation to avoid confusion.

Just as books need to be translated from British into French or Japanese, they also need translated into American English. And vice-versa I'm sure. The two languages are not at all interchangable. I like British English. I love movies set in Britain, but that's because in the movies I can get the context of the language from the visuals on screen. In a book, it's a bit harder. Certain sayings in Britain mean other things in America. But if there are American sayings that better convey the British meaning, why not translate? It's not an insult to American youth and their intelligence, but a logical way to make sure that American children truly understand and see J.K. Rowling's story and vision as she intended.

I have to admit to being shocked at that. When I was a child I read quite a few books from North America - notably, those by Louisa M Alcott (Little Women etc), LM Montgomery (Anne of Green Gables) and Laura Ingalls Wilder (Little House on the Prairie). These were not translated into English English, and some of the expressions and words threw me, but I seem to remember that I somehow I just absorbed that words were slightly different, and part of the richness of reading is learning about far away places.

This afternoon I had a bit of a bad back, so I went for a long soak in the bath. when I got out, Jimmy asked me to get some chocolates out of the fridge 'because they need eating'. So I held them above my head and looked up to see if there was a 'Best Before' date on the bottom. I did a nasty injury to my neck, which made it nigh on impossible to move for half an hour, and still hurts now about five hours later. I later spoke on the phone to my brother, a doctor. He diagnosed Walnut Whiplash.