I do hope Sir Alex Ferguson has recovered this morning from Manchester United’s exit last night from the Champions League – too “distraught” to face the media apparently, the purple-nosed one declared himself to be “in no fit state to talk”.
They were beaten by Real Madrid in the second leg, having been reduced to 10 men after the controversial sending off of Nani in the 56th minute and there has been the usual outcry from United fans about the unfairness of the sending off as it changed the game entirely. Up to that point they were undoubtedly the better side and it looked likely that they would definitely proceed to the next round.
In any game of football, however, a player is asking for trouble by connecting with an opponent’s midriff. Nani’s boot was definitely raised with painful consequences, accidental or not. That said, there was still palpable shock when the red card was brandished.
Mourinho’s decision to bring on Luka Modric straight away was a masterstroke and it was then Ronaldo, until that point largely subdued, reminded Old Trafford why he is such a formidable destroyer of defences. Both players scored within three minutes of one another and, however impudent it was for Mourinho to shake Ferguson’s hand and set off for the dugout with the final exchanges of stoppage time still to be played, the truth is the game had already been won.
At the final whistle, with one manager unable to bring himself to talk and another contemplating another pulsating Old Trafford victory for his collection, what we are left with is the whining of the United fans who feel they were robbed of the chance of further glory in this competition and a Turkish referee who will have probably needed a police escort leaving the stadium, before a swift flight back to Istanbul this morning.
But at the end of the day, it is just a football match – no-one died. So I leave you with the chorus to this well-known song by The Streets, [adapted to suit the gender change!]:
Dry your eyes mate
I know it’s hard to take but [his] mind has been made up
There’s plenty more fish in the sea
Dry your eyes mate
I know you want to make [him] see how much this pain hurts
But you’ve got to walk away now.
Watch Joey Barton’s press conference following his league debut for Marseille while on loan from Queens Park Rangers. Usually better known for his “bad boy” behaviour – his career and life have been marked by numerous controversial incidents and disciplinary problems and he has been convicted twice on charges of violence and charged with violent conduct three times by The FA.
And now his latest crime – against the country that are paying his wages! After butchering the French accent, in scenes reminiscent of Officer Crabtree in ‘Allo, ‘allo’, he also insulted his host country by criticising, in Franglais, French football, saying: ‘Maybe the one criticism of the French Ligue is it’s a leetle bit boring’.
Speaking in France before his league debut, Barton said: ‘Perhaps I shouldn’t say it, but I’m maybe a little too intelligent to be a footballer.’ Well he’s certainly proven to all of us that he has a degree of some kind ….. a degree of stupidity!
OK, I understand that “celebrities” live on an entirely different planet from the rest of us mere mortals but it never ceases to amaze me that these people feel the need to give their offspring such ridiculous names that they will surely hate their parents for when they’re old enough to understand the ridicule!
This is not a recent trend. In the 60’s Frank Zappa called his eldest daughter Moon Unit and, strangely, she is still known by this name today, whereas Zowie Bowie, son of David Bowie, changed his name unofficially at the age of 12 to the more normal “Joey” and around the age of 18 officially to Duncan Jones.
Oh, and don’t get me started on the Geldorf offspring of Fifi Trixibelle, Peaches Honeyblossom and Little Pixie, though these names may have had more to do with their mother, the late Paula Yates, who went on to have another daughter by the late Michael Hutchence and called that poor mite Heavenly Hiraani Tiger Lily!
So it comes as no surprise that Robbie Williams and his wife Ayda have decided to call their new daughter by the name of Theodora Rose, to be known “affectionately” as Teddy apparently. This after saying recently that they weren’t going to go for an “Apple-esque” celebrity name.
I wish people would remember that these cute little babies are going to grow up and will have to live with these names until they’re old enough to change them and a lot more thought could go into their choices. I can’t help but wonder that if Robbie’s next child is a boy then he may just call him “Train Set” or “Football” to keep the theme going. Those poor kids!!!
Despite living at the very least 15 miles from the nearest coastal area here on the southside of Glasgow, we are currently being plagued by marauding seagulls, keeping us awake at night with their squawking and littering the street with their droppings.
This noisy nightmare occurs every time there is something on at Hampden. They have replaced the pigeon population here as the “flying rats”, feasting on the fast food rubbish that the crowds drop willy nilly on the pavements as they leave the venue.
Can I therefore ask all the people attending the football matches at Hampden for London2012 to dispose of their rubbish in the bins provided. Thank you!
Following on from my last post, it seems that ‘Fergie Time’ has made it into the Urban Dictionary with the following description:
‘Fergie Time”: Any amount of time, in any football (soccer) match, which has been added on, in addition to the added time (injury time) that had already been prescribed at the end of the 90 minutes. Any amount of time that a match is played after the said amount of added time, is referred to as ‘Fergie Time’. (Added time of 3 minutes has been announced, play carries on after 93 minutes, player scores on 95 minutes).
I was also interested to see another entry in this section – ‘Fergie Watch’ which is a timepiece that runs contrary to the laws of physics. If your football team is winning after 90 minutes your watch actually runs faster than the referee’s. The other team’s coach has a watch that runs slower and the referee runs like the clappers whether you’re winning or losing. This is Fergie’s Watch.