24 May 2012

The End Credits


If you’re reading this I’m afraid it’s because I have passed on, and not before time.

All of how I felt about life and death is well documented on this blog and the old one (http://voyporustedes.blogspot.com/) for all to see so I’ll spare you a lengthy grandiose philosophical goodbye speech.

You should all know for the most part I enjoyed my life, but am glad it’s over now.  In truth my life ended some months ago.  Had it continued any longer I would simply have died of boredom.

“Judge a man by the company he keeps.” Who said that?  Someone clever. Whenever I experienced any kind of crisis of conscience about the kind of person I was, I just reminded myself of the company I kept.  I always had such awesome friends…surely, they couldn’t all be wrong?

They probably won’t make a movie of my life, but I want to thank you all for the parts you played in my story.  It could so easily have been a painfully depressing straight to DVD waste of everyone’s time and money, instead you made it at least as good as anything Keanu Reeves was in and for that I thank you all from the bottom of blackened heart.

Right, I better go.

Via con dios, mis amigos, be careful out there.


20 May 2012

19 May 2012

Toot Toot

Is it me or does the "Fußball Arena München" look an awful lot like the Hindenburg airship that caught fire and disintegrated over Lakehurst, New Jersey attempting to dock after it's trip across the Atlantic 75 years ago on May 6th, 1937.  

I hope this isn't an awful omen.  I hope we're not now about to see a further Squareheaded disastrous disintegration inside a massive bubble.  As you may have gleaned, we here at the blog are invested in the Champions League final this even in favour of the Boche.

Jerry are clearly favourites, but making it to the final has taken its toll on their squad numbers. Player attrition on both sides in fact has meant the final will be played out with many of the best players watching from the stands.  

For this reason we are on Didier Drogba to score in 90mins at 12/5 as the dudes who would usually have covered him - Badstuber(?) and Alaba are suspended.

There's been talk of figuring out a way of preventing so many players from missing the final as a consequence of silly yellow cards.  My idea is for the managers to tell the players to stop getting booked needlessly.  And then, for the players to actually not get booked needlessly.  Only get booked for whacking another player so that it leaves a bruise, that's what I always say. 

We're also invested in Blackpool to win the play-off thing today in 90 minutes 3/1.  If there's a team that can come third in the league and then lose in a play-off final to a team finishing fifth and eleven points behind, it's West Ham.  Sam Allardyce deserves no better of course.

Finally, we've actually back a horse today.  I'm not keen however.  The Nile 3:20 newmarket 5/2.  If there's a bet I could have back this week, it would be this one.  But never mind.  You've got to laugh.  I'm off now for a snooze and then to prepare for winning so much money i'll be able to own Facebook in five years time when it's worth less than a book.  All abroad the good ship Hindenburg.  Toot Toot!

14 May 2012

The day havoc cried

I haven't often agreed with Alex Ferguson, which I'm told keeps him awake at night, but I did when he was asked "how he felt" that night in Barcelona when Manchester United had just beaten Bayern Munich in the Champions League final with two injury time goals.

"Football, bloody hell!" was his response.  Fucking hell, was mine.  What else can you say really at moments like that, but bloody hell? Or a solitary, Fuck?  It sums it up perfectly. Bloody hell.  Rare moments those.  Those are the moments when I justify my love for football to myself, which is becoming an increasingly hard sell.

I warned on Saturday of the coming of chaos, and I think it's fair to say that was rather prophetic.  There's no other experience that I can think of off the top of my head that can put a person through such a torrid storm of emotions in one and half hours. The fact that it is just a game is irrelevant.  The emotions it provokes are very real and it's emotions that remind us we are alive.

But, life without pain has no meaning and after forty four years of it, Manchester City fans' lives have had enough meaning, they were ready for the good stuff, the stuff that makes no sense but you love how it feels.   

I was just blogging a few days ago about how the recent Manchester derby would be forgotten as it wasn't a title decider.  Arsenal's night at Anfield I explained, was a moment in history never to be repeated.  Well, I didn't expect City to score two goals in injury time to win a game they were losing to QPR - the team with the worst away record - and steal the title away from absolutely devastated rivals Manchester United.
United's players were still on the pitch in Sunderland trying hard to maintain their composure before they were officially proclaimed champions when City's winning goal was scored.  The announcement of 3-2 to City rather than Manchester United are Champions was not immediately understood by their players.

You almost felt sorry for them.  Almost.  That second of disbelief.  That horrible second where you hope you've misheard and the blood freezes.  The frantic search for a way for this not to have happened.  Then the realism you have been royally fucked for posterity.

It was such a moment in footballing history it has left me completely indifferent as we speak to Arsenal's qualification for the Champion's League again next season. The tottering ton's won, and that would have been intolerable for them to have qualified while we waited for Chelsea to seal our fate.

I'm sure the relief will wash over me when Chelsea either beat the Squareheads, or we thank our lucky stars when Totterinton are losing in the qualifiers to one of the big European teams they could end up playing, but for now,.... football, bloody hell! 

13 May 2012

Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war

West Bromich, yesterday

The military cry of "Havoc" was the instruction for the soldiers in the middle ages to go mental.  To pillage and chaos.  It's football equivalent, the whistle to start the games of the last Sunday of the season, is about to be blown.

Hold on to something chaps.  Especially if you're from Manchester.  Or if you support Manchester United.  I've got something stirring in my bowels and it's not that chicken Mexican wrap I ate yesterday. 

I was instructed by a higher power to invest a few shillings at 7/1 on Manchester City to win the derby game but for Manchester United to win the league.  Seemed like a standard throw away mug punt at the time.  But I'm now not so sure.  QPR only need a point to stay up.  That's park the bus-able.

I like it now.  It feels right.  I have visions in my mind of rows of rows of City fans in sky blue shirts hands on their heads in speechless despair.  A despair that is unique to football.  

As for Arsenal's trip to West Bromich.  Win or lose I still only see despair.  Whatever happens to Arsenal, at least we don't live there.

Good luck everyone.

Edit: Oh..out standing wagers's's's...(not sure if outstanding should be one word, only the will tell):

We've got a final mug's Yankee; wins required for Norwich, Stoke, Swansea and Sunderland.

We've backed Getafe (6.0) as we just cannot find any justification for Zaragoza being favourites (despite needing the win to stay in the La Liga).

Manchester United to become champions (second half of bet at 7/1 that needed City to win the derby game a couple of weeks ago, but United to be crowned champions).

Finally, we need the squareheads to win the Champions League next weekend.