This was about Capello patching it up with the media after their disastrous attempt at predicting a squad made them all look like, well the bunch of clueless average joes they undoubtedly are.
Buzzword bingo:
‘New Chapter’, ‘create new memories’, ‘compassion’, ‘my dream to manage the England team’ (more…)
Today was mainly about the papers and another paper.
I walked into WH Smith’s and was immediately distracted from The Sun by the Daily Express, The Daily Mail and The Daily Star. Islamic totty, Mount Everest record breaker and Jordan’s at it 7 times a night but still can’t get impregnated. Jordan if you’re needing a few extra goes I’ve got some free time. Anyway the pictures, together with all the usual shite after the fold.
Islamic Totty
“England United the World Invited”
Apart from Lord Treason obviously.
BBC3 have announced the 2nd coming of Special One TV. For anyone who doesn’t know this the Only Good Thing that came out of Setanta Sports (RIP). Check it out:
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And another wank phrase to no doubt be burned into my mind by the end of this year’s tournament:
“Maybe just maybe.”
Like fuck. The Sun’s™ official™ World Cup™ slogan™. I had successfully resisted the urge to empty my guts over what was previously a poorman’s James Richardson-style perusing of the papers in an open air bar. Right down to the fucking tiny slice of ice cream. (more…)
For this I ventured into the physical and psychological heart of England, otherwise known as Chinatown. Eventually finding a pub that actually showed football – and quite a good one too for it being English and all, will be coming back again – Devonshire Arms just on the edge of Soho, but really who charges £3.62 a pint?
Anyway I settled down to a surprisingly good view of the TV and unfortunately also within earshot of Jim Beglin’s dulcet tones. “Ever so well” is probably the gayest phrase in football history. And even worse, football has only it’s own commentators to blame. I have never heard anyone other than such titanic intellectuals such as Jamie Redknapp, Andy Townsend and Jimboy here utter these three moronic words. Have to laugh at a line from Beglin’s wiki page:
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A new perspective on the reaction to the 30 chosen ones
Capello names provisional list of excuses
excruiciatingly wank England ads:
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Should also say I spotted at lunchtime Tuesday outside my gaff in a hip (read: only blacks and Irish actually live here) up and coming inner city area:
escaped cubicle dwellers
The fuckers have started to get in the mood already. Like a gaggle of public schoolboys chasing after the leathery orb through Hyde Park sometime in the 1800s, these guys had (rather bravely/stupidly it has to be said) commandeered the ‘hoods local basketball court to have a cheeky game of ‘footie’
[continued from Day two]
…well by at least two hours anyway. The Italian Stallion named only 30 in his shortlist (when really he should have picked every elligible player in the Premiership to make sure all angles were covered) and the doubting began…
Yesterday wasn’t too bad.
The Sun were content to plaster Premiership winners Chelski all over the backpages, and today I was in a relatively upbeat mood. We still had a hung parliament, and with a little luck the talk from the radicals was all about a second election in a few weeks. Just in time for the first match I thought to myself.
But this ignored several warning signs:
And the best, most ridiculously long-winded, rebuttal of all comes from Martin Samuel of the Mail (more…)
As I performed the usual gymnastics avoiding the fucking demon “ding! ding!” cyclists en route to work a deep seated fear I had not felt for a number of years began to glaze over my early morning stupor. England. At the Finals.
In best over dramatic Hollywood style everywhere I turned my head there were images:
My head spun. My blood went cold. But most of all my arse started to run.
Not since my last summer in London, England in 2006 had I felt this mixture of sustained and pressing mental torture and simultaneous uncontrollable atavistic rage.
This is a diary of my experience during England’s Adventure in South Africa.
And remember the last time it happened the fuckers invented concentration camps and indited the rest of us with them, so tread carefully…