Archive | September, 2012

Yet Another John Terry Piece


I feel a little like the despairing Michael Corleone in The Godfather, Part III this week. That famous quote has been lodged in my head since the FA decided to hand the incomparable John Terry a four match ban and a week’s wages in fines for racially abusing a fellow professional on Thursday.

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Arsene Wenger’s Blue & White Army?

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I was left in a state of befuddlement during the first few minutes of Tottenham’s away trip to Reading last week. Somehow, my team looked unfamiliar. “Who are these imposters?” I asked  myself for nearly ten minutes. This state of momentary discombobulation couldn’t be put down to the parade of new faces representing my team. Nor was it the relative strangeness of a new man in the dugout outlaying a system of play that currently seems mystifyingly alien to those of us who reluctantly enjoyed the cavalier footballing philosophy of the Harry Redknapp era.

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Hillsborough – The Apology


“On behalf of the government, and indeed of our country, I am profoundly sorry that this double injustice has been left uncorrected for so long.”

 David Cameron

What else was a serving Prime Minister of Her Majesty’s government expected to say on the day when the truth that the majority of us knew to be so, was finally and incontrovertibly proven? Liverpool fans were not responsible for the tragedy that took the lives of ninety-six souls and impacted thousands more on that day twenty-three years ago. Those who grossly and malevolently colluded to contrive untruths, were.

Apologies should be humble by their very nature. They show an ability to admit one’s wrongdoing; that one is fallible; that one can reflect upon that fallibility with self-awareness and thus strive to do better next time. This is how apologies work. They are not another opportunity for the egoist in us to bleat on about our own misjudged superiority.

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Don’t Panic: Spurs, Liverpool & The Lost Art Of Patience


I suffer from a peculiar, as yet undiagnosed, twenty-first century affliction and I blame Steve Jobs entirely. It is called iPod Twitch. Whenever said iPod is on shuffle, my poised thumb hovers over the skip button ready to move onto the next song within three seconds of hearing what is currently playing if the latter does not match my mood or fancy. I have over six thousand tunes stored in the little plastic and metal tablet and with such a collection temptingly at my disposal, I’m always greedily anticipating what lies ahead rather than what I’m actually listening to. As a consequence of this, I haven’t listened to an album in its entirety since 2007 where once I would allow myself to be consumed with the delights of the highs and lows of a band’s latest release.

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My Decadent Saturday Afternoon With Jeff Stelling


(or How Football Made Me A Happy Idiot)

So, I’m immersed in the popular philosophical writings of Michael Foley. He’s wittily dissecting the Age of Absurdity and expertly imploring his readers that they should all be Embracing the Ordinary in their lives. He’s doing this by using passages of prose by James Joyce and as I read, I’m getting the revelatory impression that I’m understanding most of what Joyce was going on about.

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