It’s all about Pelè’s Beautiful Game and we should all be worshipping at the altar of the Camp Nou right? Not everybody thinks so. Like a Vandal striking at the gates of Rome, Arsenal fan Natasha Henry is here to celebrate the non-aesthetes. Yes, she’s an Arsenal fan.
Tag Archives | Bale
The Amazing Adventures Of Captain Scott Parker
Chapter 33: In which our hero gains a promotion, takes on the Dutch and continues to look utterly dashing.
The call came one Tuesday afternoon whilst Wing Commander Scottisworth Parker was enjoying a brief moment of R&R at his gentleman’s club, deep in the heart of Marylebone. He had spent the morning fulfilling his role as Housewife’s Officer of Choice by posing for a promotional advertisement in which he side-parted his short back and sides with a leading hairstyling wax. By three o’clock he was firmly ensconced in a leather armchair, sucking on a pipe whilst mulling over the latest issue of The Chap, paying great attention to an article within concerning the correct procedure in which one must button up one’s waistcoat.
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I Believe In Miracles: Why Spurs Will Win The Premier League
Around this time of year we’re apparently expected to suspend our natural proclivities for disbelieving. We’re expected to believe that our bank balances are healthy when our monthly statements depressingly prove otherwise, so that we can keep the family happy by lavishing them with cheaply manufactured toot. We’re also meant to believe that a benevolent pensioner in a red suit and a white beard scales down our non-existent chimneys to reward the goodness of children across the globe. Moreover, we’re asked to believe that the Big Man sent down his son and heir to save us all from ourselves on December the 25th, coincidentally synchronising his arrival with ancient pagan festivities. Why consider the boring facts when stuffing ourselves with dry turkey and sugary puddings feels so damned good, right?
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One Gary Speed
I never met you. You didn’t play for the club I support or any of the traditional teams that fuel the rivalry of this game of ours. So I never formulated any strong emotion towards you. If I’m being totally honest, you were one of those players who passed me by whenever I watched a game involving you, only for analysts to point out my tactical ignorance by explaining your titanic contributions to the midfield battles that are the crux of any match. And once shown, I would quietly acknowledge that you were a fantastic player who made the best of the skills you were given.
Marriage of Inconvenience
A year ago, soundtracked by a score of ethereal tranquillity and the desolate scattering of rustling papers in the wind, Nick Clegg went for a walk across this country’s dales and tower blocks. He looked us square in the eye and decried that politics had let us all down. He called it “a trail of broken promises” and he vowed that should we vote for him and his party, fairness would be restored to a society that had been ravaged by the gluttony of the Thatcher years and the self-serving transparency of the Blair era. He believed his words and so did I.
The Certainty Of Chance
For many of us, a new year brings with it the promise of new beginnings. Fresh challenges are there to be overcome. Old habits are consigned to the receding memory of the year that has gone as we try to re-mould and re-shape our personalities and foibles in the hope that the coming year will make us better people in some capacity. It just so happens that this particular year ends in a ‘one’. Fans of Tottenham Hotspur are particularly well-versed in the significance of that number and over the coming months, commentators and pundits will take every available opportunity to remind us all that whenever the year ends in a one, ‘it’s lucky for Spurs’. Watch out everybody, I can already hear the conversation taking place as Chas gives Dave a ring and says “Let’s get the band back together, for old time’s sake”.
My Eyes Have Seen The Glory
Sometimes there a moments in life that burn themselves into one’s psyche. They promise numerous re-tellings with the passing of years and serve to capture a small essence of just how glorious human endeavour and capability can be. The night of Tuesday 2nd November 2010 was, without falling into the trap of over-exaggerated hyperbole and believe me that is a distinct possibility, one of those splendidly rare occurrences. It was a night which demonstrated just how a collective will, working in tandem with the singular flair of an individual can triumph so comprehensively over the gargantuan obstacles of history, received wisdom and seemingly superior resources.
El Mayor Espectáculo del Mundo
It may not have been pretty. It may not have been the spectacle of extravagance and style that we would have hoped. At times it resembled a slugging contest with some truly thuggish gamesmanship but in the end the team that attempted to play with a fluidity of movement and expression of freedom prevailed. Spain are the World Champions. And despite my belief that neither Spain nor Holland were truly deserving of their place in the Final itself, it cannot be denied that of the two finalists, it was the Spaniards who did the most to warrant the title now bestowed upon them.
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In Defence Of Luis Suarez by Rachael Singh
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What’s The Point Of Scottish Football?
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Captain Caveman: The De-evolution of John Terry
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Alan Davies Is Here All Week
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Liverpool Football Club, 1892 – 2012 – An Obituary
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