As featured in The Guardian\
It’s the final Wednesday Dispatch, so what better way to bring a cracking season to a conclusion than by handing the Sofa over to someone who sits on it every day. Mrs Theoharis never knew what she was letting herself in for. Let her explain.
Read more on So I Married A Football Blogger by Nina Theoharis…
When I turned thirty I had what can only be described as the early onset of a post-quarter-life-midlife-crisis. I was consumed by the desire to do something kerr-ay-zee, so I took myself down to the local tattoo parlour on the eve of the 2008/9 season and booked myself in for an hour or so of self-inflicted skin-scratching, pricking, searing pain. On my right shoulder now resides a cockerel balanced on top of a football. It’s there forever. Forever, ever? Forever. And I hate it and love it in equal measure. It’s there now as a permanent reminder with its ink-stained durability, of the despairing futility that being a supporter of a football club brings. It’s a nihilistic pursuit, with little if any reward. Because like Spurs, I cannot ever erase it. It’s part of me now, for better or for worse.
Somewhere within the sprawling narrative of Dostoevsky’s novel The Brothers Karamazov, you’ll come across a literary oddity entitled Parable of the Grand Inquisitor. A short tangent but an intriguing one nonetheless, it tells the story of Jesus’ return to Earth as the fifteenth century gives way to the sixteenth and sees the second coming occur in Seville with no hint of celestial fanfare. Nevertheless, the unannounced stranger causes quite a stir as he goes about restoring a blind man’s eyesight and resurrecting a recently deceased child of seven years.
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.
“Right now I’m having amnesia and déjà-vu at the same time. I think I’ve forgotten this before” – Steven Wright
It’s probably fair to assume that it hasn’t been the best week in Alan Davies’ career. Listening to the now infamous Tuesday Club podcast, in which the ‘comedian’ managed to alienate most of Liverpool with his misguided comments about Liverpool Football Club’s refusal to play on the fifteenth of April, it comes across as the snide rantings of a pernicious classroom ‘wit’ who elicits cheap laughs from his gang of sycophantic mates at the expense of the kid with a weight problem/spots/lack of sexual experience. It was malicious in its tone and as a consequence, he has been under fire all week with some equally distasteful comments being aimed in his direction from some in the football community.
It was a very rare public show of emotion from Sir Alex Ferguson last Monday night. With his side having all but sealed the three points against a stubborn Blackburn, the old curmudgeon pumped both fists in a victorious gesture of defiance towards the visiting support. It was in that moment that it became clear that the latest threat to his supremacy at the game’s zenith had been vanquished should the remainder of the season conclude with Manchester United sweeping all before them. Manchester City had blown it. And he didn’t have to break sweat.
Read more on His And Her Dark Materials: The Mind Games Of Samantha Brick & Alex Ferguson…
Note: This Dispatch trades in lazy stereotypes. Newcastle fans, read to the end.
On a trip up to Edinburgh on the East Coast Main Line last August, one of the stops en route was Newcastle. As the train approached the city, the Tyne Bridge emerged with industrial majesty from the sunny haze of the train’s window and I inexplicably felt a slight shiver of awe. Almost immediately, as we waited to pull away from the station, we were greeted with the sight of a man in a Newcastle home shirt banging on one of the station platform’s vending machines uttering barely decipherable curses, having lost his money whilst trying to stay steady on his feet.
Read more on Our Friends In The North: The Rise And Rise Of Newcastle United…
I am an atheist. This is to my grandmother’s eternal disapproval seeing as she has grown increasingly more religious during the final chapters of her life. Seeking solace in the comforting warmth and promises that religion offers is understandable for an eighty-two year old woman. As for her grandson, he could tell you about the time he held a chimpanzee in his arms and could see in that moment the clear, fleeting connection humans shared with primates before our evolutionary paths forked. Or he could spend the best part of a thousand words debunking the myths of religion. But I am no Richard Dawkins. I am neither zealot nor crusader. Believe what you want to believe.
It promised to bring a more varied and original approach to football writing but George Ogier feels the Great Football Blog Boom has gone bust. And he knows just who to blame…
In the space of seven days, two Russians have asserted their authority with characteristic ruthlessness. In Moscow, Vladimir Putin is currently snuffing out any dissent that has arisen from his contested election victory last Sunday. Meanwhile, in the borough of Hammersmith and Fulham, Roman Abramovich yet again demonstrated that his willingness to abandon his managerial appointments in favour of a dressing room dominated by preening egos is probably the greatest hindrance to Chelsea’s long-term future at the English game’s summit.
Read more on Mutiny At Stamford Bridge: The Downfall Of Villas-Boas…
In Defence Of Luis Suarez by Rachael Singh
What’s The Point Of Scottish Football?
Captain Caveman: The De-evolution of John Terry
Alan Davies Is Here All Week
Liverpool Football Club, 1892 – 2012 – An Obituary
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