Women keep telling us we don't know wot its like to be pregnant.
Well, me begs to differ.
Every year, fer as long as me can remember, many men folk suffer from sleepless nites, nausea, sweaty palms, anxiety, nervous fits, wild mood swings, euphoric highs followed by severe depressions.
Yup folks, its the nine months that make up footie season!
Showing posts with label footie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label footie. Show all posts
Monday, August 22, 2011
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Calling all Kopites!
And so it begins. The palpitations, the sweaty palms, the nervous anticipation & the huge expectation that comes with the start of every new season.
So all ye Kopites reading this, ye is invited to come sink a few cold ones, make some noise & wear yer Kopite colours on yer sleeve @ The Bank, Plaza Kelana Jaya.
YNWA!!!
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Paul . . . The Biopic
This was in yesterday's Guardian, whicxh in me mind highlights just how maddeningly popular footie is compared to any other sport known to mankind:
The Life & Times of Paul the Octopus
While eight new Paul the Octopuses go head-to-head during the Women's World Cup to choose a successor for the late tipster, his legacy has been preserved on celluloid, reports Der Spiegel.
Filmmaker Alexandre Philippe has captured the mighty one in a documentary entitled The Life and Times of Paul the Psychic Octopus. Philippe spent four days with Paul and spoke to cephalopod experts, statisticians and bookmakers. "I think the world is always craving stories like this; an underdog story - or rather an underoctopus story."
"No one has really been able to do what Paul was able to do. It's charged with positive energy and feeling, and people couldn't help but embrace it," he said.
As the search continues for Paul's replacement, Phillipe is unsure he can ever be replaced. "There have been a lot of animals who people have tried to get to do predictions," he said. "They're pretty bitter about the fact that Paul could do it. He could do something that no other animal or human could do."
Perhaps Paul really was unique, the film-maker himself does not want to rule out any possibilities: "There's the significance of the number eight — eight tentacles, eight matches predicted correctly, eight goals scored during the tournament by Spain. It's all very interesting," he said.
Intriguingly, however, it's not the only film underway, as a Chinese company is also at work on a black comedy entitled: The Murder of Paul the Octopus, although Phillipe's movie has the superior tagline: "One mouth, two eyes, eight arms, nine brains … Two BILLION fans."
Monday, August 16, 2010
The season is well &truly upon us!
Caption: A young Kopite is dejected after Pepe's blunder . . . Ah well, despite a near disastrous outing with the MyRawk dudes (not their fault but fooking Astro's!!!), me was sufficiently pleased with the outcome of our season opener.
Great thing about the start of every football season is that it brings a sliver of opitmism to all concerned, even to hardened cynics like meself. Let season roll on!
Friday, July 23, 2010
Get Shirty
Ye've got to hand it to them, these ruling coalition muthafookers. They truly are master manipulators & sly-as-fooking-fox shit-stirrers.
In case ye haven't heard, some half-arsed cleric has stoked the fires by calling fer a ban on certain football jerseys. And quite knowingly decided to stir the hornet's nest by singling out the glory hunter factory that is man yew. (http://news.malaysia.msn.com/weird-news/article.aspx?cp-documentid=4232887)
And typically responding by accussing said cleric as a Kopite, these effing khants conveniently forget the REAL issue at hand.
HARGA PETROL NAIK LAGI LA BODOH!!!!
In case ye haven't heard, some half-arsed cleric has stoked the fires by calling fer a ban on certain football jerseys. And quite knowingly decided to stir the hornet's nest by singling out the glory hunter factory that is man yew. (http://news.malaysia.msn.com/weird-news/article.aspx?cp-documentid=4232887)
And typically responding by accussing said cleric as a Kopite, these effing khants conveniently forget the REAL issue at hand.
HARGA PETROL NAIK LAGI LA BODOH!!!!
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
When's the next flight to Ascuncion?
(Lifted from the online reports)
Introducing: Paraguay’s ‘biggest’ fan
Larissa Riquelme gives the thousands of heartbroken Paraguayan fans something to cheer about despite their national team’s exit from the World Cup.
It's a troubling time for Paraguayans across the globe. Up to 50% of its population lives in poverty. An ever worsening economic recession continues to devastate the nation's wealth. Job opportunities and household income carry on worsening with every waking moment. And more recently, its national football team suffered an exit from the 2010 World Cup by the hands of the Spanish.
However, amidst the prevalence of this madness, one loyal Paraguayan stands out amongst a crowd of chaos as a voice of reason. One woman, benevolent of her nation's happiness and well-being sets out to accomplish what her national football team could not, to lift her nation's spirits, even if it means 'taking it all off' in the most literal sense of the phrase.
Larissa Riquelme, 25 year-old lingerie model, made a promise to her nation's people, that she would match Diego Maradona's promise to run naked through the streets of Buenos Aires if Argentina had won the World Cup.
Instead, Larissa would do it in Asunción, the capital of Paraguay, at the cost of simply reaching the semi-finals. However, Paraguay failed to make it pass Spain and the hearts of the nation slumped into an abyss of devastation. But the benevolent Larissa would not let this be.
Larissa has said that she's still going to carry out her promise, despite the Paraguayan team's premature exit from the 2010 World Cup. Such is the dedication and compassion of one Larissa Riquelme, citizen of Paraguay, our hero.
FFS says: And yet some people say this edition of the Copa Mondial has been dull . . .
ps: Sour grape aunties in me dept say them globes are fooking fake . . .
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Roy it is . . .
Barring formalities, Roy Hodgson will be unveiled as new man in charge at Anfield later today. The board has decided to go fer someone with huge amounts of experience (but not very many medals to show fer it).To be honest, am quite sanguine about the whole thing as, in me humble opinion, it don't really make a difference. As long as them two yanks are there ripping the soul (and cash) out of the club, no manager will succeed.
Transfer funds - a paltry 15million quid.
Transfer tagets? ex-Kop hero Danny Murphy who is 35 & Brett Hangeland who is outside our price bracket at . . . (wait fer it) . . . 12million quid.
In such circumstances, me cannae help but see this as the beginning of our slippery slide into mid-table oblivion or worse . . .
Monday, June 28, 2010
World Cup Reportage PtIII
After a first half that promised to turn this meeting of old foes into the first genuine classic of the tournament, before it turned into a one-sided march reminiscent of Germany v Oz match &, at times, Portugal v N Korea.Such was the incisiveness of the German counter attacks in the second half that the stars of the bestest, greatest league in the world look ponderous & amateurish in comparison. Case in point - Gareth Barry. En route to setting up the fourth goal, Mesut Ozil sped past Barry like a Fiat Coupe overtaking a Toyota Vios. And if he wasn't fully fit, why was he in the strating XI? And Barry wasn't alone. Matthew Upson, despite scoring a goal, was woefully short of international class & quality. Rooney as good as Messi? In yer fooking dreams. Our own Stevie G looked lost stuck out on the left.
Were the English once again the victims of horrendous officiating? As bad as the decision to disallow Lampard's goal was, there is nay hiding the fact that the Germans were vastly superior in nearly every department. Tactically, individually and mentally, the Germans outclassed England to set up a mouth-watering clash with Argentina this weekend.
Even the famously jingoistic Daily Mail had to agree on this. There was nay hiding from the deficiencies of a squad that played miserably throughout the tournament.
England, now deservedly, joins Italy and France as the other heavyweights to exit the tourney after a series of frankly turgid & lifeless performances.
Comments?
Friday, June 25, 2010
World Cup Reportage PtII
What possesses a man who has reached the pinnacle of his chosen profession to try do it again?Like Muhamad Ali & his ill-advised comebacks post-Rumble In The Jungle, Marcello Lippi looked very much like a battered & beaten prize fighter after their devastating defeat to Slovakia this morning.
Lippi had been awarded the highest civil honour in his homeland fer his part in bringing the Copa Mundial back to Italy fer the third time. Winning this trophy as a coach/manager is pretty much a once-in-a-fooking-lifetime thing (unless, of course, yer Mario Zagallo), so wot made him come back & try to recapture a glory with a visibly tired & old team?
He has admitted he did not think they would win it this time round so why tarnish his near impeccable credentials?
Ego or responding to his sense of patriotic duty? Would love to read wot ye guys think of this inglorious failure.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Monday, June 7, 2010
In Defence of The Beautiful Game . . .
“Its just twenty two men running around the field chasing a bag of wind . . .”
Yes, its that time of the sporting calendar again when some journalist/columnist will see fit to wheel out that most hackneyed of quotes in the name of creative writing. Without fail, every single World Cup sees valuable column inches wasted by these tiresome tirades about how they are sick of having footie shoved down their throats, of the media-saturation that follows this sporting bonanza, and how they are missing their fave soaps due to other family members hogging the remote.
Boo-fooking-hoo!
And at the risk of sounding like a fooking MCP, it’s almost always the women folk who feel the need to recycle this chestnut like they are dispensing some sort of sagely advice. As if having to put up with these pseudo-columnists isn’t fooking bad enough, unfortunately, many feel the need to repeat this ad museum as though it were some fooking mystic mantra. Me remembers when me was running a football-themed bistro during the 2002 World Cup and me overheard a lady patron spew out the above-mentioned quote.
Despite the place being jammed pack with customers and me was laden with orders, me coolly put down me tray and launched into an attack on this unfortunate soul who was telling her companions how silly men were for wasting time on such frivolous matters.
“How dare you belittle this beautiful game as mindless nonsense when you ladies lose all sense of reason & perspective when faced with four simple letters – S.A.L.E!” At which point her dining companions which included her hubby gave me a round of applause. Yes, me knows it sounds self-righteous-as-fook but all too often we have to listen to non-converts dole out such gems that me feels compelled to retort.
Why can’t they appreciate the excitement and unpredictability that is sports when they stay glued to vacuous soaps? Do they not realise that aside from sainthood, this is the closest thing a person can do to achieve immortality of sorts? Don’t believe me? Why are the names Garrincha, Puskas and Moore still talked about in such revered tones long after their owners have left their mortal coil.
Of course, many will try to defend their position by saying they can’t understand the hullabaloo when it is only a game. ONLY . . . A . . . GAME.
Again, their pig-ignorance fails to recognise the social importance football has on society. They will have failed to see how Zvonimir Boban became a national icon when he openly assaulted policemen who were beating on Croatian supporters at a Dinamo Zagreb v Red Star Belgrade game just before the Balkan states imploded into civil war.
Why is Maradona revered in his homeland when he openly cheated on the biggest stage of all? Because he single-handedly (yes, pun fully intended) buried the shame and humiliation a nation felt at their defeat in the Falklands War.
The above examples are perfect illustrations of George Orwell’s description of sports being war minus the weapons. But instead of revelling in the game’s ability to foster notions of nationhood, patriotism and even revolution, these ignoramuses prefer to see it as Neanderthals banging on the big drum of tribalism.
And if they had bothered to watch the fascinating documentary series on Astro’s ch804 called ‘International Football Rivalries’, they will note that Czechs and Slovaks are openly suspicious of each other but will countenance reunification only because the national football team would be in better shape!
Do these people not comprehend what it means to score in a World Cup final? One of the most enduring images me recalls is from the 1982 edition when Marco Tardelli reeled away bug-eyed with euphoria after his goal sent Italy on their way to their third crown. Such was the emotion that the term ‘Tardelli cry’ has entered the popular lexicon of Italy – meaning ‘unbridled joy’ or ‘crazy celebrations’. How’s that for cementing your place in folklore?
Me fully understands that not everyone appreciates the game but instead of spewing gormless sayings as the one above, they might do well to ponder on French Nobel Laureate Albert Camus’s altogether more meaningful quote -
“All that I know most surely about morality and obligations I owe to football."
Here’s to everyone enjoying the Copa Mundial in peace . . .
ps: me knows women (eg wifey) who know their shit who are, of course, NOT the target of this tirade . . .
Yes, its that time of the sporting calendar again when some journalist/columnist will see fit to wheel out that most hackneyed of quotes in the name of creative writing. Without fail, every single World Cup sees valuable column inches wasted by these tiresome tirades about how they are sick of having footie shoved down their throats, of the media-saturation that follows this sporting bonanza, and how they are missing their fave soaps due to other family members hogging the remote.
Boo-fooking-hoo!
And at the risk of sounding like a fooking MCP, it’s almost always the women folk who feel the need to recycle this chestnut like they are dispensing some sort of sagely advice. As if having to put up with these pseudo-columnists isn’t fooking bad enough, unfortunately, many feel the need to repeat this ad museum as though it were some fooking mystic mantra. Me remembers when me was running a football-themed bistro during the 2002 World Cup and me overheard a lady patron spew out the above-mentioned quote.
Despite the place being jammed pack with customers and me was laden with orders, me coolly put down me tray and launched into an attack on this unfortunate soul who was telling her companions how silly men were for wasting time on such frivolous matters.
“How dare you belittle this beautiful game as mindless nonsense when you ladies lose all sense of reason & perspective when faced with four simple letters – S.A.L.E!” At which point her dining companions which included her hubby gave me a round of applause. Yes, me knows it sounds self-righteous-as-fook but all too often we have to listen to non-converts dole out such gems that me feels compelled to retort.
Why can’t they appreciate the excitement and unpredictability that is sports when they stay glued to vacuous soaps? Do they not realise that aside from sainthood, this is the closest thing a person can do to achieve immortality of sorts? Don’t believe me? Why are the names Garrincha, Puskas and Moore still talked about in such revered tones long after their owners have left their mortal coil.
Of course, many will try to defend their position by saying they can’t understand the hullabaloo when it is only a game. ONLY . . . A . . . GAME.
Again, their pig-ignorance fails to recognise the social importance football has on society. They will have failed to see how Zvonimir Boban became a national icon when he openly assaulted policemen who were beating on Croatian supporters at a Dinamo Zagreb v Red Star Belgrade game just before the Balkan states imploded into civil war.
Why is Maradona revered in his homeland when he openly cheated on the biggest stage of all? Because he single-handedly (yes, pun fully intended) buried the shame and humiliation a nation felt at their defeat in the Falklands War.
The above examples are perfect illustrations of George Orwell’s description of sports being war minus the weapons. But instead of revelling in the game’s ability to foster notions of nationhood, patriotism and even revolution, these ignoramuses prefer to see it as Neanderthals banging on the big drum of tribalism.
And if they had bothered to watch the fascinating documentary series on Astro’s ch804 called ‘International Football Rivalries’, they will note that Czechs and Slovaks are openly suspicious of each other but will countenance reunification only because the national football team would be in better shape!
Do these people not comprehend what it means to score in a World Cup final? One of the most enduring images me recalls is from the 1982 edition when Marco Tardelli reeled away bug-eyed with euphoria after his goal sent Italy on their way to their third crown. Such was the emotion that the term ‘Tardelli cry’ has entered the popular lexicon of Italy – meaning ‘unbridled joy’ or ‘crazy celebrations’. How’s that for cementing your place in folklore?
Me fully understands that not everyone appreciates the game but instead of spewing gormless sayings as the one above, they might do well to ponder on French Nobel Laureate Albert Camus’s altogether more meaningful quote -
“All that I know most surely about morality and obligations I owe to football."
Here’s to everyone enjoying the Copa Mundial in peace . . .
ps: me knows women (eg wifey) who know their shit who are, of course, NOT the target of this tirade . . .
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Many congrats . . .
Congrats to man yew fans on winning the League . . . Cup!ps: Note - Mickey Mouse jibe in reference to the utter disdain most scummers have fer the humble trophy . . .
pps: Do forward this work of art - its an ori, me got me designer colleague to do this specially to commemorate the mancs' successful campaign.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Koptalk
Let's face it, as much we blame the fooking Yanks fer a disastrous season, some of it must lie at the doorstep of Rafa Benitez. Nay need to go into details, list is long and ardous.
And the writing's already on the wall, he is on his way out. Board unwilling to give aasurances & him wanting a budget he knows he's not gonna get.
So wot me wants to know is who ye think should replace him under the circumstances?
John Toshack? This candidate gets me vote as he is vastly experienced (Sociedad, Real Madrid, Wales) & is the last link to Shanks & the Boot Room. And just to dispel the myth, he has NEVER turned his back on us. When he was approached to fill Daglish's shoes, he had just signed fer Sociedad & was not about to break his contract. Me also feels that as former Kop hero, fans will be a bit more patient with him.
And the writing's already on the wall, he is on his way out. Board unwilling to give aasurances & him wanting a budget he knows he's not gonna get.
So wot me wants to know is who ye think should replace him under the circumstances?
John Toshack? This candidate gets me vote as he is vastly experienced (Sociedad, Real Madrid, Wales) & is the last link to Shanks & the Boot Room. And just to dispel the myth, he has NEVER turned his back on us. When he was approached to fill Daglish's shoes, he had just signed fer Sociedad & was not about to break his contract. Me also feels that as former Kop hero, fans will be a bit more patient with him.
King Kenny? Revered demigod now back as club ambassador. Fan's no1 choice but by his own admission he has not kept up with the game fer the last 5 years. Do we really want to hand over the reins to someone who has not kept abreast of latest developments - tactically & personnel wise? 
Alan Curbishsley? Former Charlton Athletic manager who is INCREDIBLY out of work since since getting the sack at West Ham a few years back. Once an England manager prospect & even touted as Houllier's successor, could he be the man to restore our fortunes?
Odds on fave since taking Fulham to its first European final. Vastly experienced & tactically astute. Also seen as next England gaffer. But me will always remember him as the man who condemned Blackburn to relegation despite blowing a fortune on transfer fees. Most famously, paying a then high £7.5m fer Kevin Davies who couldn't score in the proverbial brothel.
Come back Souey? Ha ha ha!
ps: Foreign legion - Louis Van Gaal? Ottmar Hitzfeld? Paul le Guen?
pps: Alumni - Gary McAlister? Markus Babel? Sammy Lee?
pps: Ex-scummers - Steve McLaren after winning Dutch title with FC Twente? Mark Hughes? (Don't laugh, Yanks could do this just to fooking spite us!)
ppps: Two sides of the coin - http://www.wsc.co.uk/content/view/5266/38/ or http://www.thisisanfield.com/kopblog/?_login=af8b81ea16/
Monday, April 26, 2010
Remember this?
Another World Cup approaches & me has yet to be infected by the fever of anticipation.
This is despite the possibility of seeing a true genius in the shape of Lionel Messi capture our footballing imaginations.
Somehow, have been experiencing seriously diminishing returns with the Greatest Show on Earth since the 1982 & 86 editions . . . Or is just coz me is getting fooking old?
Friday, January 22, 2010
Spanish 101
Ye learn something new everyday. And today, me pedigree chums, we are privileged to add a few choice Spanish phrases to our vocabulary.
'Chupamedias' meaning 'boot licker' (ie more polite way of saying 'cock sucking ingratiate') . . .
AND
'Tarado' meaning 'moron'. (ie more polite way of saying 'brainless fooking arsehole').
This lesson in espanyol was brought to ye courtesy of Senor Carlos Tevez (see below) . . . (*snigger*) . . .
From the Times - The sock exchange
Carlos Tévez used the Spanish word “chupamedias” to describe Gary Neville. It translates as “sock-sucker” or “boot-licker”. Later in the radio interview he labelled the Manchester United captain “tarado” (or moron).
To read full article, please click here: http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/sport/football/premier_league/manchester_city/article6997725.ece
Also, please cast yer vote at: http://www.guardian.co.uk/football/poll/2010/jan/22/gary-neville-moron-carlos-tevez-manchester-united
'Chupamedias' meaning 'boot licker' (ie more polite way of saying 'cock sucking ingratiate') . . .
AND
'Tarado' meaning 'moron'. (ie more polite way of saying 'brainless fooking arsehole').
This lesson in espanyol was brought to ye courtesy of Senor Carlos Tevez (see below) . . . (*snigger*) . . .
From the Times - The sock exchange
Carlos Tévez used the Spanish word “chupamedias” to describe Gary Neville. It translates as “sock-sucker” or “boot-licker”. Later in the radio interview he labelled the Manchester United captain “tarado” (or moron).
To read full article, please click here: http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/sport/football/premier_league/manchester_city/article6997725.ece
Also, please cast yer vote at: http://www.guardian.co.uk/football/poll/2010/jan/22/gary-neville-moron-carlos-tevez-manchester-united
Monday, January 11, 2010
Dem Basterd Yanks
Fooking hell . . . are these cunts ever gonna fook off?
Insult Plumbs LFC To New Depths
By Oliver Kay (Times UK)
"Blow me, ****face. Go to hell. I’m sick of you."
As an epitaph to the calamitous Hicks-Gillett regime at Liverpool, the ten-word e-mail sent by Tom Hicks Jr at 4am on Saturday, in response to a polite message from a concerned supporter, ticked just about every box. Brash, arrogant, offensive, crass, uncouth, contemptuous and hopelessly naive, it was the defining moment of almost three years of blundering, back-biting and broken promises at Anfield.
Hicks Jr, the son of Tom Hicks, the co-owner, eventually apologised to the supporter in question for "losing my temper and using bad language with you", calling it "a kneejerk reaction". A jerk’s reaction would probably be a better way of putting it and a more considered, appropriate response now would be to resign from his position on the club’s board.
But still, at least it was an apology; Liverpool’s supporters have been waiting a long time for one of those.
Hicks and George Gillett Jr made all the right noises when they swaggered into Liverpool in February 2007, red-and-white scarves draped around their shoulders, oozing folksy charm and pledging, among other things, to start building work on a new stadium within 60 days (oops), not to take the club into debt (it now stands at around £245 million), to be accessible ("go to hell") and "to add to the lustre of the club, not detract from it" ("blow me, ****face").
For a company director to insult a customer in such a way (and, yes, it irks to use such terminology) is a disgrace and yet somehow it is not the foul-mouthed language that irks most about Hicks Jr’s e-mail. Far worse is the contempt that runs through every word: contempt for the concerns expressed by a supporter who, without further comment, sent him a link to an article in the Liverpool Echo in which concerns were expressed about Rafael Benítez’s alarming struggle to find money to invest in a depleted, demoralised squad that is in severe danger of missing out on Champions League qualification.
The supporters’ concerns for Liverpool’s future, short and long term, are legitimate. Benítez appeared to acknowledge for the first time over the weekend that he may be forced to sell players such as Fernando Torres if they fail to qualify for next season’s Champions League — previously, in an interview with The Times in November, he had said he would resign rather than tolerate such a scenario — and for Hicks Jr to sneer at such concerns, whether he uses foul-mouthed insults or wit worthy of Oscar Wilde, is not acceptable.
For the sake of balance, it is worth pointing out here that Hicks, Gillett and their families have been subjected to some rather less civil e-mails and, according to Gillett, telephone calls since their ill-conceived dalliance with Liverpool took the first of many turns for the worse.
On a visit to Merseyside two years ago Hicks Jr decided, flanked by minders, to go for a post-match drink in The Sandon pub "because I have wanted to go for quite some time to see the birthplace of the club and I also wanted the opportunity to have a direct talk with some of the supporters". Suffice to say it was a brief conversation.
Liverpool’s supporters did everything to make Hicks and Gillett feel welcome in the spring of 2007. Unless it has been burnt, whether out of embarrassment or anger, there is a fan somewhere with a banner that, echoing the words of the MasterCard advert, ends with the phrase "for everything else, there’s George and Tom".
It was not until the season after — the unedifying and very public spats with Benítez, the talks with Jürgen Klinsmann, the decision to take the club heavily into debt, the continuing fiasco over the stadium — that warmth turned to hostility of the type that the Glazer family faced on their early visits to Manchester United.
Outsiders mistake the antiAmerican sentiment on Merseyside as a misplaced sense of empathy with Benítez. They look at the purchases of Torres, Javier Mascherano, Robbie Keane, Glen Johnson and others and suggest that Benítez, having been backed to the hilt, has only himself to blame for Liverpool’s failure to win a first league title since 1990. That is a different argument and a spurious one; whatever Benítez’s perceived faults — and his judgment in the transfer market last summer, albeit faced with a constrained budget, was highly questionable — he is far from being Liverpool’s weakest link.
Hicks and Gillett have made some good appointments in the commercial and financial sphere, helping to drive up the club’s revenue, but none of that counts for a bean when Liverpool were forced to pay £36.5 million in interest last season (and, at best, a similar figure this campaign). Ivan Gazidis, the Arsenal chief executive, said in an interview with The Times last week that "not all debt is bad", pointing out how the club’s interest bills are more than covered by the revenue generated by the move to the Emirates Stadium. Liverpool’s debt, by contrast, is very bad, existing for no other reason than to prop up a regime that, in every other sense, ran out of credit long ago.
Gillett took the unusual step of telephoning me the last time I criticised him and Hicks, telling me I had "got it all wrong" and that "debt per dollar, we are in a far better position than our rivals". His response was certainly more polite and more reasoned than that from Hicks Jr in the early hours of Saturday, but my deep reservations were not overcome. It is not a case of saying that Gillett or Hicks or their sons are bad people. It is simply the case that, between them, they have repeatedly shown themselves to lack the qualities needed to be worthy owners of Liverpool Football Club.
In February 2007 — the day he said that "the shovel needs to be in the ground within 60 days" with regards to the construction of a new stadium, where two years, 11 months and four days on, no shovel has yet been seen — Gillett said that "this isn’t about making money. This is about winning and passion and tradition".
Yet passion has been directed in all the wrong areas, traditions have been ignored, the aforementioned lustre has been tarnished and the widespread belief persists that they would be as willing as ever to sell up if they could be guaranteed a huge enough profit to show for all their hard work and dedication to the Liverpool cause.
That will be the final insult, when they depart — whether it is in six weeks, six months or six years — with a profit to their name. Hicks Jr’s e-mail in the early hours of Saturday was merely the latest, but, with those ten words, he plumbed new depths. Next time he is passing The Sandon, he would be advised to keep walking.
Insult Plumbs LFC To New Depths
By Oliver Kay (Times UK)
"Blow me, ****face. Go to hell. I’m sick of you."
As an epitaph to the calamitous Hicks-Gillett regime at Liverpool, the ten-word e-mail sent by Tom Hicks Jr at 4am on Saturday, in response to a polite message from a concerned supporter, ticked just about every box. Brash, arrogant, offensive, crass, uncouth, contemptuous and hopelessly naive, it was the defining moment of almost three years of blundering, back-biting and broken promises at Anfield.
Hicks Jr, the son of Tom Hicks, the co-owner, eventually apologised to the supporter in question for "losing my temper and using bad language with you", calling it "a kneejerk reaction". A jerk’s reaction would probably be a better way of putting it and a more considered, appropriate response now would be to resign from his position on the club’s board.
But still, at least it was an apology; Liverpool’s supporters have been waiting a long time for one of those.
Hicks and George Gillett Jr made all the right noises when they swaggered into Liverpool in February 2007, red-and-white scarves draped around their shoulders, oozing folksy charm and pledging, among other things, to start building work on a new stadium within 60 days (oops), not to take the club into debt (it now stands at around £245 million), to be accessible ("go to hell") and "to add to the lustre of the club, not detract from it" ("blow me, ****face").
For a company director to insult a customer in such a way (and, yes, it irks to use such terminology) is a disgrace and yet somehow it is not the foul-mouthed language that irks most about Hicks Jr’s e-mail. Far worse is the contempt that runs through every word: contempt for the concerns expressed by a supporter who, without further comment, sent him a link to an article in the Liverpool Echo in which concerns were expressed about Rafael Benítez’s alarming struggle to find money to invest in a depleted, demoralised squad that is in severe danger of missing out on Champions League qualification.
The supporters’ concerns for Liverpool’s future, short and long term, are legitimate. Benítez appeared to acknowledge for the first time over the weekend that he may be forced to sell players such as Fernando Torres if they fail to qualify for next season’s Champions League — previously, in an interview with The Times in November, he had said he would resign rather than tolerate such a scenario — and for Hicks Jr to sneer at such concerns, whether he uses foul-mouthed insults or wit worthy of Oscar Wilde, is not acceptable.
For the sake of balance, it is worth pointing out here that Hicks, Gillett and their families have been subjected to some rather less civil e-mails and, according to Gillett, telephone calls since their ill-conceived dalliance with Liverpool took the first of many turns for the worse.
On a visit to Merseyside two years ago Hicks Jr decided, flanked by minders, to go for a post-match drink in The Sandon pub "because I have wanted to go for quite some time to see the birthplace of the club and I also wanted the opportunity to have a direct talk with some of the supporters". Suffice to say it was a brief conversation.
Liverpool’s supporters did everything to make Hicks and Gillett feel welcome in the spring of 2007. Unless it has been burnt, whether out of embarrassment or anger, there is a fan somewhere with a banner that, echoing the words of the MasterCard advert, ends with the phrase "for everything else, there’s George and Tom".
It was not until the season after — the unedifying and very public spats with Benítez, the talks with Jürgen Klinsmann, the decision to take the club heavily into debt, the continuing fiasco over the stadium — that warmth turned to hostility of the type that the Glazer family faced on their early visits to Manchester United.
Outsiders mistake the antiAmerican sentiment on Merseyside as a misplaced sense of empathy with Benítez. They look at the purchases of Torres, Javier Mascherano, Robbie Keane, Glen Johnson and others and suggest that Benítez, having been backed to the hilt, has only himself to blame for Liverpool’s failure to win a first league title since 1990. That is a different argument and a spurious one; whatever Benítez’s perceived faults — and his judgment in the transfer market last summer, albeit faced with a constrained budget, was highly questionable — he is far from being Liverpool’s weakest link.
Hicks and Gillett have made some good appointments in the commercial and financial sphere, helping to drive up the club’s revenue, but none of that counts for a bean when Liverpool were forced to pay £36.5 million in interest last season (and, at best, a similar figure this campaign). Ivan Gazidis, the Arsenal chief executive, said in an interview with The Times last week that "not all debt is bad", pointing out how the club’s interest bills are more than covered by the revenue generated by the move to the Emirates Stadium. Liverpool’s debt, by contrast, is very bad, existing for no other reason than to prop up a regime that, in every other sense, ran out of credit long ago.
Gillett took the unusual step of telephoning me the last time I criticised him and Hicks, telling me I had "got it all wrong" and that "debt per dollar, we are in a far better position than our rivals". His response was certainly more polite and more reasoned than that from Hicks Jr in the early hours of Saturday, but my deep reservations were not overcome. It is not a case of saying that Gillett or Hicks or their sons are bad people. It is simply the case that, between them, they have repeatedly shown themselves to lack the qualities needed to be worthy owners of Liverpool Football Club.
In February 2007 — the day he said that "the shovel needs to be in the ground within 60 days" with regards to the construction of a new stadium, where two years, 11 months and four days on, no shovel has yet been seen — Gillett said that "this isn’t about making money. This is about winning and passion and tradition".
Yet passion has been directed in all the wrong areas, traditions have been ignored, the aforementioned lustre has been tarnished and the widespread belief persists that they would be as willing as ever to sell up if they could be guaranteed a huge enough profit to show for all their hard work and dedication to the Liverpool cause.
That will be the final insult, when they depart — whether it is in six weeks, six months or six years — with a profit to their name. Hicks Jr’s e-mail in the early hours of Saturday was merely the latest, but, with those ten words, he plumbed new depths. Next time he is passing The Sandon, he would be advised to keep walking.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
We are the Sons of Shankly . . .
Yesterday marked the 50th anniversary of the day when Bill Shankly took charge @ Anfield. The media has, by & large, used this occasion to highlight how far we have fallen since the great man left the Boot Room.
Saying how Shanks would have been ashamed at Rafa's team. How the current squad would have horrified the great man.
Well, fook that. Let us honour his memory & stand behind our team. If anything would disgust Shanks would be 'fans' turning on their own kind. Rafa & his team may NOT be the greatest but they're still LFC & we are duty bound to support them.
Thank you Mr Shankly fer building this great institution that has given us so much joy. Forever remembered . . .
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Naming & fooking shaming . . .
The video above is dedicated to:
Me boss at work, Mr Terence Chong Wai Meng, who on Friday, said, "Really feel sorry for you this Sunday. I can imagine next season onwards only way United will meet Liverpool is in the League or FA Cups as ye'll be a championship side by then . . ."
And . . .
to Mr Mac Sivanesan, publisher of Campusplus magazine, who also on Friday, said, "Liverpool gonna kena tendang this weekend." This coming from a self-proclaimed man yew "fan" who doesn't watch games "coz its boring winning all the time".
Am sorry, me usually prefers to keep a dignified silence on such matters but couldn't help no more. However, honourable mention must be made to gentlemen fans such as Mr Ciaq & Mr Amrit who sent a simple 'well played, well done' sms.
Now, if only the more mancs were like the latter instead of the former, they would be a lot less hated, don't you think?
ps: This vid has been parodied no end & one version (previously also posted here) has Mein Fuhrer talking about Malaysian elections!
pps: To read how Fergie's has got the laws of the game wrong, please see: http://www.guardian.co.uk/football/2009/oct/26/alex-ferguson-referees-manchester-united .
ppps: Great t-shirt design here:
Monday, September 21, 2009
Fook this fer a fooking laugh . . .
Am sorry, but me Raya hols was utterly ruined by yet another fiasco at the Theatre of Shite. Just where the ref found four fooking minutes of extra time was one thing but to continue play until The Scum scored in the fifth minute of injury time in the Manchester derby was yet another nail in the coffin fer fair play.
In the last home game, Fergie gets to rant & rave at refs & never gets punished. Wenger kicks an empty water bottle in the heat of the moment & gets banished to the stands.
Add this to the Roy Carroll affair, the pen against Spurs last season, the sending offs of Sami Hyppia & Masch in seperate occassions, & it should be crystal fooking clear that almost nobody will ever get a decent result there.
The dubious list goes on.
Am utterly disgusted. Might as well just hand them the league title now as it seems that the powers-that-be have already decided its destination. Fooking shite like this is fooking strangling the life out of the game we all love & cherish . . .
In the last home game, Fergie gets to rant & rave at refs & never gets punished. Wenger kicks an empty water bottle in the heat of the moment & gets banished to the stands.
Add this to the Roy Carroll affair, the pen against Spurs last season, the sending offs of Sami Hyppia & Masch in seperate occassions, & it should be crystal fooking clear that almost nobody will ever get a decent result there.
The dubious list goes on.
Am utterly disgusted. Might as well just hand them the league title now as it seems that the powers-that-be have already decided its destination. Fooking shite like this is fooking strangling the life out of the game we all love & cherish . . .
Monday, August 17, 2009
The Agony of Defeat
Wot can me say?
Gut instinct told me this was gonna be yet another false dawn as hyperbole & fan expectation reaches fever pitch only to be met with glorious underachievement.
And last nite's tepid performance against the spurs underlined that. Lacklustre, devoid of ideas and quite simply one-dimensional, me beloved LFC were just shite.
To be honest, Spurs didn't really have to over-exert themselves to claim all three points.
Pedestrian? Fook, our footie is so fooking predictable that the lame pundits on Footie Focus got it spot on . . . All four of em predicted a 2-1 reverse fer us. How fooking sad is that?
Gut instinct told me this was gonna be yet another false dawn as hyperbole & fan expectation reaches fever pitch only to be met with glorious underachievement.
And last nite's tepid performance against the spurs underlined that. Lacklustre, devoid of ideas and quite simply one-dimensional, me beloved LFC were just shite.
To be honest, Spurs didn't really have to over-exert themselves to claim all three points.
Pedestrian? Fook, our footie is so fooking predictable that the lame pundits on Footie Focus got it spot on . . . All four of em predicted a 2-1 reverse fer us. How fooking sad is that?
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