• Saturday, 28 May 2011

    Makelele, Claude

    French midfielder who got a nosebleed when approaching the halfway line. Would have retired from international football sooner than he did if Raymond Domenech would just have let him, the useless prick.
    So good, he became the definition of an entire position, i.e. that midfielder that sits in front of the back four, breaks things up and gives it easy. As in "Arsenal just haven't got anyone of sufficient quality in the Makelele area of the field".

    Sunday, 15 May 2011

    On sectarianism in Scottish football

    Two men enter a shop. Guns are on display all around in perspex cabinets. The windows have thick bars across them. One of the men approaches the counter.
    "Err... Cannae have a bullet pal?"
    "What? You want one bullet?"
    "Aye. How much?"
    "Well they tend to come in boxes of varying sizes, not singly. Anyway, what sort of gun is it for?"
    "Err.. One that gaes bang when you pull the whatsit. What sort d'you think? You some sort of numpty?"
    "No sir. What calibre?"
    "Ah, it's bloody great. Very high calibre indeed I'd have said. The very finest calibre known to man."
    "You don't own a gun at all, do you?"
    "Course I do. Why would I want a bullet if I havnae a gun?"
    "And why do you want just one bullet?"
    A pause.
    "Look, are you gonna gi' us one or no?"
    The shopkeeper reaches under the desk and switches off the cameras. He takes one 9mm bullet from a loose pack and places it on the counter.
    "Gi' us five quid, take that, fuck off and never come back in here again."

    A few doors down, the men enter a post office.
    "Can I have an envelope?"
    "Just one?"
    "Aye, how much?"
    "Well, what size sir?"
    "Jaysus. Don't you fucking start. I had enough trouble wi' the lad down the road. Just gi' us a fucking envelope eh?"
    "The smallest pack we do is twelve, standard letter size, for a quid sixty."
    "Aye, OK. Gi' us that.
    So, youse are some top post gadgie then eh?"
    "I suppose so, sir, yes."
    "And you know all the addresses round here?"
    "Well, they're all in that big book over there. What of it?"
    The man looks around, leans in conspiratorially.
    "Gi' us Neil Lennon's eh?"

    Tuesday, 10 May 2011

    Our culture, our history

    "Our culture,

    Our history".

    Coming over here

    With their dual nationalities,

    Playing our football,

    Winning our trophies.

    They'll never understand

    Our culture,

    Our history.




    Ca c'est votre culture,

    votre histoire,

    n'est pas?

    The nation of Camus,

    de Beauvoir and Sartre.

    Of Dac, Spaak, Borrel,

    Curie, Mandelbrot and Werner.

    Thuram, Fontaine, Zidane

    And, yes, Six, Giresse, Papin.

    "Our culture,

    Our history".

    His racism.

    France's shame.