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Older postsTears, fears and unadulterated joy. Football, bloody hell
city, premier league, rebuilding, squad, title, united
I love football. I love how it makes me feel. I love United, however they make me feel. I’ll love United winning the league, I’ll love United relegated, I’ll love United however and wherever they’re playing. But, sometimes, it hurts.
Losing to City last night was harder than losing the home game 6-1. This game actually mattered, and I wanted us to win desperately. We all did. But we didn’t. Do I still think we’ll win the league? Of course. I’m now assuming we will go out and batter Swansea and Sunderland and catch up the goal difference that separates City from us at the top of the league. A lot of people probably think that makes me stupid, naïve, spoilt or it just means I don’t know anything about football. I would respectfully disagree with all of the above. I always think we will win the league, always. When we were trailing City and we couldn’t make up points when they were dropping points, I thought we would win the league. When the goals difference looked painfully large and impossible to make up, I thought we would win the league. Why? Because the one thing football, however much it changes, cannot take away from me is the hope, faith and pride my team brings out in me.
footballsexrocknroll
Comments (0)The pains of being beautiful
jealousy, samantha brick, women
I don’t generally read the Daily Mail or anything posted on their website, however as my Facebook and Twitter feeds were spammed with an article written by someone called Samantha Brick (whom I up until this morning had no idea who was), I decided to have a look at the article. With the headline: “’There are downsides to looking this pretty’: Why women hate me for being beautiful”, I’ll be honest I was expecting a rather breath-taking beauty, and without being a bitch, this lady is not such a creature, being simply an ordinary woman (and there’s nothing wrong with that).
footballsexrocknroll
Happy International Women’s Day
equal rights, international women's day
Now I’m not a feminist, at least not what is (even) modern society’s description of a feminist. Whilst I’m an avid believer in women having equal rights to men, what with being a woman and all, I’m not single, barren and refusing to shave my armpits, and anyone who’s ever bought a bra would know they’re too expensive to be burning. None of which are requirements to be a feminist, but it is a way for men to paint feminist to make them out to be a special breed, rather than your completely normal, lives next door woman. Some women make feminists out to be even worse than men do. And I suspect both these women as well as men expect all feminists to be lesbians and men haters.
footballsexrocknroll
Here a cheat, there a cheat, every where a cheat cheat
The one thing that has always fascinated me when it comes to relationships is just how little it takes for people to throw it all away. Now anyone who has read my blogs for any period of time knows my views on monogamy and how unrealistic I find the concept in a lot of cases. However, and this is a rather big however, I have not, do not and never will cheat. There have been occasions in the past where I have been sexually involved with someone who has been in a relationship, and I freely admit that this may make me seem slightly hypocritical, however I am not responsible for the actions of others, nor do I put it upon myself to be someone else’s moral compass. Is it something I would do again should I ever find myself single again? No, probably not, I’m too old for any drama that may come from it. Do I think I was in the wrong for the occasions when I did do it? No. When it comes down to it, as a single person you’re only responsible for yourself, the person in the relationship is the one who is doing something wrong. The only reason why single people get treated with such distain when they have a sexual relationship with someone who is in a relationship is because the wronged party find it much easier to get angry at someone they don’t have a direct relationship with than someone they love. It gives you somewhere to place your anger whilst still justifying continuing a relationship with a man/woman that you do not trust and who has so little respect for you they would sleep with someone else.
footballsexrocknroll
The trials and tribulations of a modern footballer
evra, kick it out, racism in football, Suarez
It’s a tough life being a modern footballer. Not knowing where to spend your money, thinking you can do what (or who) you want and expect no one to ever know, wanting more and more money, even when you’re not playing well. It certainly sounds awful. The thing about modern football is, it’s really not that modern.
footballsexrocknroll
Harry for England, as long as we can get him back
England manager, Harry Redknapp, Spurs
This is the first (published) guest blog on Football, Sex and Rock’n'Roll. It’s been written by a Spurs fan, and you can find him on twitter here: @Harkin_13
At a time when England fans are on the whole disenchanted with international football, the stage is set for the triffic one to ride out of court on his bulldog and lead England to an epic victory in Euro 2012 (Well, at least that’s how it goes in my head).
footballsexrocknroll
His dad sells coke, his mum steals tea and he cries when losing his captaincy
anton ferdinand, england captaincy, John Terry
I dislike John Terry. Actually, as a matter of fact, dislike doesn’t quite seem to cover it. I’ve never been a great fan of him as a footballer; his defensive abilities have always left a lot to be desired. I’m even less of a fan of him as a person, but I’ll get back to that in a bit. However, he is English, and has had two stints as England captain, and so it follows that he must be the greatest English defender to have ever graced a footballing pitch.
footballsexrocknroll
The FA Cup, Liverpool and one goal wins
Fa Cup, liverpool, manchester united
I very rarely write match previews or reactions. Or to be more specific, my versions of these, neither of which preview much of anything nor include much of a reaction, and rather ends up in a lengthy rant, positive or negative. I hate playing Liverpool. I’ve only ever written one thing ahead of a playing Liverpool, and that even included a United version of The Lord’s Prayer, which if I say so myself was pretty damn brilliant (it was in fact ludicrously poor, and looking back at it makes me cringe rather a lot. Especially after the result). Unfortunately we lost. And it hurt. So I felt rather inclined to ignore Liverpool games both pre and at times post matches from then on.
The draw itself, the fact that we were to play Liverpool in this round of the FA Cup, hardly came as a surprise, in fact anyone who’s spent any time on Twitter would have seen someone predict, or have predicted themselves, that that’s the way the draw would go. Not that I am in any way, shape or form accusing the FA of being tricksters. At all. Just because an association is made up of and ran by (mainly) greedy, dodgy, self-gratifying, small penised individuals does not mean they would stoop so low as to cheat. Or at least I don’t think they have the intelligence to do so to such an extent, on a live TV draw and get away with it (which is why they probably paid someone else to come up with the specifics for the scam).
I’d love to win today, of course I would. Just as I want to win every single game we play. I absolutely adore the FA Cup, and the fact that we haven’t won it since that walk in the park against Millwall in 2004 hurts me more than an English tourist in Thailand getting a surprise when the prostitute drops her pants (remember, the nicer the legs, the more likely it’s a man). However I’ve been trying to put things into perspective. Maybe it’s my way of attempting to avoid possible disappointment by filling my head with the more desirable outcomes of the season. I’d much rather win the league, and stop the Poznan dancing Munich chanters from getting the trophy that always means more than anything else. If given the choice right now at this moment on whether I would want to win today, or lift the league in May, the choice is pretty simple. And so I’m trying to convince myself that today doesn’t really matter that much. And if we lose, it really won’t matter that much. Only problem is, as kick-off draws nearer, I know how completely wrong I am.
Don’t get me wrong; winning the league, that’s what matters. But I want to win today. I don’t want to go out of the cup that I adore against a team that I despise. I want to trash them. The realist in me however struggles to see how a trashing is possible, taking into account injuries etc., so it would happily settle for a 1-0 win. After all, it’s not the first time that a one goal win in a match that we really didn’t impress in ended up giving us some happy, long term memories.
What. A. Goal.
Sil, x
footballsexrocknroll
New Year, New You?
It’s that time of the year again, the first of January. The first day of a brand spanking New Year, clean sheet and a chance to start again. Except, it’s really not. I don’t know what it is about the New Year that makes people think they will suddenly turn into super healthy, super talented, super rich and super loved up happy individuals, whatever state their health, careers, bank accounts and love lives were the very night before.
There’s no such thing as a quick fix for anything in life, and there’s no such thing as one day, whichever the date, suddenly providing a new willpower as by magic to do something that for the last however many years you just couldn’t be bothered to do. The only difference is the amount of self-help books on sale in January, kidding you into thinking that if you read their book you can have everything you ever wanted in life. Not to mention everyone around you telling you that they’ve quit smoking, started online dating or searching for a new job and it’ll all turn out great because it’s the first of January and that means that it just has to happen. Doesn’t it?
Of course the likelihood of you spending the first few hours of the brand new year throwing out the full fat ice cream, copious amounts of wine bottles and cigarettes, going for a jog and signing up to LetsTakeYourMoneySoYouCanFindASoulmateThatProbablyLivesWithTheirMother.com are slim to none. Unless New Year’s Eve was spent either alone or getting completely and utterly shut down by that hottie from the office that you’ve fancied for ages and it’s made you desperate to change who you are because you think it’s all caused by your nasty smoking habit or the fact that you’re packing one or two extra pounds after the Christmas period.
People don’t generally react well to a rapid change in life style. It takes determination, will power and the lacking of a New Year hangover to get kick started on a way to find a brand new you. The thing is, because you’re continually sold the notion that the New Year is when you can start again by magazines, self-help gurus and your aunt who swore giving up smoking on New Year’s Day 15 years ago was the easiest thing ever (then she goes on to have a lengthy speech on how disgusting smoking is, as all ex-smokers do), you all come to believe that it’s the thing to do. Only one problem of course, if you make a resolution to do something that for 364 days of the year you have no interest in doing, there’s a very low probability that you will go through with it. And those of you who do? You’re basically flukes, and are easily influenced subconsciously. And if you read this, and just for a moment start to believe that the first of January really does not have any say whatsoever in becoming a “better” person, you’ll at least consider going hunting for that emergency pack of cigarettes that you “forgot” to throw out earlier.
When it comes down to it, there is no easy way to change. If you want to change something in your life, do it, but don’t become one of those dreadfully tedious people who want to tell the world two weeks from now that you quit smoking, started dieting or posted a heavily photo shopped picture of yourself onto an online dating site. Because in two months from now, chances are you’re back to smoking twenty a day, having that naughty chocolate brownie at lunch time and shagging that ex-boyfriend that you really shouldn’t even be speaking to anymore. In fact, you’re probably going to be doing whatever you promised yourself not to do anymore twice as much as you did before (so I really hope your ex-boyfriend is at least one hell of a fuck if that’s how little self-respect you have). Give it a couple of weeks, then, if there are still things you feel you need to change about yourself, to make YOU happy, then go for it. But do it because it’s what you want, not because everyone else is continually telling you that the person you are is simply not good enough. Keeping in mind, of course, that the people telling you via magazines, books, e-mail and text that you shouldn’t do whatever you’re doing are most likely ageing, alcoholic chain-smokers and twice divorced at the tender age of 35.
Sil, x
footballsexrocknroll
Would you shake Blatter’s hand?
FIFA President, Racism, sepp blatter
Say you’re walking down the street and someone walks up to you and says “Fuck off you white/black/yellow/red/smurf cunt.” Would you turn around, shake their hand and walk away thinking that the altercation had been put to rest and you were “cool” with each other? No? Then I guess you’re not Sepp Blatter.
footballsexrocknroll
