Football

David Beckham and I

…have a lot in common.

I was interested to read that David Beckham suffers from OCD and simply can not abide an odd number of lines cans of coke in his fridge

I have a similar obsession about cans of Grolsch in my fridge. 0, 2, 4, 8 but never 1, 3, 5, 6 or 7. If we ever get an odd number, I simply drink ’em scold the offenders soundly and banish them to the cupboard (where odd numbers only are allowed).

blankety blank competition

Lee Trundle’s smile after Swansea’s victory (in the Sunday Pub League Final played at, of all places, Cardiff) couldn’t be any wider without fracturing his jaw. But what I love about this story most is the following statement by Swansea FC’s chairman, Huw Jenkins:

‘Maybe it was a heat-of-the-moment thing’

Possibly, but given Lee Trundle had gone to the trouble of getting a T-shirt printed with a cartoon depicting a person urinating over a Cardiff shirt, that seems a little unlikely.

passion(less)

I just watched Arsenal beat Juventus 2-0 in the Champions League. I don’t support Arsenal. I don’t really care whether they win or lose. I only watched the game to kill two hours on a slow Tuesday evening in Newcastle.

In March last year, however, I was also working away from home in Gothenburg (near Sweden), watching a different game I passionately cared about.

Here is the barstool correspondent’s verdict on Inter Milan 1 MUFC 0.

absolute disgrace

Djibril Cisse (tattooed neck, ridiculous shaved head) celebrating his superb, individual, match winning goal (err, well, a converted penalty) in front of the Gallowgate End at St James Park by removing his shirt to remove a grubby white vest declaring his undying love for his wife, his cat, God, Robbie Fowler, his late gerbil and dearly departed Lady Diana, Queen of Our Hearts.

After all, I mean, his last goal was last year (28 December 2005) so that vest must absolutely stink.

Ciddy getting giddy

13. Years since Manchester City reached the quarter finals of the FA Cup.

30. Years since Manchester City last won a trophy.

The best football banner in the world was very simple and understated - just two large digits at the Stretford End. The number was incremented on or around 28th February each year.

The banner is no longer at Old Trafford (following the Glazer takeover) but can still be seen at FCUM matches apparently. Easier to get tickets too.

from hero to zero

Some football fans change allegiance and cheer on other British clubs in Europe. I don’t. Good bye, for another season, to the translator.

Gary Neville - no apology whatsoever

The Mayor of Liverpool announced that there would a extraordinary 5 minute silence held across the city tomorrow at 12 noon.

A special religious service will be held at the Anglican Cathedral and the two remaining Beatles will reunite and record a special version of ‘(Please) Let It Be (disallowed)’.

Robbie Fowler will indicate the start and end of the silence by holding up five fingers. This is the number of European Cups that Robbie Fowler has watched Liverpool win on TV.

a brush with West Midlands constabulary

I am fortunate that my job takes me to lots of exotic locations (Prague, Bergen, Amsterdam, Munich, Oslo, Nice, Paris) and now, err, West Bromwich.

The last time I was here was in October 1981 when I attended a game at The Hawthorns between West Bromwich Albion and Manchester United. The game got underway and the United fans started a chant:

Oh I do like to be beside the seaside Oh I do like to be beside the sea

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End of an era ?

The Glazer takeover was not the end of an era. Manchester United is a PLC not a football club.

The departure of Roy Keane was not the end of an era. Players (even great ones) come and players go.

The death of George Best was not the end of an era. Death and taxes.

However, last night’s 2-1 defeat to Benfica in Lisbon just might be.

so farewell then, George Best

Not a brilliant week if you are a United fan…

A few years ago, I was drinking in the Chelsea Potter on the Kings Road and a mate said ‘That’s George Best sitting over there’. I replied ‘Yeah, right’. I looked across to the bar and saw a plump, bearded figure sitting on a barstool, clad in a hideous blue shell-suit, sipping a Coke. I was stupefied. After a while, he finished his drink and left. I was still gawping at him like a lovestruck teenager and I swore he smiled at me on his way out.