Quite possibly one of the best displays of football took place yesterday morning. Beautiful Barcelona played one of the best, yet gayest, teams in the world, Real Madrid, who just happen to be coached by one of the best in the business, Jose Mourinho, the self appointed ‘Special One’.
Barca demolished the pretty Madristas. Absolutely blitzed them. Made them look like part timers. Five nil once it was all over and 98,000 fans - yes that’s right; the stadium holds that many - went home to hit the piss deliriously happy.
Meanwhile, back in little ol NZ we followers of football made our way to work and cracked one under the desks as the goals keep rolling in via the live text updates on the world wide intraweb. The one thing we have to live for at moments of inappropriate arousal like this is that we’ll be able to catch the goals on the telly during the lunch time news.
Only today they had other priorities, like fucken cricket.
The Ashes to be exact, contested between two countries that aren’t even New Zealand! I know we’ve got a lot of Poms and Aussies here but fuck ‘em, Brisbane is three hours away by plane, if they want to catch the score they can piss off and go get it in person.
And why is some guy named Michael Hussey called ‘Mr Cricket’? Did he invent the game? I think not. It strikes me as one of those nicknames you give yourself to appear way cooler than you actually are. Mine was GreatBigHardCock.
Mind you, if you’ve been called ‘hussy’ all your life anything will do. Just ask my first shag; Tracey, from Waipawa.
So fuck you very much TV3. I’ve seen the game and the goals now but I shan’t be watching your lunch time news ever again which is okay by me because TV1 has a far sexier financial news presenter before the sports news anyway.
Barca vs.Madrid. Quite possibly the best football you’ll never see (unless you have Sky).
Five star Barca - better than a Hussey anyday.
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