Thursday, May 5, 2011

All Gone Ron.

Yes, this is another blog about football. Don’t like football? Tough, it’s my blog. Why don’t you like football, what’s wrong with you?

But I’ll keep this brief, just for you haters.

If there’s one thing I hate it’s a sore loser and I know a thing or two about sore losing because when it comes to the world’s biggest, I’m right up there. Not that I demonstrate this in front of my girls mind you, my responsibility to them to be the best coach I can be is far more important than me getting my sulk on.

In almost nine years of coaching I’m proud to say I have lost my rag only the once and even then it was due to the ref being a deaf, dumb, blind man with no legs.

So it pisses me off when I see guys like Christiano Ronaldo start talking conspiracy theories and shit after being beaten across two games, fair and square, like Real Madrid were by Barcelona yesterday. In fact the game was the antithesis of anything resembling a conspiracy given that the referee flatly refused to send one of the Madrid boys off despite him fouling anybody that came within kicking distance.

Ronaldo is King of the Sulks. He’s also the second best and one of the most recognisable players in the world and he didn’t get to be either by packing a sad every time he lost.

Well. He probably did, because he’s that kind of guy, but it’s fair to say his talent, not his tanties that got him to where he is. So maybe he should just man up and take it on that magnificent waxed chest of his, or maybe, just maybe, work a bit harder during the game to really do something about it.

My chest, on the other hand, is neither magnificent nor tanned but even I can take a loss or two, except this past weekend when my beloved Spurs lost to Chelsea in controversial circumstances. I should have known that when the ref arrived dressed as a mime that things were going to get a bit tasty. Thus the Chavs won, not by one, but two incorrectly given goals.

Now I can accept a fuck up from a volunteer official. I see it almost every game my teams play but like I always say to my girls you just have to accept that the ref is just a guying living vicariously through his daughter and he’s going to be as biased as shit. You can’t change it; you just have to get on with it.

But you expect more of highly paid professionals that do it for a living. If we relax this expectation then let’s save everybody’s time and just have a series of 38 coin tosses at the start of the season and decide the champions that way. I for one would get a few more hours of sleep a season.

Sometimes I wonder if life would be easier if I just decided to follow one of those teams that seem to win everything, like Real Madrid.

Nah, fuck it. It’s all gone Ron for them anyway.

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