Thursday 19 June 2014

THIS SPORTING LIFE.


THE THIEFA WORLD CUP

A TOURNAMENT 
AWARDED TO THIEVES BY THIEVES, 
COMPETED FOR BY TEAMS OF GANG-RAPING, 
COKE-SNORTING CELEBRITIES



The PBC's Team Brazilia,
three dummies and a questionmaster.
 And nation shall speak shite unto nation.


The trouble with these poor people, ordinary Brazilians, rioting and what not, is that they shouldn't mix politics with our money, I mean  our sport, don't you agree, panel?

Aye, yower not wrong there, Gary, me man. I mean all them lads is tryin' to do is do a good job fer their country, like I were when I kept falling doon, like, in't penalty box and pretendin' some cunt 'ad kicked me over, never worked, like, burawasdoinitfermecountry. An' the lads are doin' it  fer their country. And fer their own careers, too, like, you know, in advertising or sponsorship or even in foo'ball - an they're 'avin to contend wi' nig-nogs, like, - cos that's wot they are, lessbefair, no offence  to you two lads, yer almost 'onorary Englishmen, after all, Rio and Thierry - disruptin' things and rioting, like, just because they got no 'ouses or jobs or 'ealthcare while their govament is spending billions on footy fer rich folks to watch.  I mean, they got no sense a proportion, 'ave they?  I mean, I allus say, Gary,  that ye canna trust a nation where 'alf the wimmen's got great big shiny cocks  between their legs, where there oughter be a Berkshire, can you? Ladymen, cannae abide them, me.  That Alan Hansen,
 allus had me doots aboot that one.....

That's right, Alan, poverty, neglect, exploitation and oppression, they  shouldn't be allowed to interfere with the heautiful game.  And as for the nig-nog street kiddies being hungry, well what's wrong with us sending them all a great big donation of out-of-date potato crisps, hasn't done me any harm.

What, eat 'em?  Fuck no, they're really bad for you, fat, starch, salt.  Top athletes, like m'self, we  don't get where we are by eating shit like this.  No,  but they're OK for the kids, course they are.  It's like anything, moderation's the word, probly no more than three or four bags a day.

And Rooney,  whaddawethink about Rooney, Thierry?

Eef 'e can play, 'e should play.  Eet may be on thee left. Or on thee other side. But 'e should play.  Mebbe 'e can score, maybe not. That ees thee thing.  Eef I was thee manager I would play 'im.  Or not play 'im.   
An' me,  Gary,  I would, an' all, I'd play him but I'd play 'im on the left, he's got great wotsaname, 'as Rooney,  'e's a reet bonny lad.  Or in the middle, I'd play him there, an' all.  He can score goals, can Rooney.  It's just that 'e doesn't.  That's the only problem wi' the team, like, 'sthat they dinna score any goals, not enough like, anyroad, not as many as the other fuckers.  And that's where I think the real proble lies, Gary.
Thanks, Alan Shearer, for that.  And while we're waiting for the next match, here's some football.       


8 comments:

Bungalow BIll said...

And so the sick parade passes away once more. Some Bach would be good at your leisure. I saw someone playing the Britten cello suites in a church on one of those BBC4 programmes recently and found it very moving, full of grief and guilt and entirely human. I have no idea why the terminal hideousness of the english football circus should make me think of music but there we are. Mr Best was some sort of musician too.

Oldrightie said...

Terminal hideousness. Bit likeThe MiddlecEast, really.

Bungalow Bill said...

Perhaps Mr Hodgson could be our new peace envoy and Mr Tony Maniac could take on the next World Cup which is in Russia. That would sort it all out for the best.

call me ishmael said...

Seems self-evident that if someone, especially a rags-to-riches football urchin, is paid fifty thousand pounds a day -two Aston Martins a week - they will swiftly become good for fuck all. It is true that other nations pay their top players equivalent amounts and they still manage to beat ours but the whole thing must prove unltimately corrosive of the sport.

The corporatising, the monetising of sport is almost complete, as well as football, tennis is the preserve of manic millionaires, Nadal, Federer and Jabberwocky have earned eighty million dollars apiece in prize money and probably tripled that in sponsorship, motor racing is in the greedy pockets of that wetched dwarf, wotsisname, Ecclestone, currently on trial for bribery; Hamilton and Co can't leave the house unless swaddled, like a Moslem woman, head to foot, in the sacred schmutter of Santander; snooker is played by Sinophile, jetsetting automata; I dunno about cricket but it seems to be people by moneygrubbing, laddish gabshites and the home football teams are corrupted and polluted by arseholes like Ferguson and Wenger and their respective owners, by Russian gangsters, sorry, investors.

What we watch now is not the sport, the joie de vivre of Best's period, it is organised crime, Tony Blair may as well be in there. John Reid, let us not forget, Lord Reid of Afghanistan, now chairs the ghastly, sectarian Glasgow Celtic FC. Amongst many other things.

Doug Shoulders said...

I didn’t hear about the Chelsea owner getting his assets frozen when the government announced that Russian businessmen were going to get it in the neck because of Putins’ referendum….sorry invasion of Crimea.
Funny that.
Was it not Scotland who pioneered the hypothetical mathematical improbability that would see them through to the next round?
Alan Hanson 1.4 million?...Fuck me sideways.

Anonymous said...

What pisses me off most about most modern players is the lack of grace. Best had it; so did the wonderful Cruyff (try tube-googling "best Cruyff goals" or some such formulation.) In the last couple of weeks, you could see it in Robin van Persie's header against Spain, but apart from that...

(I hope Chile fuck off all the rest and win it.)

verge//

call me ishmael said...

Aye, grace, they could neither spell nor comprehend it. Best, on scoring, would simply raise and wave his hand in quiet salute, none of this revolting, gangbanging manlove bollocks; no kneslides, demanding acclaim from equally braindead fans.

I saw that neadnerthal fuckpig, Shearer, when he was playing for England, he dived and writhed in the penalty area and the ref just looked at him like he was a piece of shit, which he is. Later, being pundited, he said, all hurt, the big fairy, Aye, Ah were just trying to do something fer me country, Ah done me best, like, but it never come off. As though his country expected him to cheat for it; revolting piece of shit. It was great hearing him berate some Johhny Foreigner, the other night, for doing the same thing. I wonder how much we are paying him for his commentary.

Alphons said...

I think it should really be known as "Sucker"