Last night I was very busy getting old, so missed watching Chelsea tumble out of the Champions League. This is, in fact, considerably funnier than it might appear at first glance.
Getting old is very sobering, and one side effect can be looking back over one’s life. Never have been a prolific reader, so no surprise I didn’t finish my first book until I was about twelve. The Kon Tiki Expedition. Second book, Muhammad Ali: My Own Story, in which he talks about style. Style in whatever you do, and how, had he not been a boxer but rather a garbage man, he would have collected more than anyone else, and faster, and with more style.
There is a cost to your actions.
Another piece of advice in my youth came from a friend of my father’s at about the same time: “no matter what you do in life remember this. In ten or twenty years you will find yourself meeting up with old chums, and you CANNOT tell them you make handbags”. No idea why he chose handbags, but perhaps for the very reason that I never forgot the advice.
This brings me nicely on to Chelsea and that loathsome reptile Jose Mourinho.
As usual this morning, I got up, made coffee, and while I checked through emails, I caught up on late comments from this site. Last night was dominated by talk of the appalling tactics deployed by a “win at any cost” Chelsea.
When it comes to my football, I am a romantic and a fantasist. Somewhere deep within there is a realist who understands that The Arsenal need things like defenders, but I don’t like it, and yes, 2-3-5 remains my preferred line up.
Here’s the thing though. I know people who avoid certain summer as well as winter holiday resorts simply to avoid the Chelsea style of wealthy thugs. I know people who have given up memberships of what were once exclusive London nightclubs to avoid the thugs in the blacked out Range Rovers with their “security”. I even know a lifelong Chelsea supporter who chucked in his season ticket and now goes to watch Brentford.
When I was a young school boy, a teacher told me cheating was only “cheating yourself”. Not really, I thought, I just got an A in Chemistry.
With hindsight, was the teacher right? Well, one moral must be, if you are going to cheat, then for God’s sake win. Doing it and losing is nothing short of hysterically funny for your critics.
Written by MickyDidIt89