Wednesday, 14 June 2017
Having been a most times abstainer from football I feel a bit hypocritical admitting that I watched the England France game last night.
Ok, football is a fine spectator sport, and, although I wouldn't describe myself as ultra jingoistic I do take some interest when an England game is afoot, unless there is something more compelling ( I recorded Cardiff Singer of the World to revel in after the sun had gone down).
My objections are directed at the endless cheating, diving, pansy faked pain and injury, and arguing with the referee, to say nothing of the obscene amounts of money involved.
There was one French guy who went down three times last night, and to see his acting combined with lengthy sessions with medics on the field you would have thought he'd broken his leg in three places, but miraculously he was up and running again after engineering these stoppages to the game and supposedly trying to convince the referee that a penalty should be awarded and his opponent sent off.
All that is pretty run-othe-mill stuff, but what prompted me to write this post arose from one of the commentators:
"It was a good foul, he didn't get booked"
I messaged my daughter who is a secondary school head of English with responsibility for, amongst other things, the instilling of good behaviour, firm moral values and potentially responsible citizenship in her school-kids. Her reply, "what hope?"
Why do a large proportion of football managers...
chew gum disgustingly?
Look permanently miserable, even forcing themselves to refrain from at least smiling when there is good cause?
I can understand those traits in a particular individual, but they mostly seem to follow the herd.
A refreshing exception -Jürgen Klopp