Nuns Eat Your Heart Out

How do you solve a problem like Ronaldo?
How do you stop the prat from falling down?
How do you solve a problem like Ronaldo?
A hell of a strike
Great feet on the ball
And then he's down.

Sound of Music nuns eat your heart out.

Pop Goes The Fergie

I'm meeting up with Junior Goonier and some of his mates in a little while.

I'm off to the pub with them to watch The Arse cane The ManUre.

I hope.

I must say I do have a sense of excitement and anticipation.

And I've loved the build up, with Wenger and Ferguson doing respectful humble on the surface, whilst busy playing headgames in the background.

That's how managerial combat should be undertaken.

Let's just hope the balloon goes up for Fergie tonight though eh!

Or better still - pop!

It Could Have Been Much Worse

Ive just got home having missed what I understand was a compelling game.

In the words of my lover "Chel$ea played resolutely against an exciting and inventive team, managed by a very beautiful man".

Yum yum.

So what was I doing that was more important than watching this piece of football magic?

I was taking part in a charity quiz.

We weren't very good to be honest.

It could have been much worse though.

If I hadn't known that the football teamed bought by Mohamed Al Fayed was Fulham and that Wayne Rooney went to the ManUre from Everton.

Oh and that Po is the smallest Telly Tubby.

It's The Voices In My Head

I'm going to tell you something now which at first you might think I am making up for effect or because I can't think of anything to post about.

On a day when football news includes the awarding of player of the year by the PFA to Ryan Giggs, when Newcastle are in action and I predict Shearer wearing some ghastly suit on the touchline and Southampton are on the verge of extinction, the latter hardly rings true.

All I can say is cross my heart hope to die if I am making this up.

I am hearing voices in my head.

Now I know we all have an inner voice that talks to us and that is normal but I am talking about something different.

I am talking about lots of voices all together, chanting the same thing.

For example, my lover is in the middle of a text correspondence with my father in a battle of wits.

Georgina: Has he text you back yet?
My Lover: No
Georgina's Head: It's all gone quiet, all gone quiet, all gone quiet over there.

See what I mean?

Or what about last week when Anthea Turner got thrown out of Hell's Kitchen?

Georgina's Head: Going down, going down, going down

The worst it's got was last week as I was listening to the budget.

Georgina's Head: You don't know what you're doing.

I just hope I don't accidentally shout one of these out loud one day.

Sense Of Responsiblity

It is 5.20pm on Sunday evening.

I am just getting ready to set off to pick my lover up from Luton Airport.

No doubt he will have lots of stories to tell.

But then so will I.

He has been pretty cut off from football so it will be my responsibility to brief him on all the latest events.

He's lucky to have me isn't he?

Claws Out

And they say girl's are bitchy!

Long Face

I'm a bit miserable.

I was planning to go up to The Walkers on Friday with Junior Goonier. We are playing Scunthorpe and will presented with the League One Cup as well as the new kit being unveiled.

Sadly some other people had the same idea though and there are no tickets left.

The other thing I'm feeling a bit down about is the thought of the season coming to an end. I know there is drama yet to come but once that is over there is the depressing thought of a summer ahead without an English football.

Just one chink of light has entered this darkness.

The return of a certain now beardless former Sunderland Manager.

Raagghh!

Sssshhh Don't Mention It

I don't know if I mentioned it but my lover is away this week.

He has gone to Spain.

Yes I know, hard to believe he could contemplate being away from the lovely Georgina, but there you go.

Of course it does mean that there was no-one there to mop his tears last night as Liverpool failed to secure a much needed win.

Poor lamb!

Best not to mention a certain Russian phenomenon.

Not For Me

Howard Webb to referee the FA Cup final?

I wonder who was on that selection committee.

Not this Frenchman I suspect.

A National Scandle

On Talk Sport today they were asking for people to text in with one word to describe the Wembley pitch.

If I had text in I would have said "scandalous".

It seems to me that somehow the whole rebuilding of Wembley project lost sight of its fundamental purpose.

To build a world class stage on which to perform acts of magic that make history.

Would you build one of the world's largest theatres and put in a make shift stage?

Would you build a huge and beautiful art gallery and put beautiful paintings in rubbish frames?

So why build a great stadium in a place most of the potential audience cannot easily reach, and with a pitch that undermines the skill and talent of those who play on it. Not to mention the danger it presents to those players.

It's a national scandal.

L'Amour - C'est Bon

I love Arsene Wenger.

Want to know why?

A few years ago I had a difficult work experience. Following that I made a resolution that if ever I was in a leadership position, I would seek to get the best out of people through encouragement, coaching, kindness and expressed belief.

It is a philosophy I try to apply in my work.

And it is also something I admire in others

Yes Wenger (or Arsene as his 'buddy' Sir Alex has taken to calling him!), might irritate me sometime when he denies any wrong doing by his players.

But his approach to motivating his players is just what I would endorse.

It can lead to discipline problems if not carefully managed but Wenger has shown the ability to act decisively when he needs to, as in the case of Gallas earlier in the season.

So like I say, I love Arsene Wenger.

Bring It On

We love you Leicester we do
We love you Leicester we do
We love you Leicester we do
Oh Leicester we love you

We're going up
We're going up
Leicester's going up

I'm loving those boys in blue and white.

Thanks to Latic for sharing my joy.

Bring on the Championship.

Duel Of Dishonour

You would think that at this time of the season Premiership managers would want to focus all their efforts on the final run in.

I mean it's not as if any team is running off with the title. It's still very tight and could go to the wire.

So no time for distractions then.

Such as errant goalkeepers.

Or a bit of in fighting with your colleague managers.

Unless of course you are a Knight of the Realm and can't resist a good duel.

Girls Doing Football

I have been reminded once again today of the value of football to so many aspects of life.

I went to meet two women from another organisation. We had a great discussion about our work and how we might find ways to work more closely together.

And then we got onto football.

I can't quite remember how it started. Maybe it was triggered by my Leicester City lanyard holding my ID badge.

Anyway we were right into it within moments. We talked about Tuesday's battle and what a great match it was. We talked about how one of them is a neutral and just likes to watch football, although she supports England. A self-confessed 'occasion' seeker.

We talked about how I came to support Leicester. And go up to the Walkers sometimes.

So you see - girls definitely can do football.

Some People Are Never Satisfied

You are probably wondering what became of my lover following yesterday's encounter.

Of course he was disappointed.

But he talked about his pride in the heart and courage shown by the Liverpool boys.

It was quite a match wasn't it?

As we said to each other, "You couldn't make it up".

So when I listened in to Talk Sport today I expected everyone to be buzzing with it.

And they were to some extent.

Until I tuned into Durham and Wrighty. Durham was expounding the view that the abiding feature of the match was the number of defensive mistakes.

Oh and that there were too many goals. He got bored.

I mean what?

Some people are never satisfied.

Better To Have Loved And Lost

You could cut the atmosphere with a knife in my house at the moment.

It's half time.

Liverpool are an unbelievable 2 goals up - just one goal away from one of the biggest Great Escapes in footballing history.

My lover is trying to stay calm by stewing some fruit.

But I know inside he is in turmoil.

Would it be worse to make such a great comeback if it wasn't quite enough in the end?

You know what they say.

Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

Rite Of Passage

Rites of Passage are an important feature in most societies and cultures across the world.

It is the duty and the privilege of a parent to guide and support their child at such times.

For my son, Junior Goonier, today saw his journey from a sofa-based football fan to the world of the live game.

My 24 year old offspring went to his first stadium match.

And what better baptism than the Leicester/Leeds clash at the Walkers.

It was a nail-biting experience. The sense of expectation and excitement in the stadium before the match was palpable, augmented by the knowledge that a Foxes win and an MK Dons draw or loss later in the afternoon meant certain promotion.

Although the latter was not to be (I was a Bristol Rovers supporter for a few hours today), the fierce battle between the two teams was matched by passionate support from both sets of fans.

Simon Grayson's post match assessment that Leeds had been the dominant team and deserved the win was complete nonsense of course. But it was a great spectacle none the less with both teams playing football (as opposed to the hump it, lump it and hope we are sometimes treated to), and Leicester leaving it to the dying gasps of the game to score.

I can't describe the reaction in any way that does it justice, but suffice it to say the earth moved (the concrete felt like it was moving beneath our feet as everyone celebrated).

So my boy is a man.

And Georgina has a big smile on her face.

Although I have of course spared a thought for my friend Luton Andy and his team today.

A Devil Of A Battle

A number of church leaders across the country have criticised the playing of football matches on Easter Sunday.

According to one, Dr Sentamu, the former bishop of Birmingham, there is a "time and a place" for football which is not on Easter Sunday.

He added:"Do not think...22 people chasing a ball around is all life is about."

I'm not at all sure he is right though.

We go into battle against the devil tomorrow.

It doesn't get more biblical than that!

Smoke And Mirrors?

I know you know I don't rate Alan Shearer much. Other than as a footballer in his day.

And of course in football part of 'it' is having extreme opinions, which don't necessarily have to be based on much evidence.

But although I have real misgiving about Shearer's potential as a manager and believe his appointment is motivated by a political desire to appease the sentiment of Newcastle fans, I'm also a girl who believes in magic.

There are of course different sorts of magic.

There's magic made up of tricks. The use of smoke and mirrors to deceive the watcher.

And there is real magic.

So in the interests of fairness, I'm going to suspend belief and be prepared to consider that something magical might happen.

To that end I have decided to follow Mr Shearer's spells. To see if I can weave some of the magic into my own life.

My lover and I will be stepping up our social life over the next few weeks in order to maintain a high level of communal eating. We will be in by 9.30pm at night. And we are going to work very hard.

Oh and of course, we have kitted out our chest freezer with the odd cushion to offer a bit of comfort to our evening routine.

In The Zone

This is post number 700.

700 moments of reflection on the world of football.

700 steps towards learning about football.

700 lessons to bring me to the point where I consider one of football's most profound questions.

Which is better - the more traditional man marking or, as favoured by Rafa amongst others, zonal marking?

With my usual vim and vigour I have been investigating this vexatious issue.

Apparently one of the main problems with zonal marking is that it relies upon collective responsibility. As The Independent explained in a recent article;

"Once upon a time, there were four Liverpool defenders: Everybody, Somebody, Nobody and Anybody. Whenever Branislav Ivanovic needed to be marked Everybody was sure that Somebody would do it. Anybody could have done it, but Nobody did it. When Nobody did it, Everybody, and Pepe Reina, got angry because it was Everybody's job. Everybody thought that Somebody would do it, but nobody realised that Nobody would do it.So consequently Everybody blamed Somebody when Nobody did what Anybody could have done in the first place. And then, from another corner, it all happened again".

On the other hand, as described by a contributor to a discussion thread I read , man marking appears to require a degree of telepathy and having eyes in the back of your head;

"The man-marking defender has to watch the ball and the attacker as well as his own nearby team-mates (who may contest the same ball) and other attackers who may have lost their own marker (a regular occurrence, leading to the 'free' headers - something that should never happen with the zonal system) and on top of that he has to try to second guess the attacker's run (meanwhile, of course, the attacker is jinking everywhere to put you off the scent)."

So to summarise, if you are going to adopt a man marking system, you need to be able to do this (should be a steal for Sheffield Wednesday players).

And if a zonal marking system, this is more the order of the day.

So now you know.

Sing When You're Winning

What is the difference between a ManUre fan and a Liverpool fan?

ManUre fans only sing when they are winning and leave early if they are not.

Judging by yesterday's performance anyway.

Whereas Liverpool fans sing all the way through. No matter what.

Although I have to say my lover is not singing here tonight.

In fact he's very quiet...............

Catharsis

Leeds United.

The bad penny of the football world.

Always turning up.

First there was the trip to our local cinema last Friday (luxury seats of course) to see the film.

Which I would thoroughly recommend by the way.

Then today I discovered that a new employee where I work is a Leeds United fan.

Aaaggghhh!

I can only hope that when I go to see my boys play them at The Walkers on Monday with my lover and Junior Goonier, I have some sort of cathartic experience.

Beating them 2 or 3 nil would do it.

Ciao Macheda

Not bad for your premier outing with the first team.

Scoring the winning goal in a match that will probably turn out to be pivotal in the final Prem positions.

And only 17.

Amazing.

I have little doubt that April 5th 2009 was the day the life of 'Kiko' Macheda changed forever.

Hats Off To The Boys

Luton Andy is a happy man this afternoon.

After all the trials and tribulations his team has endured this season, the Hatters fans have got something to celebrate at last.

I managed to track Luton Andy down shortly after their victory in the Johnstone Paint Trophy final today.

Georgina: How are you feeling?

Luton Andy: Very emulsional. We knew it would not run on rollers and that we would need a few clever strokes. Because of our good preparation, we had the sprit to clean up. This has really put the gloss on our season.

No doubt he will be painting the town navy, white and orange tonight.

Pur Wee Lambs!

What a terrible situation.

Those poor Glasgow Rangers players.

So misunderstood.

Everyone knows that sign is Scottish for "Victory!".

Isn't it?

Nature Or Nurture?

The question on everyone's lips is - did he lose it or was he born without it?

It's a tricky one.

Could he have developed it or is it genetic?

The old nature vs nurture debate.

The mystery of just what happened to Alan Shearer's charisma may never be solved.

What is known is that he is careful to surround himself with others who suffer in a similar way in an effort to camouflage his shortcoming.

So lets pause to assess the situation.

No charisma. No direct managerial experience.

Still the fans seem happy.

Which leaves you wondering if they were born without any sense or if they lost it (sorry Mosher!)

Laugh? I Nearly Enjoyed Myself!

I've heard of some great April Fools pranks in my time.

But this has to be the best.