Match That

So here we are again.

Another New Year's Eve.

This was me last year.

And the year before.

Sadly my mum has been unwell for the last couple of days and is in hospital with a nasty chest infection.

Poor soul.

She loves New Year's Eve too.

I am going to visit her shortly then home to a lovely meal cooked by My Lover.

We have chosen a quiet intimate evening.

An opportunity to reflect on the year that has past.

Some things didn't change of course.

Like Bolton fans' view of Megson for example.

Or the sacking of managers with almost yawn-making regularity.

There were trips to The Walkers.

Tales of love.

And of confusion.

Lesbian love.

The odd Vaseline rub.

Hypnotised lobsters and lickable bottoms.

All contributing to a year of sunshine and showers.

And the occasional assassination.

If 2010 can match that then bring it on!

Happy New Year!

Little Wood Guitar

Match of the Day, is what her indoors is playing on her guitar right now. In G C and F. At some point I predict she'll be putting dodgy video's on the Internet for your delectation.

And no, I lied, she's not back until her review of the year to be posted as the year turns over in about 36 hours.

She's been busy people. It's the holiday and so we've been doing this, (wished we had one of these).......... this and this.....oh and this too (oh.... for some of these)

And now it's time for the girl who is lovin' guitars to have some down time.

HL

Accept things simply

Is good advice dished out as luckshen in the latest offering from the Coen Brothers.

GB and me went to see the movie tonight at this groovy location.

Good advice to be taken seriously by this Liverpool Supporter.

It's an unfortunate truth, but the (long-suffering) Besty has heard me say, on more than one occasion recently, it has to get worse before it'll get better.

So, this recent result, only serves I believe, to prolong the inevitable demise of my team for a while.

Maybe it's time to start believing in Fairy Godmothers.


She'll be back tomorrow.

HL

Grant Me A Wish

A couple of days before Christmas Gooner Junior brought some wood over for us.

My Lover fed him mince pies.

As he was leaving, My Lover said to him "I think there is a very real possibility that The Arse may win the Premiership this season. I wish you luck mate."

"I can't believe you said that," I said after he had left.

"You hate The Arse".

"I know but he cares about them".

Sweet.

Deep down of course My Lover will be praying for a miracle to resuscitate his ailing Liverpool.

He might find a crumb of comfort in Martin O'Neill's assessment of their potential fortunes.

And hope there really are such things as fairy godmothers.

There's No H In Winger

Is performing a good throw-in a footballing skill or not?

My view is that it is.

As you know I am not a girl schooled in the art of actually playing the beautiful game, but it seems to me that the whole point is to be able to meet the various different challenges the game presents and that you do this by selecting a team with a variety of different but complimentary skills.

So if one of those challenges is to be able to throw in from the sideline after the ball has gone out of play then surely managers should be taking this into account when developing players and selecting teams.

I must, therefore, beg leave to differ with the Mighty Monsieur.

You and your team may have given my son the best 3 courses he had all Christmas today, but puuurleesss ..............

It would seem that after a playing career in defence, you now prefer the whinge.

Merry Christmas!

Have you had a nice Christmas so far?

I certainly have.

I hope you got everything you wished for.

My treasures have included a book signed by none other than Adrian Durham and a book of football quotes.

And whilst we are on the subject of Christmas, did you know that Father Christmas is an Aston Villa fan - apparently?

Fortunately he gets the day off today but will need to be back in action tomorrow when they visit The Emirates.

We, meantime, will be playing The Blades later, who are one place below us in the table.

Once again I will be operating stealth tactics to keep up with all today's action, only this year I have internet access via my phone.

Have a good one and may the best teams win!

Making It Up As You Go Along

It hasn't taken Mr Mancini long to start making an impression.

Is he telling the truth?

Or simply mischief making?

I was tempted to run off and do some research when he first entered the ring.

But something told me not to - to wait and see what happens.

I think it is much more exciting to watch what happens as it unfolds, rather than seeking to predict what might happen based on history.

Follow the narrative like a thrilling novel.

Yet knowing there is no author there to protect you from what might happen.

You have to be prepared for anything.

What do I think?

I think one of life greatest joys is making it up as you go along.

Bring it on!

Read All About It

How do you decide what is in the public interest to report in the media?

Where do you draw the line between public and private?

Can you?

Should you?

Let's imagine, for example, that a Premiership manager was seen entering a brothel, and exiting an hour later, subsequently admitting he had been with prostitutes.

Do we need to know that?

Is it just prurient curiosity?

Or is it behaviour that brings the game into disrepute?

Does it undermine your confidence in him as a man?

I guess we'll just have to watch and wait for this one to unravel.

Every Girl Should Have A Dehumidifier

I have not been completely focussed on football today.

I know that is shocking but I have a good excuse.

I have been decorating our utility room.

It has been bright yellow until now, with dark brown varnished doors.

Grim.

Anyway I set out to paint it all white and put in a new floor.

The plan was to complete the painting by the end of tomorrow and fit the floor after Christmas.

It started off OK. I did all the preparation yesterday and undercoated 2 of the 3 doors and door frames.

Up first thing to emulsion the walls.

Careful painting between a load of heating pipes with a little brush to get between and cover up the yellow behind.

Then a bigger brush to do the edges.

Then the fat old roller.

It is a holistic experience for me, painting.

In the sense that whatever I am wearing is usually as well decorated by the end of a session as the walls themselves, which was slightly unfortunate on this occasion as I nicked my lover's overalls because it was easier than going upstairs to get mine (I explained to him that I had so many layers of clothes on I couldn 't fit in to mine).

Anyway my deception caught up with me because after all my hard work it has all gone terribly wrong.

I started to get worried when the paint was not dry after 3 hours.

It got worse.

The utility room is an extension to the house, and could clearly have been better built.

Some insulation in the outside wall perhaps.

Which may have prevented the condensation that has now formed due to the cold weather and has resulted in my lovely painting running down the walls in places and forming painty puddles on the floor.

Let hope the dehumidifier I borrowed from my Dad will do the trick and I will be able to start sorting out the mess tomorrow.

If I was the unkind sort I might liken the situation to that at Liverpool.

It's certainly feeling all a bit slippery over there.

I can feel a chill run down my spine just like my paint.

Torres has come out in support of Benitiz.

An almost exact replication of Tevez's plea just a few days before Hughes' head rolled.

Fingers crossed Benititez has got a dehumidifier.

And that it works.

Pies Move In A Mysterious Way

Mark Hughes loses 2 matches since the beginning of the season and gets summarily dismissed.

Sir Alex loses 5 and no one really comments.

Rory Smith of the Telegraph thinks it is some sort of voodoo.

There does seem to be a weird connection though between Rafa and AF.

In some other dimension.

Meanwhile potentially dark forces are at work at The Emirates.

Who can say where all that is leading?

Elsewhere, the demons are closing in.

But none of these strange goings-on are a patch on the mystery surrounding a recent incident at Old Trafford.

Who threw that pie?

Not With A Bang But A Whimper

The shot was fired without a sound.

But the blow was deadly.

It seems the outcry against Hughes' sacking is almost universal.

Even fellow gladiators.

No such outcry about the revelation that Sir Stanley Matthews had a little dabble as a spiv in his time.

Described by an MP of the time as "The worst kind of treason", over 60 years later the context is no longer understood and the misdemeanour throws only the palest of shadows over the glory of his legendary footballing skills.

Doom And Gloom

It would seem the spell did not work for Mark Hughes.

Interesting that his only previous managerial experience in this country is with The Foxes.

And none of Fergie's tricks or stunts could patch up the holes he has in his defence at the moment.

Cheque book at the ready for next month I would say.

And Mascherano will be wanting to conjure up an invisibility cloak after leaving his team in the lurch today.

Meantime we didn't get to play due to bad weather.

It's quite misery making isn't it.

Mixed Emotions

It's a sea of turbulent feelings out there.

There's 'Arry for a start.

Whose not 'appy'.

Not 'appy at all.

Watford, on the other hand, are happy.

Well maybe not happy as such.

More relieved.

Then there is a rather worried Sparky.

And a couple of people are getting excited about returning to old hunting grounds.

My response to this maelstrom of emotion?

Hey - I finished work today for two weeks.

Like I care.

Cue Drumroll

So the cathedral went OK.

We gave them this.

And this.

In our own unique way of course.

My friend Blue Rinse (don't ask - it's too complicated to explain) came along with an amazing PA system and two friends to help set it up.

We have been friends for a number of years, although I don't see him very often these days.

I was delighted, therefore, when he came and gave me a Christmas kiss with one hand behind his back and said "I've got a present for you".

Ignoring my mother's childhood warnings to me about strange men bearing gifts, I waited eagerly.

I was not disappointed.

I am now the proud owner of.....

(Cue drumroll)

.... "Football Grounds From Above". A book of aerial photographs of all the main stadia in this country.

Now that - ladies and gentleman - is a proper Christmas present.

(PS With My Lover out of the room, here is a little treat for Gooner Junior. It has no connection with the story above but hey - it's nearly Christmas!)

A Little Indulgence

We are playing in Gloucester Cathedral tomorrow, my lover and I.

In this.

We'll be bringing a bit of 'cerntry' to the proceedings.

So as all good prima donnas, I am preparing myself.

We have had some tea and run through a few songs.

I put new strings on our guitars whilst my lover washed up (he's such a tidy bear).

Once through tomorrow's songs.

Then switch on the telly to see what's on.

Football!

"Back of the net", my lover exclaimed, making an unusual little 'dancing-sitting-down' movement.

What better way for a diva to be ready to meet her public than a joyous hour indulging herself.

The Colour Wed

What's going on at worthy Watford I wonder?

Is it just a wobble or are they weally in twubble?

Ouch!

Alright I'll stop that.

More important things to talk about.

Like Tesco's outrageous gaff to the detriment of our red-headed brothers and sisters.

Not that ginger is always a good thing of course.

Prepare To Fall In Love

Welcome to our new American student - Sharon.

Or Shazzer as she likes to be called by her new-found English friends.

You are joining a wonderful world of thrills, spills and plenty of drama.

And pies.

Prepare to fall in love.

I have.

A Game Of Two Halves

You say yes, I say no

You say stop, I say go go go

Oh no

You say goodbye and I say hello

Hello Hello

I don't know why you say goodbye I say..er.. hello

The Greatest Story Ever Told

Are you getting into the Christmas spirit yet ?

I went to a market on Sunday and got most of my shopping done.

So as the cards start to come in I'm beginning to get a little festive warmth creeping in.

Wondering what football goodies Father Christmas might bring me.

Looking forward to having time to watch cheap football videos my lover has bought from the 99p shop.

And getting in touch with the spiritual side of things.

Including, of course, the greatest story ever told.

Yes Butt...................

What is it that we can identify as humans that sets us apart from the rest of the animal kingdom?

Beautiful art maybe?

Our ability to laugh, perhaps?

Or maybe it's the things we don't do.

Or do in a more refined way.

Conflict management might be one that springs to mind.

However, some it would seem, are closer to our ancestors than others.

Keep It In The Family

I have 3 sons..

There's Gooner Junior who you know about.

My one stepson is a Liverpool fan (but we won't hold that against him) and lives locally, although I haven't seen him for a while.

My other stepson lives in America with his wife and son whom I have yet to meet.

They are returning to England to live early next year, which will be fantastic.

Anyway Richard being a bang at it Chel$ea and mad bonkers England fan, I reckon there will be an added dimension to my football world, especially during the World Cup.

And it will be useful to have some insider knowledge on the London boys in blue.

You never know we might, - just very possible on an extremely outside chance of possibilities - might, be playing them next season.

With my step daughter being a ManUre fan we'll have representation within the family from each of the top four and - erm - The Foxes........Sorted !

(HL Says Something bad is happening-two matches lost on the bounce.....I'm scared for her)

Watching Me Watching You

I have been on leave today with my lover.

We have been down to Shepton Mallet to play tunes to a group of older prisoners.

We got there early so wandered into town to savour the delights.

It felt a long hour and a half.

Exacerbated by a particularly disturbing public toilet experience.

Now before you get too excited, it was just me and a voice.

All started well as I shut the door and the lights came on and the wonderful Moonlight Sonata struck up in the background.

After making use of the facility, I pressed the symbol and as if by magic the flush was operated.

Then it all took a much more sinister turn.

I put my hands into the sink in the wall as indicated.

The sign said soap would be dispensed automatically, followed by water and warm air.

Nothing.

I waved my hands around inside the sink.

Still nothing.

Then the voice.

"This toilet is protected by security. Your time is limited. You will be told when it is time to leave".

'"B****r the water", I thought, "I'm a celebrity. Get me out of here".

Relief that the door opened.

And to crown it all - bumping into a sign that said "Mendip District Council. The cleanest District Council in the country".

If my experiences were any indication of what might await any anti-social behaviour of the messy kind, I'm not surprised.

Anyway, to get to the football denouement of this tale.

We arrived at prison at about 6.30pm.

We performed a set in two halves.

Not of this standard of course but the audience was appreciative.

We got chatting afterwards.

To a Glaswegian man who had been inside for years.

A Partick Thistle fan interestingly.

No truck with the Old Firm.

If only we had known beforehand, we could have learnt some of these.

At His Majesty's Service

The name's Tevez.

Carlos Tevez.

Licensed to thrill.

MU5 agent 007.

At His Majesty's Service.

Let's hear it for Agent Tevez.

Woops!

"It happens to every team from time to time", said my lover.

He was referring to an unexpected and thumping defeat.

Of the 5-1 variety.

It's a weird feeling.

Sort of humiliating.

And I am pretty sure it is the worst loss since I have been supporting The Foxes.

Even through all of the pain of the 2007/8 season I don't recall such a memorable kicking.

Maybe I've just been spoilt recently as those Foxy boys continue in their ascendancy.

So I'm consoling myself that you can't learn to waterski without getting wet.

Yanks A Lot

You're 'avin' a larf!

Mr Landon Donovan.

There's not going to be anything 'fun' about playing England.

And you are not a patch on our Lamps and St Stevie of Me.

So don't even go there.

As The Sun newspaper so aptly put it.

Yanks a lot!

Fou Ou Génie?

I'm something of a Wenger fan as you know.

I believe him to be iconic in his own way..

As does my son, Junior Goonier (whose name I have decided to change to Gooner Junior - just because I can)

But sometimes it is hard to defend some of his antics.

Including his latest apparent lack of grace, over, it would seem, someone metaphorically kicking their ball over the fence into his garden.

Interestingly a feature of a number of previous encounters has been his accusation that others are losing their grip on reality (Ferguson, Mourhino).

And this latest incident has caused the mighty Guardian to set up a referendum on the question "Is Arsene Wenger losing it?".

At the point I took the poll over 68% of voters thought not.

But I want to know what you, my dedicated readers, think.

Fou ou génie ?

Vous décidez.

Arsene Wenger. Madman or Genius?
He's so cuckoo he should be in an Alpine clock
Einstein pales into insignificance next to him
He has his moments but don't all talented people?
It is 'ard to say. I did not see eeet.
He should be forced to resign from Arsenal and sent to manage Leicester City

View Results

Create a MySpace Poll

Questions Of The Day

Can sheep really write?

Tevez a Rooneyphile?

When will the Arse learn how to turn their wonderful interpretation of the game into a consistent invincibility?

Have you heard the one about the joking Italian?

Does he really think we are that stupid?

Answers on a postcard please.

Personality Crisis

So if football is the national game, you would expect the BBC Sports Personality of the Year shortlist to feature at least 2 or 3 leading proponents of the beautiful game.

Wayne Rooney perhaps.

Not simply for his consistent, committed and talent performances on the pitch.

But for being an 'ordinary lad' who remembers where he comes from and is learning to become master of himself.

Or what about John Terry (I'm feeling a little bit sick saying this. He's a bit unsavoury in many ways but....)?

Loyal to his Chel$ea (nothing to do with his fat wage packet of course). The rock of England.

But no. What do we get?

Ryan Giggs.

Great footballer - yes.

But surely the whole point of the contest is the Personality has to have one?

Who would I vote for?

Well I'd drop a line to the powers that be and ask them to add an extra place and add Jimmy Bullard to the list.

Second time lucky eh?