Timed To Perfection

The Roon is in the ascendancy.

Sir Alex has moulded a world class player from the raw materials of passion, talent and ambition.

The hours of target practice have paid off.

The ugly duckling has turned into a swan.

Living proof that in the right hands, it is possible to create something both technically brilliant and beautiful.

Fiddling While Rome Burns

It strikes me that the more you try to regulate and control people, the more problems you create for everyone.

Take football for example.

Tribal. Passionate. Where battles are fought, won and lost.

Yet it would seem that the Fat Controllers have some deluded belief that they can micro manage behaviour within football's vast sociology.

It will be interesting to see how they deal with Wayne Bridge's refusal to shake hands with Terry, which is, of course, against one of their many, many rules.

And what are they going to do if the likes of Ferguson refuse to be interviewed?

Talk about fiddling while Rome burns.

If they spent even half as much time concentrating on the bigger strategic picture, on rectifying a system that allows clubs to get into ridiculous debt and unsustainable financial positions, they could find themselves heading up a highly successful industry.

Meantime, they will no doubt continue not to notice what's creeping up on them.

A Pale Imitation

A compelling fixture last night between Inter and Chel$ea, which lived up to all expectations.

It's weird how when you watch a great match like that, enhanced by the fantastic atmosphere created by the crowd, you get completely caught up in that world.

It all seems so big, so important.

And then suddenly you are facing one of life's important moments.

When your character is tested and you have to place your trust in others.

A minor operation for a loved one, not life threatening, but nonetheless an intense experience.

Wanting to do the right thing to help him through it.

Coming through the other side and knowing it's going to be OK.

Within 24 hours, somehow the drama of a Champion's League drama, starring Jose Mourhino, seems a pale imitation of real life.

Special Meaning

They say Jose was mocking the ref.
They say he showed him disrespect.
But I know what his meaning much better than them.
Jose likes a bit of the old S and M.

That Monday Feeling

What can you say about Mondays?

I manage that "Monday Morning Feeling" by keeping my expectations very low.

Then I won't be disappointed.

But every now and then life deals me a pleasant surprise.

Like today.

An email from Mr Charlton Athletic.

Who remembered me saying I would love to get tickets to an Arsenal game.

And has come up trumps!

Gooner Junior and I are off to The Emirates.

I'm so excited.

For my son.

I, of course, will be singing "Leicester 'til I die" inside.

But who knows, if I manage my expectations, I may enjoy myself a little bit.

Still Learning

I think I have told you before I now travel to work by train.

Which is proving very helpful to my football studies.

My lover regularly buys me FourFourTwo magazine.

And with the extra time my new transport gives me, I am taking the trouble to read it cover to cover.

You'd be amazed what I have learnt.

I now know, for example, about a character called Jimmy Jump.

That England won a football world cup this year.

But most excitingly of all, I have found out that there is a major debate going on about what Mancini's scarf says about him.

Some say it makes him a style icon.

Others that it shows he is loyal.

It is even suggested that it shows he is a vulnerable as the fans.

And there was me thinking he just looked a bit of a muppet.

It just shows you, I still have so much to learn.

Consult The Oracle

I know why you are visiting this site today.

Ever since you watched the Arsenal match against Porto last night, you have been thinking " I wonder what Georgina Best thinks about that second goal?", haven't you?

I'm right aren't I?

Well I will tell you.

I think that had Sol Campbell and his team mates been on the ball, they would have realised what was happening and responded quickly.

They did not react. Too busy being distracted by their own protestations.

Had they responded quickly, however, then I do think the referee would have been obstructing Campbell.

So I think on balance it was probably the right decision by the referee.

That's what Georgina Best thinks.

So now you know.

Eeyore Rocks

I can't remember if I told you but my stepson and his family have moved back to England from America.

He is a bang-at-it Chel$ea fan.

Other than an occasional phonecall, I haven't had a real conversation with him about football yet.

So I thought I would impress him by wishing his team good luck this evening (I mistakenly thought they would be playing).

Georgina's text: Good luck against Mourhino's lot

Stepson's text: Ty. Don't think we play until next week. Round Gooner Junior's watching Arsenal atm

"B****r!". I thought. "How did that happen?"

"I know. This will impress him"

Georgina's text: "Don't tell Gooner Junior, but I fear Sol Campbell is a donkey"

Within 30 seconds, Campbell scores.

"Now what do I say?", I thought.

Only one thing to say.

Georgina's text: "Eeyore rocks!"

It's Tossers' Day

My lover's been a tosser today.

Which is always welcomed by a girl with a sweet tooth and a passion for a treat.

I do love the odd tradition.

And speaking of odd traditions, have you ever been to Ashbourne on Shrove Tuesday?

Worth a visit I would say.

Probably just as a spectator though, eh!

Too Good To Be True

Ever heard the expression "If it's too good to be true, it probably is"?

Apparently not everyone has.

Punching Above Your Weight

Back up to 6th in the Championship.

A very impressive performance too I gather.

You probably think I am on top of the world about it all, and of course in many ways I am.

But I also have a niggling worry about the possibility of us finishing in a play-off position, and the prospect of promotion to the Premiership.

League 1 to Prem in 2 seasons would be quite something, but also represents an incredible stretch.

Talk about punching above your weight.

And what can happen when you get found out.

Ugly Can Be Beautiful

My lover and I have a new addition to our home.

Henry.

Or, rather, Numatic International Henry, to give him his pedigree name.

He is not the most beautiful of creations.

But he has a reassuring robustness.

And a turbo suck beyond your wildest dreams.

He is the latest in a line of brothers and sisters who have failed to live up to their promise.

2 vacuums in under 2 years. One blew up. And the other gradually fell to pieces, ending in a final flourish from a brittle hose, now in two parts and beyond repair.

And he has become an instant hit in the Best household. Henry is our saviour.

My lover says he is a cult vacuum cleaner.

Which got me to thinking, you don't always have to be beautiful to get the job done.

Just as well eh?

What's The Point?

Have you ever found yourself saying something you never thought you would find yourself saying?

Not in a million years?

Such as, "Arsene Wenger - now there's a man who knows how to lose with dignity"

Or "You have to hand it to Gary Megson. He gets his teams playing beautiful football".

"It would never happen", I can hear you saying.

I would usually be the first to agree with you.

Except today it did.

Today I said to myself, "Sepp Blatter's got a point".

His suggestion that the issue of John's Terry's infidelity towards various people around him (or 'The Terrygate Affair' as some like to call it) would have been viewed differently in a Latin culture has merit.

What I don't agree with, however, is his pejorative tone in his analysis of why the "Anglo-Saxons" responded as they did.

The point is everything takes place in a sociological context.

It's not about the things that happen. It's about our reaction to them, based upon our culture and our belief systems.

So like I say, Sepp Blatter has got a point.

Just not the point.

Girl's Rock

Do you remember the fateful day when I went to see a match at Forest Green Rovers, refereed by a woman?

Well that same woman has just made football history.

The latest in long line of female pioneers of the beautiful game.

I know there are some out there who think women have no place in the man's game.

But I have to say to you boys - look at the mess you've got into without us.

Maybe it's time to welcome us in.

Trouble Ahead

There are times when you gotta do what you gotta do.

Stand up for what you believe in.

So I feel some split loyalty in respect of the report in today's Telegraph about a Blue Square Premiership match called off just 2 and a half hours before kick off, because Chester players refused to board their bus in protest about their unpaid wages.

"Good on ya!", I thought, whilst simultaneously feeling a small pang of loyalty to my local team.

A sign, maybe, of the malaise at the very centre of English Football?

Portsmouth and Cardiff facing winding up orders.

Crystal Palace for sale.

Liverpool severely weakened.

And so on and so on.

I wonder if this signals a beginning of an avalanche stirring in the background.

Methinks there may be trouble ahead.

Mostly Good

I don't know if it's an age thing. Or the impact of the recession on the way I think about things. Or the influence of my lover who inspires me to think about things in an alternative way.

But increasingly, I am coming to the conclusion the way to make things work sometimes, is to put the power back with the people.

For example, I have been watching the series currently on television about how the Internet came to be.

And I have been struck how the altruistic ideals of those early pioneers have resulted in a tool that gives power to the masses through information and communication.

So I was interested to read about Mansfield's creative approach to encouraging more people through the gates and increasing revenue.

What is so striking about the outcome is it's success at numerous levels.

Doubling of attendance.

100% more people getting an experience of live football. Who knows, some perhaps for the first time.

For others, it could be they were drawn from a wider pool of people who go, just occasionally, rather than every week.

The takings are up.

And the detail behind that is the decision each person made about what they would pay for their afternoon's entertainment.

A range from 2 pence to £50.

What criteria would they have used to decide?

Their personal level of wealth? Their level of love for the team? The extent to which they wanted to show support for the idea?

I don't know if you can draw too much from this one experiment. You can't, for example, assess whether the fact this was the first time, with an element of novelty, distorts the figures and that people may make different decisions if this were a more permanent arrangement.

But I do really like the idea of building a relationship between a club and its fans based upon trust.

That is not to say that other fans do not trust their clubs.

But an approach like this goes much deeper because it involves genuinely sharing power.

I guess it all boils down to whether you fundamentally believe people are largely good rather than bad.

What am I?

Well mostly good I would say.

Apart from when I'm thinking about Drogba's thighs, of course.

Razor Sharp

After a nice lunch of grilled tuna on a bed of couscous with roasted spring vegetables, washed down with a pint of Uley beer, followed by Banoffee bread and butter pudding with cream at this pub, (although the 'specials' board didn't offer some of the deserts occasionally on offer - allegedly) we came back to the good old Fountain for the Chelsea Arsenal match.

I won't dwell on the match for obvious reasons (Gooner Junior reads this blog).

There was, however, one lovely moment where John Terry was on the ground with an injury to his thigh.

And someone in the pub shouted out " I hope it's not his k**b!. There'll be 18 women out there in mourning".

It's just that sort of cutting edge satire we've come to know and love in our local hostelry.

When The Fat Lady Sings

So which bit of "You're sacked!" is it that you don't understand Terry?

What is it about the idea that Rio Ferdinand is now captain of England that seems to be puzzling you?

You haven't just been put on the naughty step for a minute or two.

This is it.

It's for real.

And it's over.

He Says Goodbye And We Say Hello

So it's time to say goodbye to the man who's lack of personal integrity has left him stripped of the captaincy of his country.

And bid a warm welcome to the man who, until now, has had to settle for second best.

The man who has proved his ability to have a second coming following a ban for failing to cooperate with a drugs test.

The Dad who takes his young family on proper holdays.

And, a fine footballer who has been known to spring the odd surprise.

Step out of the shadows Mr Ferdinand.

What it is to be in the presence of greatness eh girls?

Quantum Football

My lover has been out tonight.

Working.

So I took the opportunity to indulge in a BBC 4 treat.

2 hour-long episodes of a programme all about the history of chemistry and physics.

You may think I'm sad but each to their own.

And I mean you need a break from football sometimes don't you?

Except of course the universality of the beautiful game means that never happens.

So I'm ensconced in a world of periodic tables and bunson burners when they start talking about someone called Niels Bohr.

A Danish goalkeeper of some note.

Who in his spare time developed the theory of nuclear fusion.

Like you do.

It's A Rap

What have football and evolution got in common?

No, not the missing link.

Although I can see where you are coming from.

Let me explain.

When Leicester were relegated less than two years ago, Mandaric promised to stop, reflect and learn.

And there is clear evidence that he did.

He chose well in his new manager.

He has kept his head down and the club out of the press other than for positive reasons.

And that mentality has filtered down through the organisation to the team.

They play, they analyse and they make changes.

How is that like evolution?

Performance, feedback, revision.

Happy Groundhog Day!

It's Groundhog Day.

If you have seen the film of that title, you will know it is about a man who keeps reliving the same day again and again.

What this provides him with is an opportunity to put right wrongs, and learn to do things differently.

It's an interesting concept.

I love all that stuff that stretches the imagination around time, don't you?

I can't help thinking a certain footballer may well feel as if he is actually be living the dream.

Every morning he wakes up and picks up the newspaper, to read the same headlines.

Friday.

Saturday.

Sunday.

Monday.

Tuesday.

Unfortunately, of course, he doesn't actually get the chance to put things right does he?

Unless his sequel allows him to do this.

Around and Around

Is a song by Chuck Berry of course. I prefer this version. That little riff Keith does, GB can do the same !

It's the old bear again....sorry.

Yea...I've been listening all day to sport radio and JT is top of the tree. Everybody involved in the game seems to have an opinion. The fan's take opposing views too.

Interestingly, a huge swath of Chelski supporters have been marshalled, it would seem almost, by dark forces, to flood the switchboards with expressions of sympathy, support and manly pride.

Contrastingly, various Citeh supporters have been outraged in their condemnation of Capt Terry's dubious conduct.

Apparently, Fabio has the sole task of national arbiter, regarding Mr Cool's ultimate future.

What's struck me most about the whole thing is that, the moral maze, modern Britain has become. is a vibrant, if stroppy soup of a Country.

Anyway, just to say I think he needs to consider his position. I think, GB agrees. I say I think, because it would appear moral absolutes are not, decidedly, the way forward in this matter and both of us have wavered in our judgement regarding our leader.

All driven on, I would submit to the bench, by Red Tops.

Don't we just love it ?

HL