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.