Silly Season

Football has taken a low profile in this house over the last few weeks. A few brief moments of interest for me.

Roy Hodgson's arrival at Anfield, subsequent welcome to Joe Cole too.

It's HL tonight btw.

GB is still alive and kicking, I've not done away with her.

She may have something to say if I prod her hard enough, however. Let's see!

"OK! OK!"

I probably can be coaxed out momentarily.

Not least as I have been shamed by Sandy for my recent poor performance.

"I looked at your blog", he said.

" Oops!", I thought, "I've been rumbled".

"I've just felt a bit disengaged with it all. After the World Cup and everything", I said feebly.

"Never mind", he comforted, "only 3 weeks until it all starts up again. I've had all my telly's serviced ready".

And somehow, I believe him.

My Ding-a-ling

"You've fallen out of love with football haven't you?", said My Lover a few days ago.

I was shocked by his question but denied he was right.

It made me think though.

Unable to face posting on my blog for days at a time (first time in the 2 and a half years I have been writing it). Not wanting to even think about it.

Even Sandy has not been able to engage me in discussion.

I felt the end of my blog may well have arrived.

It's been a joyless time.

But as I walked to my train this evening, I made a firm decision to write a post this evening.

Isn't that what true love is all about about?

Fidelity and faith.

I would do nothing less for my lover, my children and my guitar.

And in my heart I know, football too.

So lets get at it girls.

And to kick off, what's the difference between Sepp Blatter and a boy's favourite toy?

Not much it would seem.

It Is Now!

It's HL tonight. GB is still reeling from the aftershock of her first failed World Cup campaign, the loss of Fox's manager ( a man in whom she believed) and, worst of all, living with a bloke who believes LFC are going to win the Premiership next season.

So, it's all over; the big 4 yearly adventure, Fabio's Folly or, as it's become known in our house, the cultural event that must not be talked about.

For it is like a death of many cuts. The TV adverts are still in place. Red and White displays proliferate supermarket shelves and BBQ's have become fashionable again. Every foray outside the house brings one into contact with our national failure. Broken roads and public cut-backs to (now) sporting disaster and broken hearts.

Those in charge (as ever) say lessons need to be learnt. Fresh blood, new structures and a different approach called for.

Frankly, I'm bloody fed-up with it and I have other fish to fry.

Until the next time of course.

HL

Sure As Eggs Is Eggs

I feel the need to indulge in a little self flagellation.

That's better.

Meanwhile, back with Laurel and Hardy.

What's that?

Time to move on?

You're right of course.

Time to start thinking about My Lover's simmering excitement at the appointed of his royal Hodgsonness to his beloved Liverpool.

He hasn't yet said the immortal words "I think this will be their season. Georgina, prepare to witness the renaissance of the Liverpool football team".

But he will.

What Becomes Of The Broken Hearted?

"The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.", Martin Luther King, 1963

"The ultimate measure of a football blogger is not whether she posts in times of triumph, but the quality and frequency of her writing in times of trouble", Georgina Best, 2010

One of us managed to live up to our ideals......................

To be fair though, (as they say in footballing circles), I do have good reason to be miserable.

Like English fans everywhere, I am left feeling cheated and somewhat bewildered by our dismal performance. Which we watched here.

Which reminds me;

Q. What's the difference between a tea bag and the English football team?

A. A tea bag stays in the cup for longer

Boom Boom!

Then, woe is me!

Our beloved Nigel has deserted us.

It's all enough to break a girl's heart.

We Thought It Was All Over............................

Apologies for being absent for a few days.

For the first couple of days this week I found I just couldn't bear to dwell too long on our World Cup prospects.

I had to work yesterday afternoon so was not able to watch the match live. The truth is, though, I wasn't that sorry. I watched the match when I got home, in the safe knowledge that we won. I think the anxiety of watching it live would have been just too much!

My friend Sandy, despite being Scottish, has been very understanding and supportive of my pain.

Every day we discuss the recent matches, the England gossip and forthcoming ties.

He rang me immediately after yesterday's win.

"I think England will go on to win the World Cup now", he said.

Who am I to argue?

How Very Dare They

As I write this, I am somewhat distracted by the sight of Adebayor on my 42", looking very hot.

Surrounded by a very much less hot - indeed positively luke warm, Alan Shearer and Alan Hanson.

Talk about a rose between two thorns.

Emmanuel, the man who managed to do well at Manchester City, no less.

Unlike Robinho, who is clearly performing much better at international level.

And spare a thought for Kaka. Victim of an outrageous disgrace.

Talking of outrageous disgraces, how did Graham Taylor ever get to be manager of the England football team?

I heard him on the radio today.

The best he had to offer was a one-dimensional analysis of the England team's performance to date in the World Cup.

And then I hear the English FA have announced that they expect Capello to resign if we get knocked out at this first stage.

How very dare they?

Keeping Up Appearances

Is what GB and I have been doing since last night.

Regular readers will be aware GB has, at times of worry and stress, the capacity to think about other things. An almost obsessive compulsion to be cheerful, bury her head in other issues and to carry on. Very English indeed I'd say.

England, by common consent, were bloody awful? Off the pace, lacklustre and seemingly out of kilter with playing a team game. The consensus in this house? A team frightened to express itself and be creative. A team not willing to take risks, yet creating risk situations by very clunky football indeed.

After the match, GB and I just sat on the sofa a bit stunned. After a while she said to me, "I'm going upstairs to read my book.

Sat here, Saturday evening, watching the footy again, she's sat beside me, still ensconced with Stephanie. A radio show behind us this afternoon on Stroud FM has not dented her distraction.

The girl is not happy, dreading the next match, but (as always) keeping up appearances.

I feel the same. Sometimes, it's hard being an England football fan.

HL

Feeling Lucky?

I have a good feeling about the match tonight.

Why?

Well it all started this morning, when I went to the dentist.

I received a letter a few weeks ago, informing me the dentist I have been to for the last 25 years, has retired, and I would be seeing his replacement.

Anyway, I was very impressed when a very handsome man called me into his room.

I entered to find another man, equally handsome. And looking quite similar.

I was handed a pair of goggles, and put on a rather undignified blue plastic bib.

Then they worked together to give me a nice little polish.

And a tissue to wipe away the spit.

Not forgetting the mirror so I could see to wipe away the little bit of polish on my lips.

I think its going to feel a long six months until my next visit.

So, now you can see why today feels lucky.

I wonder why I'm still feeling scared too?

Out Foxed

Tonight, girls and boys, I have been taking part in a football tournament.
.
At an event entitled 'Nosh and Becks'.

An evening of lager, nibbles and a round robin table football competition.

My Lover and I only managed 1 win out of 5.

We were encouraged to wear our home strips.

Surprisingly, I was the only Leicester City fan there.

Anyway, there was a photographer there, and she gathered all those wearing footy shirts together for a photo.

A mass of red descended - two Liverpool fans and a Manure loving girl. Plus a Cheltenham Town fan, a Hereford supporter, and a man wearing a shirt with a picture of a rowing boat, suggesting he supported Crewe Alexandra (??).

"Leicester City?", said one of the Liverpool fans. "What have you ever won?".

He then proceeded to reel off a long list of trophies and championships won.

"When did they last win something?", I asked, quietly.

"5 years ago", he responded, apparently expecting me to be impressed.

"Time for some Fox action", I thought.

The photographer gathered us together.

They decided I should go in the middle, being the only one in blue, and because I had a scarf.

And that's when Foxy struck.

I gave each end of the scarf to the two Liverpool fans, and they were forced to hold it in front of us stretched out.

And smile.

Leicester City 1 Liverpool 0

Game over.