So a report says that the worst effects of the cutbacks will be felt in the North and round my way in particular. Meanwhile bears have announced they like to have a shit in the woods, the Pope has astounded us with the announcement that he is a Catholic, and John Higgins has said he’s pleased with the outcome of the inquiry into his alleged match-fixing.
John said ‘I’m racked off. I was framed. Deeply screwed if you like.’ He told reporters he’d baulked at the allegation but had taken a long rest, and was pleased to break off from Pat Mooney. It wasn’t the first time a tip off had bothered him but he’d chalk it up as a lesson learned.
Meanwhile the red-tops continue to serve up bile on Wazza’s ‘prowling’ behaviour. It’s just disgusting the way the Croxteth Creep whispers sordid comments into the ears of prostitutes and their friends. Apparently he offers them money for sex too! If I was a hooker I’d be bloody furious and I’d try to cash in as quick as possible.
"Thanks to professional footballers' inability to handle a drink, I can afford these lovely red velvet curtains"
I expect Phil Jagielka will be lining up alongside Sexy Suzy at the heart of Everton’s defence on Saturday. She’ll be pulling him all over the park no doubt.
Or we could stop all this crap and let him sort out his divorce papers with the lass who’s fronting the Littlewoods campaign for Nice Boots. Boots is of course well familiar to her hubby who has been buying 12-packs of featherlite from the Chemists for ages. The swine.
On the pitch, Wayne reminded us of his quality and England were, well, bloody good on Tuesday. Joe Hart had a few flaps – inevitable after Clive Tyldesley was giving him a near-masturbatory review during the Bulgaria game. We had Jermain Duffo upfront or it would’ve been 4-nothing at half-time. But it was good.
Switzerland barely got out of neutral save for the cracking goal their fella scored and a home win v Montenegro should see England into safe waters.
So confident is the gaffer that he’s jacking it in after 2012 by which time he might have realised that the Shaun Wright-Phillips is crap. Sometimes when he’s running with it he reminds me of a toddler following a football down a hill. Even if he reaches it he won’t know what to do with it. There’s Adam Johnson, Lennon, Walcott, Milner, Young, Allbrighton, Gary Neville, the regulars at your local nursery... all ahead of him surely.
Capello’s happy with them all though. Apparently it’s cos they’re not tired. We’ve heard that before. World Cups happen after our season. Always have done. We want our players playing competitive fixtures at top clubs. If they do they play too much and when they get to the big tournament the little loves are out of puff. If they don’t they are presumably too poor a set of players to have any impact on the World Cup any road.
A mid-season break might help but frankly it looks like an argument for saying we’ll never win a gong as a national team. Bleak isn’t it?
Of course another argument is that too much energy is being diverted by our national heroes into extra-curricular activities, not least the employment of shit-hot lawyers who know how slap out injunctions like Billingsgate tradesmen slap out flatfish.
Whatever. These last two games have certainly confirmed a couple of things in my mind. John Terry need not return. Not cos he’s a bit of a plank, cos by that reckoning you’d have no one bloody well left. I mean if the BBC used that rule of thumb then who’d be left to present their television programmes?
No we don’t need JT cos there are better players in his position. Rio, if fit, should return alongside Jagielka.
And can we finally admit that Gerrard is better when Lampard’s not there? It’s blindingly obvious. They go together like steak and custard, like wall-building and jelly, like Kate Moss and a bra.
I'm here cos Stevie G can't make it.
I like Frank. But he plays if Gerrard can’t. End of.
Meanwhile the Premier League has welcomed back one Gerard Houllier. Not quite sure why Villa fans should be so utterly underwhelmed. It could’ve been Grease fan Sven-Goran ‘Well-a, well-a, well-a , ooh!’ Eriksson or Alan ‘nice man but he’s never won nowt’ Curbishley.
Houllier’s remembered for some bloody awful signings at Liverpool. Bruno Cheyrou always springs to mind. He was the new Zidane, wasn’t he? Now he’s the old Eric Djemba-Djemba. But Houllier did win the poor man’s treble in 2001 in the days when Michael Owen had hamstrings.
Plus he inherited that team of right scallies in the white suits. Robbie Fowler’ll tell you that was David James’s idea. They were taking fashion tips from David James... I wonder if Calamity has taken property portfolio tips from the Scouse touchline tooter...
Thing is, Houllier’s won things, he’s always seemed like a decent bloke and at the end of the day that’s better than having an insincere populist with an absence of brain-cells due to the excesses of his lifestyle. Having said that I’d’ve loved Maradona to get the gig.
Villa fans are right up there with the Toon Army when it comes to the Misplaced Big Club Syndrome. And even the Geordies are reining it in now after a year at the back of the sock drawer.
The good old days
How do Villa break in to the top four without going bankrupt? Well they don’t without sending some Brummie elves to the end of the next rainbow to glow over Aston. If you don’t get your heads round that, then General Krulak – as in a ‘Cruel Lack of Alternatives’ – and what a great name for a Villain! - will sit you down and make you understand!
Reality. We get right used to it on Teesside. Only now they call it Austerity.