Good Citizen Kane

If there's one thing I haven't missed about the football, apart from standing inside the Riverside Stadium and weeping tears of quiet frustration, it's the meticulous pulling apart of people's psyches by both national and social media alike. However I'm nowt if not a hypocrite so here's the pennyworth I'd be delivering in the Blue Bell if I could find a mask through which a craft brew lager could pass.

Exhibit 1. David De Gea.

De Gea has been for most of his seven years at United the only truly reliable performer in a sea of banality. Just think what he's seen come and go since Fergie's departure. (I say 'departure' but when you see him up in the stand they named after him, it looks more like he's floated up to some heavenly plinth, from where he, Godlike, glares down on the wrecked landscape of a beautiful world he once created. It's kind of how Tony Blair regards the Labour Party.)

De Gea's brilliance kept United competing in - and even swinning - the odd trophy here and there. He saw off the grisly horse manure that Moyes put in front of him after Fergie's Lord Mayor's show. He was a cornerstone of excellence amongst the monotony assembled by Aloysius Paulus Maria van Gaal - yes his name is almost as ponderous as the football his United played. And when Mourinho arrived with a footballing philosophy that had all the inspiration of Matt Hancock's Parkour video, still the Spaniard's keeping stayed as firm as the lacquer that still sweeps back his hair. 

But in the last two years, and lockdown's no excuse, this exemplar of goalying has gone from Master Craftsman to Mr Bean. Every arching tip round the post seems to be the precursor to an inept flop to the floor. He has the air of a man who catches a falling vase, calmly replaces it on the shelf only for the whole cabinet to collapse in front of him. 

Cliche dictates that a manager who shows faith in such a crumbling reputation is to be admired in this day and age. I disagree. Solskjaer needs to get shot of him. I'm reminded of the rapid decline of Joe Hart, and Roy Hodgson's bewildering faith in him despite the fact that he had a lot of trouble stopping hard shots to his left. Hart had been well nigh brilliant for five seasons but Guardiola didn't hesitate to sideline him. He wasn't good enough anymore. Same goes for De Gea. Romero's been good when he's stood in. Henderson has been magnificent at Sheffield United. 

Whether De Gea will recover his form is debatable, but the oft-mooted stories about Real Madrid gagging for him must be long-forgotten now. It's tough at the top, but it's even harder at the back, especially when you've been surviving the hapless contributions of Phil Jones, Chris Smalling, Eric Bailly, Marcus Rojo et al. When you think about it, there's maybe a delayed Post Traumatic Stress Disorder at play here. Rest and recuperation is a must for the poor lad. 

Exhibit 2 - Harry Kane

Social media in particular is full of snide remarks about aspects of his play and personality which I don't get. Kane is:

(a) Overrated
Kane isn't overrated. Is he world-class? Well he's not Government Track and Trace app world-class, no. The problem is you'd be comparing him with Messi and Ronaldo when you say that, which is like saying Andy Murray's shit cos he's nowhere near as good as Roger Federer;

(b) Greedy
Well strikers are supposed to be greedy, aren't they? It's like criticising a walrus for being too fat. England: 26 goals in 35 appearances. Spurs 142 goals in 207 appearances. Yes I know there was the Stoke goal he claimed when it brushed past a nasal hair. So what? Long Live Greedy;

(c) Too many of his goals are penalties.
Man City have flailed around with some inept spot-kicks this season. They're miles behind Liverpool too. A reliable penalty-taker is a must-have.

(d) Hasn't got nearly enough pace in the modern era
Well, he's not slow and Southgate plays him a little deeper as a creative front man particularly wen the likes of Rashford, Sterling or Sancho are haring down the flanks. Pace isn't everything.

(e) Speaks funny
Yes he does. He'd prefer to let his feet do the talking I'm sure.

(f) Hasn't got the balls to go to a massive club
Well I guess these homegrown players tend to be too loyal. Spurs seemed to be in that bracket when they opened their great new stadium and got to the Champs League final. I'm sure a move wouldn't harm his career, mind.

(g) Has won nothing
See (f)

(h) Is injury-prone
He's not Darren bleeding Anderton.

What troubles me is that even when we have a national team that's really enjoyable to watch, in which Kane is captain and a central figure, there still seems to be a campaign to undermine him. There's an idea that, as was the case with Sterling, these lads need taking down a peg or two. I don't know what more Kane is supposed to do. He works hard, gets his rewards. seems ambitious without being a prick about it. And still the snipers snipe.

It makes you fear a little for the future of wonderkids like Mason Greenwood or England's best midfielder Phil Foden. I hope when these lads get in the England team that a bit of leeway is given them.

What's more it seems that successful footballers are held to more exacting standards of morality and behaviour than the people who run the country right now. Given a choice between to an entitled vacillating racist inconstant babyfathering sickbag of half-truths and evasions and a decent footballer, I know who I'd choose.

Klopp-Clap but Never Mind That

Claps to Klopp and the empty Kop! No amount of hammering by Citeh should confuse the issue. That victory was like a lapped runner hitting Mo Farah with a rotten orange - a small victory but you’re still wayyyyy behind.

Still it whets the appetite for next season and next season will be here very soon. As a Boro fan I’d be happy if it started now. The arrival of Warnock is like a foreshadowing of death. He is the managerial version of the last chance saloon. He’s the old guy in the zombie apocalypse movie who dealt with something like this Back in ‘92 and knew he’d be needed again. 

All the scrapes he’s been through have left him with an iron will, a foolproof method and no discernible eyebrows. That method involves defending like she-lions and nodding in the odd set-piece. I reckon his man-management technique is very much stick and carrot. But without the carrot. I think we’ll stay up with him there. Whether my nerves can bear it is a whole other matter.

Meanwhile other sports are tiptoeing into the limelight and, in the case of Novak Djokovic, skipping straight off to the hospital. Djokovic has always struck me as a little up himself despite the odd nod to humility. It is often asked why we don’t like him as much as Rafa or Roger and I think its cos he has all the charm of a gatepost and hair that looks suspiciously like an otter pelt. But that’s just me. Any road, swanning about with your tennis chums and taking as many precautions as a prime minister in a Covid ward reaps its inevitable rewards. Get well soon and don’t be a twat when you get back on court.

The Conservative Party at play is revived next week too. Test cricket returns - and indeed club cricket now Boris Johnson has understood that cricket need not necessarily involve lunches and teas and shared boxes. Just as education need not necessarily involve Latin verbs, emotional stunting and the induction of a wholly unjustifiable superiority complex. I’m kind of looking forward to it, although without Root England’s top 4 has all the solidity of Norwich City stroking it around on the edge of its own penalty area.

Despite the arenas having the air of a implausibly uninhabited planet on Star Trek, the Premier League itself is shaping up nicely, now that the champs are just about keeping their crowns on straight. Beyond the Canaries, who fell off their perch a while back, there is a bum-squeakingly tight contest at the rear end of the table. Bournemouth look doomed. The club, not the twats clustered on the beach. Eddie Howe’s team have all the bearing of men not quite recovered from induced comas.

Above these two, Watford’s minor improvement under Pearson seems a distant memory, Villa have been treating the route to goal as some some of maze in a Beano annual, and West Ham miraculously found some from to grab a 3-2 against Chelsea.

Still Chelsea are hanging in there, as the foot-race to the Champions League becomes keener than some English mustard with a kick of chilli. United - with Fernandes looking as good as anyone this season - are reborn; Leicester might just have woken up in time; Wolves, armed with the superhero auditionee Adama - who unlike his days at the Boro has learn to run extremely fast and keep the ball with him, look good even with the Arsenal defeat.

On the other hand, who the hell are Spurs right now? And when is Mourinho going to take a long hard look in the mirror? (Okay, clearly he does that every day - but for the wrong reasons). Personally I think Jose’s lost it. He’s got a pretty fine squad there and yet the defence is as polite as a socially-distanced queue outside Waitrose, and the attack is utterly without a plan. Mourinho, as is the way with responsible personalities in this grievous modern age, is happy to dole out blame to anyone  who’s been within two metres of the team bus. If players lack motivation then maybe the bloke in charge of them might find ways to find that motivation. Or maybe you just sit on your hands and moan at the ref? No that’s our job, the fans’ job!

In short, I reckon it’ll be United and Chelsea to nick out Leicester. And Norwich, Bournemouth and Villa to go. Be glad when this season’s  over and we have no rest 

The Admirable Marky Dashford

That Daniel Rashford eh? One minute he's bigging up the trans community, the next he's getting the government to make a U-turn on their policy of hiding in big houses while poor children starve. 

Of course Twatt Mancock's a busy fella and it's easy to make mistakes. Like standing right next to someone in parliament when you've been banging on about social distancing for three whole months you dozy prick. Or like Turkish PPE. Amazing how we were lied to about the Turks coming into Europe in 2016 and now we're so desperate for cheap gloves and aprons that we'll buy any old shit off them. 

Still xenophobia is a go-to solution when you've run out of credibility. There's still a market for it, if we look at the Churchill-in-a-Fred-Perry-Looky-Likey Competition that occupied Parliament Square on Saturday. Sexy men though, eh? Everyone just ripe for the wank-bank, ladeez? Lager, hair-loss and spittle roughly thrown together in humanoid form. Lush. Mind you, don't let these Grim Gurgles of Reflux distract you from the racists who manipulate, inflame and then abdicate all responsibility.

Black Lives Matters is here to stay, I hope. As a response 'All Lives Matter' just makes me want to stove in the television. Here's an analogy that might appeal to your average Daily Telegraph bigot. 

Say you want to renovate a tumbledown mansion. And Kevin McCloud says to you "I expect you'll start with the foundations in the Great Hall: the damp course has been neglected and the floorboards are rotten." And you turn to Kevin McCloud and you say "Kevin, ALL THE ROOMS MATTER!" And Kevin says "Well, yes, but if you don't fix the foundations then the whole building's in trouble." And you say "ALL THE FLOORS MATTER, KEVIN!" And Kevin says "You're two of the biggest wankers I've ever met" and you say "ALL WANKERS MATTER, KEVIN." 

Now of course if you're a poor white person you might find it hard to understand why rich brown people like Raheem Sterling are getting all the attention. (By the way it's cos although he's extremely wealthy and very good at his job, people still shout obscenities at him). But of course while this is an issue of race it's also an issue of poverty.

Which brings us back to Marcus Radcliffe. 

Darcus Rashworth's greatest strength in all this - and by God if he can lead the line for England with the same skill and fortitude in 2021 I'll be grabbing the Queen by the ermine and demanding his knighthood be presented on the pitch there and then - but, yeah, his greatest strength is that he's been there and he hasn't forgotten. He was that hungry kid: raised by a devoted but hard-working single parent but without the recourse to family wealth that will no doubt help the children of other more notable absent fathers. Like PM Norris Johnstone. Jernstern treats difficult political issues like he does the offspring of his own carefree spaffing - he heads indoors and hides for a couple of weeks and reappears when Cummings tells him the coast is clear.

Despite the media saturation of  Marius Bashful's call to feed hungry children rather than wait for them to devour each other, Johnson only heard of it yesterday. Which begs the question, what the f**k were you up to? 

Turns out he was busy recording a video to celebrate a brand spanking new trade deal with Australia. As Liz Truss put it, her oratory as uplifting as a seal cull, it's a long-established relationship - we gave Australia some steel to build a bridge and they gave us Edna Everage. See that Europe!? Yep we're in the financial and cultural big league now. Swapping sickening biscuits and salty spreads. And they systematically abuse brown people too! 

(Also Bernice Whoreson was onanistically splurging £960,000 on the prime ministerial plane - it's going to be covered in Union Jacks as it pollutes its way into foreign lands. A sort of airborne hooligan, full of shit-for-brains and begging bowls and on its way to a quasi-dictatorship not very near you.)

Anyway once Marvin Duxford made BJ aware of this iniquity the PM quickly donutted his Limousine of Indifference and headed back towards the foreign country that is Common Decency. These U-turns are becoming as regular as disappearing scientists these days. What Doris Jenson and his breezy sidekick Mitt Handsock tend to do these days is name a figure or a date and then find out later whether any of that is feasible. I'm sure as a flaxen-haired junior gargoyle Beavis Jizzbomb would often declare to anyone that was listening that he'd love a crown and a cloak to swan about in 'and by Tuesday it will be here' and lo and behold some lackey had made it happen otherwise the immigration authorities would have been made aware of his potentially illegal presence in the home of a wholly unaware toff. 

It may be how the world works in Downton Abbey but government policy requires consultation and time - two things Bernice DimSum has no concept of. 

But at least we have distractions to comfort us ordinary mortals. Yes we look around the world and think 'Why are we in the top three stupidest countries in the world?' but forget that - the Premier League's back on. I though I'd be utterly unmoved by the prospect but, actually, I can't wait. In fact we're half an hour into Sheffield United v Villa and I'm writing this pigging blog! 

Any road, whatever else with this footy bonanza let us not forget the magnificent contributions from the footballer Marcus Rashford - not to mention the brilliant and capable young fellas like Sterling and Mings and Sancho - who are proving that players of the beautiful game have smart and beautiful minds too. 

I'm going to watch the match now (well the second half any road). I'm going to cheer like nobody's watching. Where's that lager?