There are many conceits in English football, but the most important one is that you have to be hard. It’s important because unlike many of our footballing traditions, this one has some foundation in reality. England is cold a lot. If you’re going run around on a frozen field for 90 minutes on a Sunday morning chasing a man who may or may not have spent the previous night in the local police station, you can’t cry when he kicks you. That’s human survival.
Continue reading “Paul Pogba & The End Of Mou” →
Image via dirtytackle.com.
I’ve gathered a fairly disparate and eclectic group of friends over my life, but when it comes to football, they fall into two very distinct (and alarmingly vociferous) categories. Those who love it and obsess about tactics, players and new boot silos with as much enthusiasm as I do, and those who hate it.
An arbitrary and non-scientific survey of the latter revealed that the money and stupidity involved in football are largely to blame for their inflamed ire and to be honest, it’s difficult to defend my beloved game when players continually feel compelled to demonstrate how utterly witless they are.
Continue reading “Sergio Ramos: The Exception Has Landed” →