Can I just say, this has been a rubbish weekend. My friend Spiddy here really illustrates this.
I am on the precipice of insomnia from work to the point where adventures have taken a back seat a good nights’ rest. Then, when I drag myself out, I am witness to the slaughter (you know which one). That, by the way, was the second national side of mine to be knocked out in the space of less than 24 hours. Like a swift hammer blow to the underside of the testicles. I’ll need a minute.
However, everything has a positive side. Right? Well, let’s try to find some reasons why this weekend is good news for my life.
Now England are out, the anxiety finally stops. No more nervous, nail biting hours of staring at the screen, no more worrying that Rooney might go shopping for an umbrella or iguana, fall off the pavement and hurt himself on a mislaid anvil. It’s over. We are free. Free to worry about things actually matter. Like… the weather.
This weekend is the end of completely rubbish england-related flim flam. No more songs pretending to be patriotic to climb through the charts (dizzee rascal, i’m talking to you), no more adverts claiming pizza is someway linked to athletes. I’m sorry. They are all lies. No more lies.
No more hanging out with pubhangers. You know who pubhangers are. Put simply, these are people who own several football strips and obviously don’t take part in any actual sports. I dislike these people. Especially in enclosed spaces, in desert heat listening to them remix a nursary song as a chant simply by replacing all the words with England. Well done. I’ll bet that’s what Beethoven wished he had thought of when he heard it in heaven.
I can enjoy watching football much more as a neutral observer. I know that’s a weird perspective on a sport but I prefer watching as a neutral observer. It ruins it, especially if I lose. When I watch England I subconsciously transform into their star striker and (usually) suffer the following disappointment at missed opportunities and defeat.
There are some ideas that I have always maintained about life. It is chaos, mayhem that should be thanked every morning for not destroying us. We don’t get what we deserve. We get what we get. This weekends’ event reminded me that life can be mean, thus leading me to appreciate the days that are warm, generous or otherwise pleasant.
Like always a crisis is an opportunity. An opportunity for me (and everyone for that matter) to be strong. To get back up onto the proverbial swing and start again from scratch. To dust ourselves down and remind ourselves that failure is the best way to learn.
I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t include a quote from a movie so I’ll end with a quote from Batman Begins. “Why do we fall master Bruce? So we can learn to pick ourselves up again.” Remember that England.