Very much just another blog

The world cup: a girl’s eye view

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It’s the world cup. The FOOTBALL world cup, and tomorrow is the final England group stage game. See. I know my shit; I don’t *only* think about whether or not I fancy any of the players. Actually, that’s mainly because there’s really been no one since Becks (and I definitely still feel a flutter for him when I see him at the side of the pitch. Does anyone know what he’s doing there? No. Bless him). Did you notice that he was EVERSO cross during the first game. I’m still not totally sure why but if I had to hazard a guess it would be because of the players being massively pony. It’s a guess, though and, potentially, a hazard.

I don’t really dig any of the players, to be honest. Not just because the likes of John Terry make me fundamentally concerned for the well-being of humanity but also, and in a much more straight forward way, because none of them are that juicy to look at. Weirdly, during the last game a friend was convinced I wouldn’t kick Crouch out of bed for eating biscuits but, I assured him: I could never sleep with Crouch; I like his dancy stuff but it would be like shagging a daddy long legs and I wouldn’t know where to begin.

I digress. This post is about FOOTBALL. Not that any of our previous group games appear to have been.

Every afternoon and night another game is played. I think that Denmark one was supposed to be good, wasn’t it. And then there was one with lots of goals. Portugal. Yes. I love goals. Lucky bastards. For the most part, however, the games seem to drip in blandness. I am, of course, basing that observation on nearly nothing, except the muted sounds of discontent I hear from the reception at work where the TV is and the games roll in and out. There’s bunting out too. I feel bad for the people who hung it up and cracked beers open and dips and crisps for that first game when anticipation hung thick in the air and everyone was wandering about with dizzy grins. Poor fuckers. This world cup has produced only a small amount of world cup quality football. I know fuck all about subject, but I’m right about that.

For my part I have watched a total of one and three-quarter games: all of the first one that England played and most of the second. I stopped watching the second because my friend and I had tried everything possible to elicit a goal: go to the loo, smoke a cigarette, leave the fucking building, get in a cab and drive somewhere else… None of it worked. No goals. And goals are the best thing about football. When there’s a goal, there’s cheering and clapping, people I don’t know hug me and pints are pushed together with joy and big grins. Yes. I love a good goal but good goals are hard to come this year.

So here lies my big issue: I don’t see why, to be perfectly honest, everyone’s finding it so fucking hard to get the ball into the goal. The goal place is MASSIVE. And the ball is well small. Footballers only have this one thing to do during ninety minutes (with a rest in the middle) and that’s get it in. I can’t believe we managed to only do that only once since the cup began. That’s rubbish, right? I’m pretty sure of it.  Plus… PLUS footballers are paid shit loads of scratch. You’d have thought they’d try and work for that money. I do tons more than any of those footballers do every single day at work and I am not paid nearly as much.

I was properly up for this World Cup, or at least for the England games; I love being entertained, and the goals. Did I mention them? But I vaguely considered injecting vodka into my eyeballs during the last match, just for a giggle, just for SOMETHING TO DO.  I flicked through my iPhone trying to think of something funny to say on Twitter but the lifeless game sucked my soul to mute nothingness.

Anyway. Exciting about tomorrow, huh. I’m hoping the players are going to pull their fingers out of their arses and give us something to cheer for. If we don’t get any goals, though, please drop me a note anyways; I’m always keen on a free hug, if there are any going.


Written by elikafm

June 22, 2010 at 12:13 pm

Posted in Uncategorized

6 Responses

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  1. Part of the problem is the HUGE amount of money Adidas paid to make the official ball, which all the teams are saying is bad.

    It wobbles in the air and apparently cannot be hit hard without going off randomly like a drunk party animal. Hence no free kick goals AT ALL, even after 32 games, and most shots from distance ballooning over the bar like Richard Branson on helium.

    So blame ugly players, blame crappy old England, but don’t forget there are good players struggling to get you hugs.

    Rob Mortimer

    June 22, 2010 at 12:18 pm

  2. […] This post was mentioned on Twitter by Elika, FamousRob. FamousRob said: RT @Elika: Some FOOLISH bloggery. The World Cup: a girl's eye view. *Lobs in. Runs away.* http://ow.ly/21CSG […]

  3. nice, but nowhere near enough football-speak. there was no ‘at the end of the day’ or stonewall penalty or taking the positives or just a simple let’s win it for rio.

    Giles Palmer

    June 22, 2010 at 1:22 pm

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