Dated: Aug.3; I had to shift this blog from somewhere else
Its 10 days to go for the 16/17 season to officially kick-off. As Nick Hornby noted in ‘Fever Pitch’, football fans follow a different calendar to ‘everyone else’. As one fan languishing in geographical isolation (5000 miles from the Stretford End), one ‘corner’ overflowing with human life (and their excrement), one which does not match the widespread passion for football in the English isles (football, not an oval ball), I empathise with Mr. Hornby’s lament. Personally, I am trying to shake away a self-inflicted hibernation which started with the Champion’s League Final on May 28 this year. My football jerseys of yesteryears are out, washed, and ready to be loved for the first time in months.
On a side note, the Euros didn’t cut it for a football fan. Martial used as an ‘impact sub’ while Giroud led the line for France? Where was Deschamps when our veritable no.9 scored THAT goal against Everton FC in the FA Cup Semi-Final? And I hope NOBODY, not even a North Londoner, wants to hear a word on Olivier Giroud. The only exotic thing about the Gooner’s leading man is his name, and his haircut, maybe.
Well then, Paul Pogba or no Paul Pogba, the city of Manchester is raring to go- will probably be engulfed in mad passion come December, with two immensely qualified managers leading their respective men onto certain glory next summer. The only question, then, is whether Zlatan will maintain his impeccable first-season-trophy-winner record. I, for one, certainly hope that Nobby Stiles’ last few days on this earth are lightened up by an attractive trophy winning season.
Stai ascoltando, Conte?