NEWSFLASH: Nobody cares about transfers, we’ve got Europe to fight for! – Woody’s Weekly Woundup

Arrrgghh!! That’s the problem with writing on a Sunday morning;
my fingers look like the main street at 4am, all stale drink, piss and kebabs,
not easy to type with – mmm nice.

Anywho, wow! What a week!

Too much crap to mention, and an awful lot of fat people
involved too… more on that later.

Firstly I’d like to point you in the direction of a reply I
got to last week’s Wound Up.. I got seven or eight tweets from @PeteMartin1981
and combined they are just brilliant. “You lazy f***er I hear you say” “write you
own stuff”, I hear you say…Well suck eggs, just read it and enjoy..

@PeteMartin1981 “Superb
mate. Puts it far better than I ever could. Football used to be so much more
enjoyable when you’d watch it and discuss it for the afternoon over a drink and
then onto the next. No thoughts of transfers or endless in-depth analysis of
tactics or systems. Just the simplicity of an afternoon out with some great
people watching a game of footy and the escapism it brought with it…… Sorry
about this, it’s just your blog reminded me as to why I loved watching football
and AFC obviously. Fantastic. That’s what I mean. I don’t know about stats and
systems and tactics, which is why I rarely criticise. I just remember when I went;
I didn’t care about anything else in the world. It was me, my mates and
Arsenal….regardless of who was wearing the shirt. I wish I could put it into
words like you guys, but I know my limits.”

Now isn’t that just spot on? Football described in such a
simplistic way, as it should be. Without all the bollocks that comes with it
these days. For example as Wojciech Szczesny was making that wonderful save
against twitchy twat’s Queens Park Rangers to keep the scoreline at 1-0 and
keep up our charge to Champions League, my Twitter timeline was full of chats
about your Stevan Jovetic’s and Radamel Falcao’s and Ashley Williams’. Well
sweet divine Jaysus! There’s a feckin game going on here! AND WE’RE PLAYING you
poxy bellends! AAAARRRRGGGHHHH!

Do these people support transfer dealings, sponsorships and
endless fucking speculation or at any point in time does that thing come into
it… ahh you know the thing… that yoke… yeah yeah the roundy thing… awww damn
it! It’s on the tip of my tongue…AWW YEAH GOT IT!!! Fecking Football. Mother of
Jesus, I was home chewing the side of the sofa like a six-month-old retriever,
being driven up the walls for nigh on two hours, because “yeah” it’s great
scoring after 20 seconds, but it’s not so great when you do feck all after it,
and then let the other shower of pre-relegated shites back into the game, but
meanwhile there’s “FANS?” ,inverted comma’s/Question marks/etfuckingcetera
having a lovely whimsical chat about “oh, do you reckon we should cough up the
extra pittance and go for Mats Hummels over Williams?”. My blood boils, and
they wonder why I drink.

Deep breaths! And calm…..

Anyway what else went on? Oh how could we forget “The Sunday
Meltdown”, when Manchester United played Chelsea? Yes a game in which we weren’t
involved led to the biggest meltdown of epic school ground proportions, the
likes of which haven’t been seen since Mr Kevin “scratch” McGee took the ball
and burst it with his pen-knife during dinner break with the score at a tense
14 – 12 to team 3F (I was going to say the time that Billy Owens got his cock
caught in his uniform zip and was made stand at the front door, while the whole
school pointed at him laughing…but I thought it’d be too much, haha) Yes
people, we weren’t involved, we couldn’t influence the game, we knew Tottenham
Hotspur would fuck up during the week, and that our fate would lie in our own
hands, but still Twitterland exploded.

Everything was attacked.

Nothing was safe.

From our tactics, the Chav’s tactics to Sir Alex Ferguson’s feckin
choice of jacket; there hasn’t been tactical analysis of the sort seen since Winston
Churchill rolled out his map of Europe and started picking beaches for crying
out loud. The manager, the board, the fucking foreign fans, and players too of
course. The price of the chips, the quality of the vinegar on said chip, the “I
won’t renew my season ticket unless they get brown sauce”, the grass is totally
the wrong shade of green. I give up.

Please go back to the top and read the first piece again,
just a reminder of how football should be, and how easy and enjoyable it can
be.

And finally I guess I can’t go without mentioning a true
legend, for the weeks that’s in it, and with great respect that should be
offered to the great man.

Happy birthday Dennis Bergkamp. Haha I got you there, you
thought I was going to talk sweetly about Fergie with his face like a radioactive
fish.

Finally we might have a more level playing field and only
need to tackle the oil tycoon’s and not the 15 or so points that Fergie  earns for not getting penalties given against
him, or red cards likewise.

With your face like a baboons arse…. A slapped baboon’s
arse.

We won’t have to see him walk along the touchline with his
fast little hand clap like a slightly retarded seal.

With your face like an overused nipple. (Which Mrs Fergie
will be now that the chewing gum sponsors gone).

Aww yes the world is a better place….and we had a party… (Not
me by the way).

Where are these fat people you mentioned?

Well there’s Fat Frank Lampard, who had quite a large media
and cyber wankfest about himself on Saturday after breaking his goalscoring
record, of which it has been pointed out were divided up between deflections
and penalties.

And of course there’s the other elephant in the room; Wayne Rooney.
The Wazza bit alone should be enough reason not to sign the prick, or the dive at
Old Trafford to end our march towards 50 unbeaten, or the fact that he might
mistake Arsene Wenger for a granny in the showers and end up bursting him a new
asshole, and thus leaving him unable to sit on the bench for a few months
(sadly some people would like that).Or the fact that he’d get bored of us, and
the little boy inside him, (more like the full-size Buddha statue inside him)
would want more money, more grannies, more hair etc..and off he’d go armed with
his mega-buckets from KFC and our millions, no thanks I say.

AARON RAMSEY WON OUR PLAYER OF THE MONTH.

I just thought I’d highlight that. I’m delighted for him,
top lad, and a real pro. For fuck sake if for no other reason than he chose us
over United – He should have instant legendary status for that alone.

And a quick word on Wigan Athletic, and their ‘one of the
good guys’ manager. What a joy, a team assembled for £11m beat the classless Manchester
City, who had 11 players who were signed for more than £11m. Ah yes there is a
god, and it proves that as in life, money isn’t everything, and as the
commentator said “Look at those Wigan fans, the joy! Yes City could have won
the cup, and yes they would celebrate a bit, but would it really mean as much
to them as it does to these people?” No sir, it wouldn’t. And that extra joy
comes from the hard work and graft and penny pinching that had to be done in
order to achieve that great success, not just throw a chequebook at it… Can you
see where I’m going with this?

Until next time, when hopefully the season will be over and
done with, the job completed, with us in the Champions League and the Spuds
scurrying away whinging “not again” as they cry themselves to sleep on their
Christian Gross pillow-cases… Until then UTA.

John Woods 


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