Jun 17, 2010 3
It’s a fact of life that anyone who likes football has A World Cup, a specific tournament to cling on to and claim as their own. It’s usually the first World Cup you can remember, and every World Cup ever after will always lack the je ne sais quoi that made your World Cup so special. Read the rest of this entry »
Nov 17, 2009 0
It’s almost a week since I (medical jargon alert!) shitted up my knee, and there’s no noticeable improvement. It isn’t painful (which to be fair is an improvement compared to the morning after) but, more irritatingly, it feels uncomfortable and constantly weak. It’s hard to describe. Sometimes it just feels like I can’t put my full — considerable — weight on it. Sometimes it feels like the lower part of my leg is coming loose when I walk. At the moment it feels like the joint has been anaesthetised. And to top it all off my other knee is starting to hurt because of the extra — considerable — weight it has to bear. All in all I’m pretty pissed off. Read the rest of this entry »
Nov 12, 2009 2
In this post I made the comment that my left foot was only good for standing on. It turns out it isn’t even good for that.
It was ten minutes from the end of the football and, foolishly, I attempt what can only be described as a Crap Turn (kind of like a Cruyff turn but, well, crap). And then I felt a ‘pop’ in my left knee. A bit like Michael Owen in the 2006 World Cup but nowhere near as bad or as crippling (literally) for our national football team. Read the rest of this entry »
Nov 11, 2009 3
Monday night the missus and I went for our longest run so far. My guess that there were “probably” street lights on one particular mile and a half stretch of winding country lanes turned out to be incorrect, but we made it around the full 4.35 mile loop in about three quarters of an hour, which isn’t bad (and, per walkjogrun.net burned off 800 calories). I felt I could have gone quicker, but we ran at a comfortable pace and by the end — although my legs were tired and aching — I wasn’t especially short of breath. I’m taking this to be an encouraging sign; it suggests I must be reasonably fit to be able to run four miles and not finish coughing and wheezing my guts up. Read the rest of this entry »
Nov 5, 2009 1
The thing I love about playing sport is that we all play for ‘the moment.’ Whatever sport it is — football, netball, snooker, cricket, golf (technically a hobby as opposed to a sport, but still) — we usually know we’re not brilliant, but we still play, hoping and aiming for ‘the moment.’
The moment: the thirty-yard screamer, the three-pointer, the diving catch, the hole-in-one, the double on the black to win. We play because we all know we have it in ourselves to have a moment of glory. Every dog has his day, and all that. This is the only explanation I can think of for people who spend hundreds and thousands of pounds on golf equipment and green fees when they can’t even hit the ball straight. They hope for the moment. The applause, the cheers, the high-fives, the celebratory beer afterwards. It’s why shit people play sport, I’m convinced. Read the rest of this entry »
