| Product: |
Football in General |
| Date: |
17/07/01 (91 review reads) |
| Rating: |
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Advantages: 90 minutes of happiness and excitment
Disadvantages: A world of greed, curruption and mis-placed values
Children living in Medieval England had it tough. Real tough. The Monarchy was too preoccupied with raging wars, creating Religions and eating ham to provide their younger citizens with skate-boarding ramps and youth-clubs – despite the vast number of petition sheets left on the counters of local stores. Playstations were still in development. Night-clubs were glow-in-the-dark weapons. Rap was a torture method. There were no arcades, no cannabis dealers, no windows and no old ladies.
It’s little wonder then, that football was invented (#things to mention if facing a law-suit from Carling Black Label – children replace knights, no horse, less advertising).
Gang culture was at an all time high. Deadly weapons were crafted and sold freely, undeveloped terrain made superb rumble-ground and police protection was limited to chubby monks and dozing sheriffs. The various gangs would meet across the hilly banks, clash their swords in good humour and swig Vimto from bird nests. During the reign of King Alfred, however, trends began to change. The youth could no longer rely on mock battles and the companionship of their gang members to sedate the boredom caused by poorly lacking technology. The new thing, was to kick.
They would gather tree-bark, urinate on it, then pour it into the hollow of a tree and wait until it solidified into a rough sphere days later. This was the earliest example of a ‘football’. The gangs would fight each other for ownership of the football, by kicking it at each other so that they would fall over.
During the fall of the British Empire, Professors Joseph Peake and Harindo Lay, were among the first asked to propably examine the game, which had by then became a tradition among peasants across Britain. Under the order of King Robert III, their research began to recognise both the flaws and the potential in this ‘football’. After further consultation with t
he King, it was decided – Peake and Lay were to were to write a set of rules, based around the concept of kicking a ball.
The reason for his Lordships embracement of the peasant pass-time was simple – in a time when Britain could no longer control other countries, it was considered wise to befriend them instead. If King Robert could create a game similar to hunting, only that could be played by two opposing teams, he could then theoretically arrange a world competition in which teams representative of each nation meet and play each other for a prize. The clever part was this – by ensuring Britain’s own teams were under-trained, poorly selected and ill-tempered, he could make sure that all other countries would always beat Britain at football. What better way to make them feel better about a century of failure on the battle-field? And so it was decided. Football would become the nations sport, and they would be exceptionally crap at it in the name of foreign relations. That’s it.
And so to present day. Football is about everything besides the sport. We’ve created celebrity players, exciting multi-million signings, football anthems, sponsorships and laws allowing foreign players, all in an effort to disguise the fact we’re not very good at it. Our players demand more money in a year then doctors, nurses, scientists and fire-fighters earn in their life-time. Our tabloids stalk our players, create scandals and lies about them and criticise the every move of our national team, attributing simultaneously to the deterioration of the teams morale and, more sadly, the amount of copies sold. Wealth, attention, admiration – all unevenly and unfairly distributed in the world. The working-class spending their kids college funds on the only hour a week which they enjoy, all in the name of a ‘passion’ and ‘spirit’ we are expected to indulge, respect or at least acknowledge
for a price. It’s became a platform for more advertising, a gold-mine for more greedy people, resulted in hooliganism, attributed to xenophobia and embarrasses Britain on the world stage, both on the pitch and off, every four years without fail.
Ah, but I’m just offering an unbiased point of view, ignore me. Even if being cynical is, in this case, being realistic. I do understand the passion. I understand why men crying at football matches is some how more acceptable then them crying at famine on the television. I understand. It’s the same level of passion found in all fans of all sports, just better publicized, and more common.
And I know the rules too. Don’t mistake me as an arm-chair critic – I’ve stood in the stadium and cheered my little cheer with the rest of you. I know about the skill. I know about the 4-4-2, long-ball, sliding tackle, volley, half-volley, off-side, sudden-death, World Cup of 1966, Pele, Best and half-time oranges. I know loads about Newcastle United, I have my own theories about who should play left-wing for England and I feel a faint bitterness towards Manchester United. I’m one of you. Don’t tell me I don’t understand.
But despite this understanding, I still sigh heavily when I consider what it’s all came down to. None of it means anything. Money, and greed, and a greed for money. For 90 minutes, everything is how it should be - the sport, the pride, the passion, the excitement. People having fun, cheering, sipping Bovril, all the rest of it. But think what occupies every other second in the football world. Greed, scandal, negativity. Bastard tabloids. Sleaze. Scandal. Gossip and lies. How sickening a world that makes David and Victoria Beckham its heroes. How sadly ironic, that we complain about our children not being able to afford or obtain tickets to matches, while at the same time indulging the media that makes players
celebrities able to demand such high wages at our expense. The money spent in a year making sure players play for certain teams – enough to free a million people from poverty. The ever unhappy, nosey public, more concerned with scandal and exclusive pictures of David Beckham’s son then the state of the world around them. Football has became as sleazy, ugly and confusing as everything else, yet we’re to believe it’s about the simple passion and excitement of competition.
Football in general. I make no apologies for how topsy-turvy this opinion is. Maybe you liked the history bit at the start because it was good fun. Maybe you liked the rant at the end, because the desperation reminded you of how you used to care about things when you were young. I dunno, maybe it was all boll*ck. It’s Football in general though – my general thoughts on football. It’s a stupid opinion in a stupid section. Football in general, general thoughts on football. Sadly, the conclusion is same as that always found. I’m poo, you’re poo, everyone is poo. People stink. We’ve flucked it up, and there’s nothing that can be done. Oh, and Peter Beardsley rocks.
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