"...the picadors of course, each one on his horse. I shouted 'Ole!' every time one was gored... I cheered at the banderilleros' display, As they stuck the bull in their own clever way. For I hadn't had so much fun since the day My brother's dog Rover Got run over."
Two of my obsessions are numbers and football, and those are the reasons for me posting this.
Last night's Euro 08 final was a joy to watch. Germany was the bull, with the scarlet-clad Spanish players each taking their part in his long lingering death and the cliche of Torres the torero, which I believe the 5 Live commentary team managed to pick up on at some point. Chrissy Waddle, btw, is beginning to lose his charm for me, with his deliberate mispronunciations and ever so matey banter. Give me the pervy old Turnip Head any day of the week. Ballack's little head clash was a classic picador moment, it's just a shame that nobody fixed a nice garland to him for him to run around with for the remainder of the game.
Anyway, I guess we have to say that the best team won in the end. At least Spain scored more goals than anyone else, played the most exciting football.
Last night's Euro 08 final was a joy to watch. Germany was the bull, with the scarlet-clad Spanish players each taking their part in his long lingering death and the cliche of Torres the torero, which I believe the 5 Live commentary team managed to pick up on at some point. Chrissy Waddle, btw, is beginning to lose his charm for me, with his deliberate mispronunciations and ever so matey banter. Give me the pervy old Turnip Head any day of the week. Ballack's little head clash was a classic picador moment, it's just a shame that nobody fixed a nice garland to him for him to run around with for the remainder of the game.
Anyway, I guess we have to say that the best team won in the end. At least Spain scored more goals than anyone else, played the most exciting football.
As for the numbers... During the year 2007, I posted 100 times. So far this year, I have racked up 48 (including this one) and need to post a little more than 8 times each month to reach 100 by the end of this year.
45 comments:
Soccer? Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. By the way, why is Taylor a pervert? (I'm assuming this is what 'pervy' means.)
If you listened to 5Live whilst watching the TV coverage, all would become clear.
Well, yes, but would you be so kind as to actually answer my question?
Dear Frank
I was watching the game and so might be able to help you there. First of all, call me a pedant if you like, but 'Pervy' doesn't necessarily mean 'pervert', it can have connotations of 'lecherous' I think you'll find. It was half time during a recent Euro 08 game, and I was commentating for 5Live alongside Graham, though the pictures were also being shown on BBC1. It came to half time, and there was the usual jolly banter between us pundits about text messages received from listeners. However, I don't think Graham was aware that the subtleties behind his radio words were being conveyed by the boob tube to the watching millions. So, I, who wasn't watching a TV monitor mentioned that Spoony is always going on about text messages - which he is! Just then (so I'm told) the director of the TV coverage decided to go with a crowd shot of a rather attractive and very buxom young lady holding a mobile phone in her hand. You could almost hear Graham's lips smacking together just before he said:
"Yes, and I can see where those text messages are coming from, Alan"
I was confused, let me tell you.
I think you are being most unfair to Mr. Taylor. In my dictionary "lechery" is defined as: Inordinate indulgence in sexual activity. If you are seriously suggesting that admiring someone's breasts is lechery then you need to get out more. Or get in more.
I think you're definitely being a bit cheeky. Leave it out.
Yes, leave Mr Taylor alone. If anyone's lecherous it's me.
According to my dictionary, lechery's what you make it, but then again, I am an anarhist.
What's all this talk of dictionaries? The only book worth reading is the Bible. Of soul!
Taylor, Taylor, Taylor, Taylor! Not a lecher nor an undertaker!
Sir, how dare you spletch my life's work? You mountebank!
Signor Taylor, Il ultra componus avanti calcio redactio. Mucho brava et escule por que appreciatio del ragazza melonnies!
Por Favor! Et in arcadia turnipo!
everything's gone green.
I smash you now!
I'd just like to point out that I'm not the man who was here earlier. Now where's my candlestick?
I'd just like to point out for your American readers that I'm not the man in the previous comment.
Oh Reverend, put that thing away and come to the conservatory to see my lead pipe
Hey! Are you me?
No. You are someone else.
Am I you?
No, I'm you and you're someone else.
Who am I again?
Why not move here? Everyone here can remember who they are for most of the day.
And they mean that most sincerely folks!
Did I just say that?
no.
Who said that?
Who said what?
Hugh's on first?
Hughie's usually on first. And second and third...
I'd love to take part in your little chat but I'm watching the tennis.
Who's winning?
Hugh's winning?
Am I winning?
Is some dead guy winning Wimbledon?
Well, neither of the players have suddenly lurched into the crowd and attempted to devour some Surrey housewife's brains, so...no.
Well, the match isn't over yet.
Are you seriously suggesting that some dead guy could win Wimbledon?
Do you see the irony Mr Henman?
Leave Tiger Tim alone! He is one of this great Island's greatest battlers! Him and Mr Taylor.
Hey, Frank, loved you in Planet of the Apes!
Christ! It's Sunday! I don't have time for this!
I've just won Wimbledon!
Congratulations! It just shows what you can do with a little bit of pluck and old-fashioned elbow grease.
You know the problem these days? People don't WANT to work. Mr Zumbie is a fine example to any young people watching.
Hey! What about my blog?
Post a Comment