Tuesday, 3 January 2012
A happy 2012 to all.
After an accident with a set of clippers on New Year's Day, I have a neat bald patch about 2 inches square on the left side of my head, just behind the temple. The resulting requirement to crop the rest of my hair as close as I felt able (I possess a phrenologist's dream scalp in places and have no desire to share my intriguing lunar formations with the wider populace, thank you very much) has left me feeling as if I look rather like a very large baby, and it will I'm sure take a while for me to grow accustomed. This follicular debacle - making me somewhat frightened to remove my hat this morning - has so far at least proved to be less of an embarrassment than I thought it would, although the almost total indifference of my co-workers is probably because they could fucking care less. Then again, my merciless (not really) kids didn't laugh as much as I thought they would, so perhaps it isn't all that bad. Maybe I should follow the advice of a City fan on Twitter, who told me to go for a Balo. Or maybe not.
I have made a resolution not to talk about the global financial situation, at least for a while, so will instead seek the shaven haven of the beautiful game, and the reinforcement of my recent pleasure/pain principle treatise over the New Year schedule. Wonderfully surprising to hear the Rags go down at home to Blackburn as it was, I admit to feeling a little shiver of schadenfreude fear as I gloatingly texted my Rag mate; with City's visit to the Stadium of Light still ahead, this was perhaps an unwise act. Of course it came back to haunt me in spectacular style as I sat in the kitchen with a 2 inch square bald patch on the side of my head listening to the ghost of the Roker Roar spew out of the radio with the final kick of the match.
There was a horrible inevitability to the defeat, though - despite showing alarming signs of reverting to the old City ways of leaving ourselves wide open at the back, and undoubtedly grateful early on that Bendtner was on their team - of course we wuz robbed. Dzeko had a shocker, with his purple patch in October/November now long forgotten and a veritable host of chances casually wasted. I'm struggling with Nasri I must admit, and can't really figure out which position he is supposed to be playing in, hovering languidly on the left flank as he was before switching with AJ to slightly greater effect (though AJ was by far the bigger threat throughout) a little later. I'm increasingly of the mind that Nasri really was a player too far after all, and was happy when Bobby hooked him for Merlin. When the coloured continent (thanks Alan!) beckons later this month, I fear for us without the persistent and unpredictable talents of the mighty Yaya.
But before that, the first of many closer threats loom in the shape of the Scousers tonight. King Kenny's men up the 62 with a spring in their step and a hearty 'negrito' hello to Mario from them all I'm sure. Could be another mugging, but let's wait and see.