Decision time approaches. I've been reading up on the issues at hand, taking advice from those I respect and looking deep into my soul. But I still find myself unable to pick a country at which to rage for the duration of Euro 2008.
Who will I be supporting? Don't know. V knows though. Traditionally, in every major tournament containing year, V gets me a football top for my birthday. His choice seems to be mostly based on aesthetics rather that any footballing considerations and thus I found myself supporting Germany in the last World Cup. The stylish red and black away kit it was, which they never fucking wore as the compettion was held in, yes, Germany, with the name 'Schweinsteiger' emblazoned across the shoulders. 'G'wan Pig Farmer!' I would scream at the oversized screen in Finbar's basement, lacking as I am in even the most basic German.
On a side note, might I suggest avoiding spending a World Cup anywhere in the Okanagan Valley. It's not that Canadians are unable to grasp the more intricate subtleties of football, or even that they are incapable of referring to the beautiful game as anything other than 'soccer', it's more that they haven't got a fucking clue and that they keep fucking saying 'soccer'.
Once the Krauts got knocked out, I switched my allegiance to Italy. Because I have Italian cousins, because I felt in my water that they were going to win and most of all because I fancy the hole off Paolo Maldini. Oh Paolo. Oh baby. Gaze upon my unworthy visage with those deep, heart-breaking eyes and I am yours to use as you please. You name it, Paolo mio caro, and I'll do it.
So yeah, I'm supporting the team whose top will arrive, like everything V related, right on time. And once they go out, I'll move to my default Eye-Tie position.
But who gives a fuck about that? Not me. The big question for Gimme remains: Who will be the recipient of his focused bile, his undiluted scorn, all of his footballing wrath? And why is this the big question? Because I get more joy from hate than love. That's the kind of cunt that I am.
Normally, there would be no head scratching, no hair pulling, no breast beating. But those inconsiderate, incompetent Britlanders, despite having one or two allegedly world-class players, miserably failed to qualify. So who will it be? Austria (Nazi cunts)? Greece (jammy cunts)? Switzerland (Nazi helper jammy cunts)? or Russia (Chelsea cunts)?
What say you?
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Wednesday, June 4, 2008