Ramblings on Argieball and other nonsense
Monthly Archives: March 2011
The press corps gosh and golly as the man of the hour approaches. They can just about glimpse him in the ante-chamber, all stubble and cigarettes, an awe-inspiring sight of rippling manliness. They coo like pigeons hand-fed with golden grain as his lips – those lips! – let fall little drops of Miltonic majesty, his trademark claro, dale and boludo. The warmth from those dark eyes turn their souls to so much margarine. He speaks with the unadorned authority of a master craftsman, whispers one. A latin Jesus, sighs another. But hark, he’s here! Lights, camera, action!
Click on the link to read on. It’s short and silly. Continue reading
Still, by far the most intriguing aspects of the interview are those considering the Barca way. Masche’s not the first Barca man we’ve heard make these statements but the idea that he’s echoing others’ views is arguably even more ‘worrying’ (worrying like a lack of milk or sugar, not worrying in the sense of unexplainable lumps on your person or being confronted by Joe Jordan riding a sabre-toothed mammoth). Barcelona seem to have convinced themselves they are in fact Jesus and are calling out, in the most un-Nietzschean way imaginable, for some Judas to betray them so they can be nailed to a crossbar and martyred and redeem football for its sins. Despite their considerable haul of late, they appear to be fixated with NOT winning trophies, as if Inter Milan were some kind of dirty collection of tax collectors (though they probably are). Indeed, in retrospect perhaps their coach trip to Milan last year was engineered to emulate Joshua Ga-Nozri entering Jerusalem on a donkey.
“People remember Cruyff’s Holland team even though they didn’t win anything. that’s worth something.,” says Mascherano. Perhaps, but these dasy people remember Cruyff’s Holland team even though they didn’t win anything because every five minutes someone from Barcelona says people remember Cruyff’s Holland team even though they didn’t win anything. You’re top of the league and playing a notoriously spineless Arsenal team at home with an away goal. If you don’t go through, you don’t get martyr status. Besides there are plenty of crap martyrs, and pegamequemegusta didn’t think martyrdom was very fashionable these days anyway. It’s all very General Boulanger. In any case, if you are going to be martyred, you may as well show some balls, go out screaming insults at the whorish wife of the Tetrarch rather than meekly faffing about in a garden muttering about a bad smell. Continue reading