Good morning.
It’s a bank holiday weekend here in Ireland the sun is still shining. What a miracle. As such, today’s blog will be short. I realise I say this often enough, but then prattle on for ages, almost to regular blog length. Today I am determined to stick to my word.
I didn’t mention the FA Cup final yesterday because I honestly forgot it was on. I had a choice between sitting in the back garden in the sunshine, making delicious food and drinking cold beer, or watching the game. Can you guess which choice I made? Correct. I made pizza, and a sandwich made with pizza dough which was off the charts, even if I do say so myself.
I put the football on the TV inside so I could have a look at what was going on as I was coming in and out to get ingredients and such, but honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever been less interested in an FA Cup final. The only one I can remember that caused a similar feeling of indifference was when Aston Villa played Chelsea. I can’t remember exactly when that was.
I have to go look this up.
🎵Play looking stuff up on Google music🎵
That was the year 2000, it turns out. Chelsea won 1-0 thanks to a goal from Roberto di Matteo and George Weah played up front for them (that’s definitely one of those ‘I know that happened but it sort of seems like I dreamed it’ things that football gives you). I genuinely can’t remember many of the finals since, but that one sticks in my mind because of how much I didn’t care for any of the goings-on of that day.
I saw the handball thing yesterday, and of course it’s ludicrous that something like that is a penalty, but then I remember one game this season (Bournemouth?) when there were about 10 of them and we didn’t get one penalty. So when people say ‘Yes, it’s absurd but that’s the rule ACKSHALLY!’, I want to say ‘Oh, is it the rule?! Well, my rule says here’s a angry velociraptor, see if you can outrun him’.
The other thing I think of is that whatever that is bad that befalls Man City, they deserve it. It ultimately didn’t cost then anything yesterday, so they won’t care, but if there’s a dubious handball next season and their stadium immediately collapses into a giant sinkhole, they can’t have any complaints. The away fans/players miraculously survive, unless they’re Tottenham. They can’t have any complaints either.
I feel like I’m prattling. I’m going outside to enjoy the sunshine. I wish you all a very happy Sunday.
