IT’S NOT COMING HOME

2 12 2010

Well there it is;  the World Cup 2018 will not be coming home to the nation that gave football to the world.

Instead it is off to Russia and whilst I  have nothing but congratulations for the newly affirmed host nation I can’t help but feel a little disappointed that by the time it is even possible for their to be a world cup hosted here in England I will be old and grey.

The lift that a successful world cup bid would have given to the nation would have been huge and not just for die-hard supporters such as I.

The suggestion that this is all one big fix are rolling in and will continue to do so for sometime, not helped by the supposed official leaks that were coming out up to 30 minutes before the results were announced lauding Russia as having won.

One thing that does need to be seriously looked into is the allegations of major corruption within FIFA itself, the thought of going through an other bidding process with the same bribe taking officials in charge is quite frankly ludicrous.

But there is no point lingering on what might have been and what isn’t, instead we should look forward to the spectacle that will be London 2012 and focus on what really matters trying to win the world cup in 2014.

 





The wait is over :)

11 06 2010

It’s been 4 years but the wait is over.

The World Cup is here again; normally I avoid writing anything about football (soccer for our colonial cousins) as normally the discussions spiral round and round and round about who is signing who or which player/team/coach etc is the best…yawn

But I am genuinely excited about  the World Cup, I always have been since I was a child and watched Italia 90 at home.

I am always more than a little amused at myself as it is also the only time that I have any vaguely patriotic feelings at all about the UK.

It is strange I go through life feeling a generally pleasant ambivalence to the country of my birth but then every 4 years I suddenly feel this unfamiliar pang of pride and anticipation.

Maybe it is nothing more than the fact that England is the birthplace of the modern game (some claim the game full stop) and even though we get humbled at it quite regularly we did succeed in giving the world one of the few genuinely unifying things that it has; 22 men kicking an inflated bladder around.








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