Kick in the nads anyone?
Football is an odd mistress. You spend lots of money on her and get very little back, you treat her well and end up getting kicked in the teeth, you're very loyal but she just laughs at your weakness. You tend to realise all of this on a regular basis being a Mansfeld Town fan. Just when you think you're getting on well football ends up cutting up all of your clothes and locking you out of the house as punishment for getting too complacent.
Watching your back has become almost habitual with football, never be too sure that this might be it, that you might actually be happy with football, because its only a short while before football lets you know who's boss. Most football devotees have more down days with football than up - which makes it all the more amazing that we actually entertain this mistress at all.
Football currently seems to be embarking on a particularly cruel and sadistic regime of giving me a kick in the nads once a fortnight, i'm not entirely sure why she's taking this course of action. Maybe she's bored because the season has ended, maybe she's just taken a dislike to me or maybe im not the man she thought i was. Who knows what ive done. Two weeks ago Mansfield were deprived of promotion in the cruelest fashion at the Millennium Stadium losing on penalties to Huddersfield, tonight France scored twice in the last minute to move from 1-0 losers to 2-1 winners. Much to the amusement of the Scots and Welsh I would guess, who, in a touch of irony seem to get most of their football pleasures from an English defeat. Football recently seems to be getting a big kick out of my anguish.
Im going to stay in bed in two weeks time so football cant find me to deliver her ritual pain, although if i am discovered i'm hoping its something a little more original than outright defeat and devastation. Its getting predictable.
I could go into a large full scale review of tonights rendezvous with football, but im conscious that I don't get many visitors to this blog and I don't want to risk losing the odd one or two that I do have. So I wont bother.
Suffice to say that I'll be back on Thursday for the next date with football armed with flowers and a big box of chocolates hoping i get invited back to hers.
Watching your back has become almost habitual with football, never be too sure that this might be it, that you might actually be happy with football, because its only a short while before football lets you know who's boss. Most football devotees have more down days with football than up - which makes it all the more amazing that we actually entertain this mistress at all.
Football currently seems to be embarking on a particularly cruel and sadistic regime of giving me a kick in the nads once a fortnight, i'm not entirely sure why she's taking this course of action. Maybe she's bored because the season has ended, maybe she's just taken a dislike to me or maybe im not the man she thought i was. Who knows what ive done. Two weeks ago Mansfield were deprived of promotion in the cruelest fashion at the Millennium Stadium losing on penalties to Huddersfield, tonight France scored twice in the last minute to move from 1-0 losers to 2-1 winners. Much to the amusement of the Scots and Welsh I would guess, who, in a touch of irony seem to get most of their football pleasures from an English defeat. Football recently seems to be getting a big kick out of my anguish.
Im going to stay in bed in two weeks time so football cant find me to deliver her ritual pain, although if i am discovered i'm hoping its something a little more original than outright defeat and devastation. Its getting predictable.
I could go into a large full scale review of tonights rendezvous with football, but im conscious that I don't get many visitors to this blog and I don't want to risk losing the odd one or two that I do have. So I wont bother.
Suffice to say that I'll be back on Thursday for the next date with football armed with flowers and a big box of chocolates hoping i get invited back to hers.
