These are the days of Wimbledon. Soon it will be the Tour de France. United won the League a short while ago. Barcelona smashed them in the Champions League final. The Superbowl is always a wonderful spectacle as is the Stanley Cup. McIlroy won the Open. The Williams sisters are in decline. Tiger Woods is in the Dog Box. Even synchronized swimming can grab my attention for a while.
What is it that gets billions of people to focus on these events, me included, with a passion that is impossible to define? When it comes to football, the fortunes of Liverpool can ruin or make my week. I hate United and Chelsea and can’t decide which one is worse. Federer is a magician. Lance Armstrong was awesome. For once that much abused word applies. Maradona was far better than Pele. Rooney is a pussy, but at least he comes from Liverpool and not the Spanish Riviera. I hate the foreigners in English football except for those who play for Liverpool.
I love it when underdogs win and the mighty crash and burn. Except for Liverpool. I despair at what Cricket has become. Except for the Tests, the only pure form of the game. The dynamics of test cricket and the complex techniques of the game are on a level that no other sport can ever hope to achieve. I regret not having played it professionally when I had the chance. I was once Kepler Wessels’ captain in the OFS Nuffield team. He was far better than me, but I could have made a go of it.
I did not even play bloody soccer. I was a rugger and cricket boy, attending the correct schools and all that rot. The proles played soccer. My father despised soccer players and I adored my father. While the Boks can move me to tears, my heart lies with the All Blacks. Can’t stand the Poms. Love it when they lose. The Aussies are a loveable, simple lot. I have no idea where my passion for The Reds even started. But there you have it. They get me through dark days and nights and plunge me into despair. Gerrard’s thigh injury is just as important to me as the Greek financial crisis. No, more important. Having him in full flower next season will win us the league. Compared to that the Greeks can sell their islands for all I care.
I really don’t like shrinks but they would certainly have a term for all this. Pressure valves and all that. But that’s not it. Its way beyond that.
The thing is, that I hate football fans whenever they get together. The larger the crowd the more I hate them. But not the Kop. Except for my small group of Liverpool fans that get all passionate when they are not singing or conducting, it’s the Kop that gets my blood boiling and brings tears to my eyes. The greatest club on earth because of the greatest fans on earth.
I could just ramble on and on about all this.