'The Last Chance Saloon'
It is much more likely, however, that a couple of dismal draws and an undeserved victory will be followed by elimination in the knock-out stages by a team of greater composure and self-belief such as France or Germany, in which case events on the pitch will almost perfectly mirror events in the political arena! For 'Krauts Give Tel Hell!' read 'Krauts Cause Major Headache!'...the message is the same, simply transposed from front page to back, and vice versa. Both may or may not "go down fighting", but the superiority of the foreigners will eventually assert itself whatever.
Ironically, in view of the probable results being the same, while we cannot stand the battle within the EU, we cannot wait for the battle within UEFA. Major vs. Kohl might be a dead loss as a contest (with the former conceding far too much weight and experience to the latter), but Newcastle vs. Kaiserslautern will thrill millions who have no connection with Tyneside but nevertheless enjoy a good scrap. "Getting into Europe" may be anathema to ministers but not to managers, for whom it is a lucrative goal. So why is it that we are prepared to integrate and co-operate with our European neighbours on sporting issues yet run screaming for the smelling salts at any suggestion of 'harmonisation' or federalism?
The reason lies partly in the diversity that European football offers. Traditionally, English teams charge around at 100 m.p.h. with plenty of heart but little skill; the Germans display ruthless efficiency and no sense of humour; the Italians are incredibly skilful and unbelievably lazy by turns (and spend too much time writhing around on the ground having tripped over a rogue blade of grass); and the Scots...well, the team's always crap but their fans can drink more than the rest put together and only ever fight against the English! Stereotypical perhaps, but nevertheless true!
In contrast, the aim of the EU seems to be to destroy individuality, enforce conformity and create an almost totalitarian superstate in which the member countries are denied the freedom to be different. Worse still, the complete absence of any democratic mandate encourages the lunatics running the asylum to believe they can do anything they wish, as long as it is printed in triplicate in 15 languages. Thus our beef is banned all over the world despite the startling admission from the Commission that there is nothing wrong with it!
However, rather than risk 'a scene', we bow and scrape before our 'partners' in the pathetic hope that they will suddenly lift the ban with an airy gesture. In common with the deranged Crystal Palace fan who attacked the prosecution lawyer at the conclusion of his trial for provoking Eric Cantona, the government has a serious lesson to learn: the most significant damage you can do to a foe, whether a solitary lawyer or a bunch of jumped-up, bumptious bureaucrats, is to wallop him, her or it where it most hurts - in the pocket! Threaten to withdraw our 'contributions' to the great Euro-racket, and I think you will find the beef ban lifted pretty swiftly. Why? Because for every quid we receive from the EU, we hand over two! We trade at a huge deficit with the rest of Europe, despite achieving a surplus with the rest of the world. Etcetera, etcetera....
Another explanation for this dichotomy of attitude is that spectators at a European Cup match are not forced through the turnstiles at the whim of the organisers, without the opportunity to voice dissent. They are they because they wish to be there and, as importantly, are prepared to pay for the privilege, even if the result is unsatisfactory. As regards the EU, we cannot vote the whole corrupt bunch into oblivion, for the officials are unelected. The argument for a referendum grows with each new crazed anti-British judgement from Brussels or Luxembourg, although this is undermined by the pathetic efforts of the government to seek redress from the self-same institutions that came to the original damaging decisions. It is akin to a pedestrian who has just been robbed in the street approaching the mugger a few moments later and requesting the loan of a few bob!
It appears that Dear John and his band of sorry men are unable, or unwilling, to learn from their catalogue of mistakes and reverses. Successful teams only win trophies when the manager is in full command of his squad. Were Alex Ferguson to wander about the Manchester United dressing room asking each of his players in turn how the team should play, and then base his tactics on a hotchpotch of all the replies for fear of offending anyone, he would never win a match! Man. Utd. would be lucky to be in the same division as AFC Bournemouth, let alone AC Milan! Yet Dear John resolutely refuses to impose his will on anyone or anything, from Big Helmut down to Humphrey, the Downing Street cat. Paralysed by the fear of having to make an actual decision, he resembles the proverbial 'rabbit in the headlights', blinking and nibbling (and probably sh**ting himself as well!) as yet another seminal event speeds towards, and past, him.
Hard as it is to believe, we have currently a Conservative government so impoverished of ideas and lacking in support from its own back-benchers that almost the only piece of legislation planned for the present term, the unwanted and unnecessary 'Divorce Reform Bill', had to be voted through by the Labour Party!!! So terrified is John of dissent within his own party, he has planned a record three month recess for the idle sods, in the hope that they will all bugger off abroad and stop whingeing. As long as Parliament is in session, embarrasment follows humiliation with military precision. In the last few weeks alone, the continuing crisis over beef has been compounded by disastrous local election results (although the fact that it was only the second worst result in the party's history was bafflingly portrayed as a triumph!), a disgraceful case of gerrymandering in Westminster and the refusal of MPs to comply with the Nolan Report by revealing their outside earnings.
This last point has been treated sympathetically by some commentators, who believe that the extra lolly raked in by Members is a private matter. This would be more credible if those concerned were not continually whining that they are seriously underpaid and deserve 60% increases in remuneration. Are we to believe that bloated queens like Ted Heath or revolting squirts like David Mellor would receive a brass farthing from anyone if they were not MPs? And if they are so overworked, as they claim, how do they find so much time to carry out all these extra-curricular activities and dubious consultancies?
If Major's government was a football team, it would have been relegated months ago. As it is, Dear John will continue to slump helplessly at the bar of 'The Last Chance Saloon', watching the real competition fought out on television and helpless to intervene, tortured by the knowledge that he could have secured a starring role for himself. Instead he faces oblivion and a record that makes Graham Taylor's seem glorious by comparison. After all, for what positive deed can he be remembered?
According to my cut-out-and-keep wall chart, absolutely sweet FA!
There have been a number of cases in recent months which reveal the increasingly psychopathic nature of the nation's children. Serious acts of violence, from vandalism to murder, seem commonplace.
After the tragic killing of Jamie Bulger by two young lads in Liverpool, the country took in a huge breath and determined that such a horrible act should never be repeated. Only a few weeks ago, however, a 13 year old was kicked to death by a group of youngsters in Corby. All those involved were girls!
Prior to that, the Wilding family from Nottingham briefly captured the headlines. It was revealed that politically correct council busy-bodies had reversed a headmaster's decision to exclude an extremely violent pupil. Young Richard Wilding, a fat, piggy-eyed bully, had been cautioned on umpteen occasions for a whole range of offences at school. When the head came to the sad but right conclusion that the poisonous little git be removed permanently, the bleeding-hearts went into overdrive. Suddenly the poor little piggy was a 'victim' of 'society'; his revolting parents were moaning to the press about their 'rights'; and the poor headmaster was suddenly portrayed as a cross between Goebbels and Attila the Hun.
It is the parents, inevitably, who must take responsibility for bringing up children to respect authority, differentiate between right and wrong, and attempt to lead vaguely worthwhile lives. It is not acceptable to pass this duty to teachers.
As was revealed at the annual NUT Conference, teachers are unable to dress themselves in the morning, are unintelligible and semi-illiterate, and display all the dignity and poise of the members of Oasis.
Without the charm!
is Eric Cantona, for no good reason other than he is a typically arrogant French twat! Moreover, he is extremely ugly, waffles on meaninglessly about seagulls and trawlers, calls his critics 'toilets' and thinks he can paint.
Lest anyone think this is simply sour grapes at the continuing success of Manchester United, I can assure you of this...
I hated the bastard when he was at Leeds, too!
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