Saturday 19 December 2009
In spite of my late night, today I awaken around 8.30AM feeling knackered, freezing and mildly in pain. Yesterday was worth a week in exercise as my walking experience proved excessive and ultimately unnecessary. A bad excuse for nothing.
As I look out of the window the world (Essex) is still awash with snow which I would like to describe and compare as/to a blizzard. Obviously I am being silly here but in comparison to the lack of action those fannies in London got yesterday I feel justified in my hyperbole and resentment.
Quickly I drag myself out of bed and head down Layer Road to the paper shop to do my first Saturday paper run on feet in a very very long time. The walk is painful and miserable, didn’t I walk enough yesterday? The short walk to and from the shop feels like it lasts forever.
Today was supposed to be my big Christmas shopping day of 2009. Originally I had intended to hit the ground running and bound into the stores at the crack of dawn and buy everything in one go. Now however bearing in mind my movements of yesterday and the way I feel today I just want a day of doing nothing.
Upon returning home I head straight back to bed and listen to the Danny Baker show. As I endeavour to get comfortable in bed I can’t help but fidget as my legs begin to ache a ridiculous amount. Keeping still is what will kill me today. When the Danny Baker show ends I remain in bed and listen to Fighting Talk, officially I now don’t expect to get anything accomplished today. Briefly I had toyed with the best intentions of the idea of walking into town and shopping that way but where is the fun in that?
Eventually around lunchtime I begin to murmur and beyond a couple of aborted attempts to write I instead find myself watching my download of Watchmen. After about an hour of this (fun as it was) I slope off back to bed to where the warm place is.
After basically giving up on the day when I awaken later in the afternoon I flip on Final Score where the show keeps reporting back from The Valley where Millwall today are involved in a local derby with Charlton and have gone 2-0 up early on through the previously seemingly useless Steve Morison. Annoyingly though we fuck up by giving away two penalties, the second of which on the 38th minute sees Jimmy Abdou sent off allowing Charlton to come back into the game. Inevitably in the second half Charlton take the lead but miraculously in the 81st minute Dave Martin pulls it back to 3-3. Typically though a few minutes later Morison completes a freak hat-trick by putting through his own net giving Charlton a 4-3 lead. Happily though before the game ends Final Score goes back to The Valley to report a goal from Danny Schofield two minutes into injury time. The game ends at 4-4 which was not expected but does drum home how Millwall tend to over perform against the “big boys” of the division. Omens suddenly feel good as over the past few seasons Millwall were always the team that let goals in during injury time but last year suddenly the roles reversed and Wall were getting the late goals which ultimately saw them reaching the play off final. Even though the division appears more difficult this season we are hanging in there.
Ironically the only time I have ever seen a 4-4 game was when Charlton played at Ipswich years ago in 1990.
Elsewhere in football today there is another high scoring game at Manchester City where they only manage to scrape past Sunderland 4-3. At the close of the match Final Score shows Mark Hughes making an exceptionally lengthy gesture to the Manchester City fans and immediately rumours circulate that this has been his last match in charge.
Eventually I find myself watching Dances With Wolves on BBC2 which is something I never imagined I would ever do. The lengths I am going to today to avoid the cold.
Sure enough an hour or so later the dismissal of Mark Hughes is confirmed and nobody is really surprised although to do it just before Christmas does seem straight out of a football version of A Christmas Carol. I guess this comes from having a Muslim for a boss. For the longest time I have said that the club can pump at much money into it and buy all the players in the world but they need a decent manager. It was always obvious Hughes was over his head and out of his depth in this role but having started the season with him in charge the club should have stuck behind their decision/man. To see them now dismiss him at this time at a point when the club has done decently if not amazingly does severely bring into question the ethical stance of the new owners (investors) of the club and their ability to run a football club. Once more Manchester City reveal themselves as being the latest big money villains of football having replaced Chelsea when the football equivalent of the Iron Sheik took over.
Early evening there is a knock at my door which I at first ignore it but when it hits again I feel obliged to answer. When I do it is a middle aged man I do not recognise. He introduces him as the person that leaves beneath and he tells me how he has put some salt down outside our apartment block after his wife slipped over. I respond “cool” in a “I could care less” manner and immediately after closing the door on him I feel that I have been rude but it echoes how unimpressed I am. Sometimes gratitude is not one of my strengths.
Soon the evening begins to kick in and before I know it the time has reached 9PM and quite frankly I have accomplished/achieved nothing with my day. Tonight the big movies are Blade Runner on BBC2 and Love Actually on ITV to which I actually opt for the latter. What on earth is going on with me? I remember when this movie first came on DVD; I bought it for mum for her birthday and spent a Friday night in watching it while also feeling soppy towards the older Muslim sister. I was such a wet bastard at that time (2003 and pre-blog).
Needless to say I fall asleep before the end of the movie, which still feels like something of an abortion with its overreaching efforts and sentiments. If ever there was a movie that spread itself too thinly then it was Love Actually. Fortunately when I reawaken the TV is now showing Igby Goes Down, that thinly veiled version of The Catcher In The Rye. Despite loving this film I don’t last five minutes peaking at it.
Life in the fast lane.