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.
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