Oh woe is me that should place so much faith in those that are so fragile. We left upon our journey knowing that the task exceeded our ability to achieve. However, it is the nature of our defeat that brings one so low. We neither trusted fully in the young or the wisdom of experience. On the positive side we should now be spared the opinions of these so called experts, the pundits of which we have many. I am thinking in particular those pundits from the celtic lands of Scotland and Wales. I so wish the anchor person if they would asked these pundits just one question on my behalf, “Excuse me, did your country even qualify? Oh, yes, that’s right, you did not. So please be silent”. To the others from our homeland then they should ask themselves if they were any better, because I don’t think so. They have short, selective memories.
Roy, bless his heart did his best as did so many of the team. The ones that failed did so because they were simply found out to be not that good, and we need not named names. I do not think for one moment that they lack desire and passion and indeed in the first game they played very well. The shortcomings of a defence that lacked communication and cohesion can and will be address in time for the next campaign. The lack of a John Terry type character is painful and he more than anyone is the person we really did need. They have time to work on building a good defence and the forwards were wonderful.
The future is bright, it really is and I am thankful that we have had the good sense to keep Roy as manager. This though is football and we shall pick ourselves up and get ready for the next dream. I thought this blog would be more a rant and yet it is not. I have so final words to say on Wayne Rooney. I rather think his problem is that he tries to hard and there are plenty of good players who never settle into the international game.
Raise your glasses to Europe!
Oh woe is me that hath see our brave boys fail once again. Pain Doony played very well and even managed on a few occasions to kick the ball. Our young lions were outstanding. But, it has to be understood that they have yet to sucumb to the malaise that is England. They will though, have no fear on that score and then once we have removed their confidence and natural skills then they will be able to hoff it up the field in the general direction of the opposing terrace. The number of times they actually had the ball on target was astonishing. But, once the old guard had, had a word with them they will soon be hoofing it over the cross bar like our lads of old. Our goalie pretty boy Harty was so good that I saw that he was able to take time off during the break to advertise hair shampoo and still get back on the pitch in time. Roy, poor Roy he is starting to worry me with all of these late nights, for it is not good for him to be up this late. The number of times the poor old chap had his head in his hands and swearing in one of the many languages that he knows is a worry. However, we must be of good heart chaps. There is still time and we have two more games left in which to give a good account of ourselves. Rumors that Roy has been see trying to get on a plane out of the country are not true. He said that he was just checking to see if the plane was ok for carrying the team and the cup itself. Roy told our mole that during the next game we are to look out for some new tactics. Our back four (Apparently they are called defenders) are to be replaced with Royal Marines. The mid field will be bolstered by a detachment from the parachute regiment. And this has to be kept secret, I mean really secret……. Our strike force is going to be two RAF typhoons with a Harrier fighter jet sitting in the hole.
What is education if it not something that allows the child to be what it can be. I rather conclude that the purpose of our failed education system is to provide workers to fuel the bank balances of the unworthy. I hear it said that we are all equal. What utter rubbish. We are all unique and just like the pieces of a global jigsaw puzzle we come together to create Eden.
Aspirations are not sought but rather implanted in young minds. You must have a nice house, car, clothes and all the trappings of what passes for the fashion of the day. Those few that rile against this are declare weird and must be reeducated. Is it not wonderful to see someone not being so much different as just being themselves. There is room for them, is there not? When I see the daily ebb and flow of traffic carrying the work force to their destination then I do wonder how many failed dreams are there to be found. The factory worker who was born with the gift of art and once whose eyes understood the beauty around him or her, and yet those eyes are now dimmed with the knowledge that, that time has come and gone.
However, it is not all gloom and doom, truly it is not. I recall here in Iceland seeing a elderly gentleman learning to play a musical instrument, and doing so along in the company of much younger classmates. You see here in Iceland is not at all unusual to see more senior people still within the education system. Even in the United Kingdom the success of the Open University proves beyond a shadow of doubt that there is a passion to learn. A desire to kindle that little spark deep inside and to be what they wanted to be, but life just got in the way. Education along with medicine has to be free. The more people who have and continue to drink from the well of knowledge will repay society many times over.
I started this blog with the question about whether education is wasted on the young. Actually it is not, at least for the most part it is not. However, we do need to ensure that schools are allowed to develop the child and not to fail the child because their heart beats to a different drum.
For those that dwell in lands that endure long winters and short summers then the time of summer is very special. Those few months each year when we have to do so much and yet we still find time to play. We are in accord with nature, we always are, we have to be and we are Nordic. It has been many weeks now under the constant Sun and it will be many more yet before the darkness that has retreated to the southern part of the globe will return, but we know it will for it is the cycle of life and that is how is should be.
The land of Iceland divides into those that take long and well earned vacations and for others that work with nature then it is a very busy time. Farmers are now cutting grass that will see them through the long dark winter. Fishermen, are far out to sea seeking their catch that will help fuel the nation.
This is also a time of visitors, strange and exotic languages can be heard now. Pictures are taken and memories laid down to be shared perhaps on the other side of the world. I wonder what they will say of their visit? I wonder if they give a thought for how the landscapes must now look under the blanket of winter, perhaps not. Iceland that strange country far to the north, sitting as it does in mid way between the old and new worlds. Its people so old and its land so very young. Should you ever find yourself here in my Iceland then understand that this land is rather like a book and not a movie. You have to take time to turn the pages and read her wisdom, for she has no time for those seeking instant gratification.
Our mole and the boys from dear old blighty have left Florida for Brasil. They leave with the heads held high, due to the rising water on the pitch. Pain Doony played very well, once he had adjusted to playing in wellington boots and not his normal hobnail jobs. Roy, told our mole that Oxo is going to be fit for the games ahead. It seems the Turkey fat plus the ministrations of our witch doctor did the trick. Roy tells our reporter that he has yet to make his mind up over using wellies rather than the standard hobnail boot. Only saying that wellingtons are wonderful and swell because they keep out the water and keep in the smell. Harty our handsome keeper has been working really hard on stopping the ball and we yet to hear if FIFA will allow him the use of a shotgun to deflect the ball. This comes after reports that some of our defenders have complained about getting gun pellets in their butts. Well, all is well that ends well and now as we cruise south through the evening sky. The glow of the setting sun illuminates the cabin and gives a rather pretty hue to our team sitting in economy. Some are sleeping and others are munching away on snacks while watching movies. However, it is time now for our mole in first class to have his entree of sea bass and chips, washed down with a rather nice Sauvignon blanc from the Faroe isles. I believe the boys back in cattle class are having boiled chicken and cola. It is true the life of a modern day footy player is one of luxury.
Despite several attempts to have our mole removed from the England camp I can confirm that he is still there, But he has had to take steps to disguise himself. Our plucky mole endured a right old kicking when he made the mistake of pretending to be a ball. Fortunately, whilst taking penalty kicks Geraldo kicked him so hard that he ended up onto of the stadium roof. Always looking on the bright side he did say that he did not want anymore kids anyway.
Roy, continues to fine tune our lads into the peak of perfection. Our mole tells us that he is most concerned about a player called Oxo, who he reports to be our secret weapon. They have sent for some turkey fat and the services of a witch doctor from Croydon. Apparently this Croydon place is the centre of physic energy for Britain. I can also confirm that Roy did have a moody on with the British press over the continued questions regarding Pain Doony. Now that he has got that off of is chest he is looking forward to winning the tournament.
We play Ecuador. Our plucky boys face the South American stars in this epic battle. Chelsea tractor Lampers and Pain Dooney have each been given the wisdom of Roy Obision on how to win the game. The younguns will have to wait as we cannot keep the old guys up to late or they tend to get a bit crotchety. Pretty boy Harty has at last vacated the hair saloon (Because he is worth it, apparently) and has started laying mines in front of his goal. Some new chap called Starling has been fined for taking all of this too seriously and has had his scooted ball taken away and been sent to bed for being a naughty boy. Our mole reports that the game was drawn two – two. Which is jolly nice as we can call take something away from this. Pain Dooney added that he like playing out wide as it gave his more opportunity to shout encouragement to our supporters. However, some reported were in tears because they said he was being nasty to them again. Oh, dear. Roy, calm everyone down and said he would put Pain on the naughty step later.
World Cup News: More information hath been discovered by our mole in the English camp regarding Pain Doony. Information suggests that he will not start in any of the games because it has been discovered that he has a problem, he can’t play footy. This infection seems to be spreading in the camp as Lampers that well know Chelsea tractor hath now said that he has had enough of this crap and will start a new life playing tiddly winks. More later as our mole unearthed this stuff.
Update of our quest to win the world cup thingy. Well our leader Roy Hoggysons and his brave bunch of chaps are ready to take on Johnny Foreigner in the ignoble game of scooter. Our chaps have taken well to the training and now have been shown pictures of what a goal actually looks like, it has been a long time for some of the more senior boys, ha, sorry chaps. The novel approach advanced training methods of instructing our chaps that it is ok to hang on to the ball and they need not feel the urge to give it to the other team. This has been traced to a deep set need to be loved and we have just got to stop feeling that we have to involve the other side. said an unnamed person close to the team. Well chaps good luck and we shall issue more reports as and when we get them. Peace and love, peace and love.
Good evening people of the planet Earthy. I have received yet another message from the other side. Unfortunately, I did not understand a bloody word of it. But, from what I did understand then it told me to put a lot of money of England winning the world cup. Apparently all of the old england stars that have passed over are going to help out. There is some chappy playing for us called Pain Doony or something or other and he will be the conduit for the dark forces gathering. The boss Roy orbison, I think that is the chap has been feeding the boys raw meat and real ale. The goali pretty boy harty has been told to put chicken wire in front of the goal. I will pass on more of the exclusive information when I get it.
What is footy anyway? Some rudy working class game I suppose. Play a proper game like Ruger or whatever. Rolling around in the mud grappling with some other chap with an odd shaped ball, Not sure I meant that, Ah, yes, sillly old duffer, He’s not the one with an odd shape ball, rather old boy they are playing with an odd shape ball. Bloody fine chaps, good eggs all of them, unlike those oiks who play bloody scooter.