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I've just been watching Star Trek: The Next Generation, Geordi was attempting to restore warp power by completely realigning the plasma conduits feeding the warp coils, silly twat. Everyone knows you just need to adjust the concentration of the dilithium in the warp core crystals and wait for them to slowly take effect. I know he's blind, but how could he not see that? He's Chief Engineer of the Enterprise for crying out loud!

It's because Geordi's approach to engineering is much the same as the string of cabillionaire football club owners' attempts to buy the Premiership. You'd think winning the Premier League would be easy if money was no option, just buy in a job lot of super-stars and sit back and enjoy. The theory is often so different from the realty.

As far as I can remember, the only team that's successfully managed to "buy" the league was Blackburn and that was during a period of significantly annoying domination by Manchester United that essentially meant you just needed to do better than them to win it.

They squeaked home and then were relegated soon after. Producing a team that can be competitive over a decade, like restoring warp power, takes patience. Even if you're being attacked by the Borg and whatever the footballing equivalent of that is - being pursued by Manchester United probably.

Mark Hughes was never the man for the job at City. When you've got close to a billion pounds to spend on a football club the very last thing you ought to do is give the authority to spend it to a man who's mental dexterity is akin to one of those sorry sombitches you read about in the Daily Mail who go into hospital for a hernia operation and come out paralysed from the eye-balls down with a mushed up brain after having an anaesthetic injected into their spine by accident by an agency nurse or BTEC student on work experience. You may as well have given the job to Christopher Reeves even if he is dead. Is he dead? He is isn't he?

However, once you decide to keep the man in the big chair, you can't just boot him out after a few months cause you've drawn a string of games and can only eek past Sunderland 4-3. Mark Hughes of course will be fine...he's what I like to call a wine bar manager. Which is to say erm..someone who should be managing a wine bar. Some thing that is more suited to his inability to think logically and where behaving like a cunt is a pre-requisite - but the City fans must be feeling like a right bunch of Charlies after the early season gloatations.

Fortunately for supporters of Championship contender clubs i.e. Arsenal and Chelsea - the A-rabs have replaced him with his Italian counterpart and not someone good. Phew...there was a real danger they might have picked someone decent and challenged for the title, but no they've just repeated their initial mistake which should see City finishing outside the top four.


We've seen two examples this week of why this incarnation of English football is rubbish compared to it's golden era of the early 80's - when shiny kits and big tashes were the norm and a central defender had to 'Reeves' a striker before he was shown a yellow card. Footballers still earned a wage that could fit on one sheet of his pay slip and John Motson was just beginning his decent into lunacy.


Richard Keys seemed genuinely perplexed and angry even, that Wolves had put out a second eleven against Manchester United in mid-week. More so in fact than when I quizzed him some years ago about his prejudice towards Arsenal and asked his partner if she likes to do it doggy doggy.

Keys' is for all intents and purposes a cave-man in a shiny suit, so perhaps we shouldn't be too hard on him, but since I know someone reads my blog to him - let me explain to him why his comments were rather duplicitous.

Sky take every opportunity to tell us we have the best footballing 'product' in the world and that they are largely responsible for that. But it's the money they have ploughed into the game that causes episodes like Mick McCarthy's team selection.

One's Premier League status has become so important that one has to do whatever is necessary to secure it. Even if it means offering up a game to the punters that is dead as a contest from the kick-off. A sound long-term strategy, but diluting the quality product Sky purports our football to be.

It's also the monies that encourage players to cheat and so often turns the game into a farcical charade - that turns the game into a product if you will. There was none of this in the early 80's. And it's also a myth that the game is more skillful today. It may be faster and the players fitter and more oily of face, but it's not more skillful.

Load up the You-Tubes and watch a game from that era and I'm telling you it's like slipping back into the loving embrace of an ex-girlfriend and enjoying the natural moist warmth of her fleshy goodness after spending many years sating your sexual appetite with expensively bought sex, negotiated and cynical and lubricated by KY jelly and similar emollients.

I think you know what I'm trying to say. I'll bid you good morning.

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Labels: Football, Nonsense, TV