Cheryl We Love U
There doesn’t seem to be a man alive (or woman, to be frank) who doesn’t love this poppet from the Tyne. I’ve been told I might need to move over soon…
There’s going to be stiff competition for her affections, but something leaves a bad taste in the mouth about this whole business other than the pictures of broken-hearted, yet brave, Cheryl. Along with the Terry/Bridge debacle the bitterness seems to be around the well-worn tabloid theme of footballers behaving badly. Why should we expect them all to always behave well though? Because they can kick a ball? That skill does not a moral compass make. I must be getting old because I can nearly boil the malaise of the English football squad down to one thing: gratification. And they are not alone in that. Society as a whole has run rampant down the route of see it, want it, get it.
If we win the World Cup this year on the back of all this bad behaviour I will eat my hat, sunglasses and Racing Post. If there is no discipline in the man then how can there be any in the team, even with Mr Bossy from the Land of Boot itself in charge?
I’m not a moralising old bag either (not yet anyway). I think love is something that cannot be legislated for, but persistently refusing to keep your pants on, or your card in your wallet is just slack. Will I fit into the Daily Mail *spit* yet and where is Ironsides when you need him?
Why do I care? Well I don’t think I do really. I am just irked at the thought of going into the World Cup in this shoddy manner. I don’t care what Capello says; leaving the door open a crack for Bridge this morning seems to misunderstand the intentions of the only man who has come out of this latest tale of woe with any credit. Honour is more important to some people than even the World Cup Fabio.
Anyway back to the beautiful and wronged Cheryl, not that her chasing a glittering pop career will have affected poor Ashley’s ego any…