Which are, by all accounts, jolly good for you. This is just as well because the 5%+ alcohol content is less so – especially when consumed in some quantity. The jolly goodness of an odd beer has been amply demonstrated by England against Slovenia yesterday: reportedly Cappello relaxed his regime to allow the Lions a beer the night before the match. Evidently a little kicking back can do the power of good, I may have mentioned this before…
Of course, I am far too classy to get slaughtered over a mere England Group Stage Crunch Football Match; in the absence of Fabio to keep me I line, I got properly mashed up well in advance last week when the Devon Home Cook came to stay. We did around the South of England in Ale. Very nice it was too. I can recommend the Admiral’s (a Cornish Supreme Champion Ale) and the Doom Bar (also Cornwall), although if I can get Adnams (Suffolk) of any kind on draught I am in heaven and I can never pass up a Fuller’s (London Darling) Honeydew. I am not too fussy. The Devon Home Cook is pretty fussy, it goes with the cheffing territory I think.
On the football front yesterday it was what Desailly on ITV said. One swallow does not a summer make, but a few good English ales, laden with healthy antioxidants, will certainly fill the void in the meantime.
P.S. Although the football continues to hog the headlines the amazing longest set ever (longest match ever, most aces served etc.) continues at Wimbledon later. I believe they are 59 games apiece. Truly mind-boggling endurance from the two athletes, Mahut and Isner, both mental and physical. They’ll definitely need a recovery beer after all that.
And one of my top two favourite fillies in training, Seta, runs today at Warwick. Today is a sporting day to be enjoyed with no anxiety, until the next time. Sunday will come too soon.
If things don’t go our way later this evening, or next week, or indeed thereafter let’s blame this:
Fabio says it’s like playing with a *boiled egg. Stevie G says it’s hard to control off the ground. Best hoof it then lads.
Before that excitement we are in Day 4 in Berkshire. Timepiece remains my best result so far, yesterday was a bit of a Royal washout. Today I am commending the chances of a couple of nags, but I don’t know which ones yet…
Watch out for the update.
*I think that’s what he said, he’s a bit of a mumbler.
Cappello has turned the England team into automatons. Saying the right things, leaving the dinner table as one like a herd of elephants, not swearing at the referee…
In this, he seems to have been most successful. Look at them and you will see they are dead behind the eyes. That’s why David is there on the bench (dead behind the eyes too if you ask me), because Cappello knows. He knows they don’t play for him and he hopes DB will have the talismanic effect he has had on the pitch from behind the white lines. It won’t work. Out of the strip, and popped into a team suit David is as emasculated as the rest of them.
Take Milner. Cappello gave out to him as he took him off the other night. Would Bobby Robson have done that. Some say Milner will have overstated his feeling betterishness to the manager. I say, if one of my kids insists they are sound as a pound and can definitely go to Alton Towers for a day I’ll make my own decision thanks.
Cappello has not got them playing from the heart under his system. He has undermined the confidence of the keepers by playing mind games with them in the run-up. At the moment it is only me, Edgar and Bob who can see the truth of the matter. The rest of the English lemmings are blind to the fact that come the second stage we will be going out to:
Of course the tabloid press will have had time to think about these things now (they are slow enough you see) and will jump on my bandwagon. But this is my bandwagon, it’s got makemeadiva painted down the side, and if you need verification just ask the Guv’nor whose ears are bleeding.
Oh and PS – there’s more. It goes along these lines. It’s not just heart (affective domain to borrow from Bloom) it’s even more insidious. Cappello is having a bad effect on the fragile English ego. Not for English players the rock solid overblown Latin self-confidence, our lads need a tad more nurturing (even Wayne).
I know there are others in the coaching team paid to do that, but Fabio it needs to be you too.
This is what the Sporting Life had him down as last night on their site. Not so much a typo perhaps as a Freudian slip?
His mouth was saying one thing and then…
…then followed the grande but, and the most monumental series of shrugs ever seen in a post football match interview.
As for the match review it is going to be easy to pounce on the hapless Green, I have just seen one headline “The Hand of Clod”, but to my reckoning we had some nice spells in the midfield but up front and at the back we would need to see a lot more before we are drinking at the top table.
Same old England it seems.
And I missed Theo Walcott, as Lennon did his best but seemed intent on ploughing a straight furrow. That’s it, it makes me too cross.
*I’ve had my breakfast and a bit of rant so I’ll just update the blog and go out: why does Cappello put so much pace up the wings when they can’t cross into the area or go round a player (at least TW could do the latter)? Why was there a perfect Rooney-shaped pocket nearly all night long, whilst Wayne himself sulked up front as part of an unmatching pair and how is all this goalkeeper uncertainty going to help in the long run…
Cappellow’s lucky he’s not round here for breakfast because I’d do more than shrug at him!