Big day.....
Well, it's finally here, the day we've all been waiting for. The Big One. We've been here before, we've suffered the pain of watching defeat snatched from the jaws of victory, we've followed the thrills and spills, the incidents, the bad decisions, the inspired genius of top class sportsman at the peak of their capabilities, we've seen their form slump and felt for them as it withered on the vine. The passion, the tension, moments of heart stopping brilliance, and of seeing people choke on the tension. And all to try and win the big one, the prize that eludes all but the very best....
Yep....the US Open starts today and can a Brit bring home the bacon for the first time since Tony Jacklin? Or will Tiger Woods game rise like a Phoenix from the ashes of a disastrous year top once again conquer all before him. My money is on Vijay Singh, or Ernie Els.
Euro 2004 Comment
Apparently we'll playing the diamond formation with Frank Lampard from my beloved Chelsea playing in a defensive midfield role, in front of the back four. Paul Scholes will sit behind the front two acting as playmaker (sic..surely) . Well done Sven Fuckwit, Frank Lampard has scored 16 goals for Chelsea this season in a flat midfield four, he scored against Iceland when England reverted to a normal 4-4-2, and then against France he scored again. So, play him out of position, ask him to curb his natural instinct to go forward and score, and play Paul Scholes who hasn't scored for 3 years in an England shirt as the forward midfield player. Lets hope I'm eating humble pie later tonight when Sven Fuckwit proves me wrong!
Later, Grocerjack
Thursday, 17 June 2004
Wednesday, 16 June 2004
Little Englanders...or wankers as I like to call them
So, once again the good (sic) name of this country is undermined by a bunch of mindless thick jingoistic morons...and I don't mean our new crop of Tory and UKIP Euro MP's! Nope, Im referring to the fucking idiots parading as England fans and lobbing tables and chairs into bars and at people in Albufeira. I've never been to Portugal, and frankly Albufeira doesn't sound like my sort of place, but many thousands of law abiding Brits (which includes us English) go each year.Undoubtedly some will get pissed and have a ruck before getting nicked, they'd do that here in Nottingham or Southampton City Centres. But this lot seem intent on showing how macho, hard and funny they are and mistakenly believe their defending the honour of England in some sort of team handed bullshit pseudo-war. The Portuguese, as with the rest of Europe seem unfailingly warm and friendly to us but do our "fans" care? Do they bollocks! I am a football fan, I suffer for my love of the game when watching my beloved Chelsea, or my country England, but I don't feel the need to show my superiority by abusing other fans, or other countries, I just suffer and then get on with life.
So, those that are nicked - bang them up until the Tournament is over, freeze any assets they may have, then try them, jail them for say 3 years in Portugal, with remuneration for the costs to Portugal from all of their assets with the shortfall being made up by our Government. So, after 3 years they are deported, no passports re-issued for 20 years and they are also potless. Too hard? Tough shit!
Later, Grocerjack
So, once again the good (sic) name of this country is undermined by a bunch of mindless thick jingoistic morons...and I don't mean our new crop of Tory and UKIP Euro MP's! Nope, Im referring to the fucking idiots parading as England fans and lobbing tables and chairs into bars and at people in Albufeira. I've never been to Portugal, and frankly Albufeira doesn't sound like my sort of place, but many thousands of law abiding Brits (which includes us English) go each year.Undoubtedly some will get pissed and have a ruck before getting nicked, they'd do that here in Nottingham or Southampton City Centres. But this lot seem intent on showing how macho, hard and funny they are and mistakenly believe their defending the honour of England in some sort of team handed bullshit pseudo-war. The Portuguese, as with the rest of Europe seem unfailingly warm and friendly to us but do our "fans" care? Do they bollocks! I am a football fan, I suffer for my love of the game when watching my beloved Chelsea, or my country England, but I don't feel the need to show my superiority by abusing other fans, or other countries, I just suffer and then get on with life.
So, those that are nicked - bang them up until the Tournament is over, freeze any assets they may have, then try them, jail them for say 3 years in Portugal, with remuneration for the costs to Portugal from all of their assets with the shortfall being made up by our Government. So, after 3 years they are deported, no passports re-issued for 20 years and they are also potless. Too hard? Tough shit!
Later, Grocerjack
Another meeting with Mysterious M
Today I had a “scoping” meeting with my boss, the Mysterious M. It was called this so as to not give too much away to the nosy bastards who have no better life than to look at my diary to see what I’m doing that day. I would imagine this amounts to none, but we appear to working in an environment of ever increasing paranoia where information is most definitely power. Anyway, within the next couple of weeks I will be picking up my new team, a small one of 5 people. A title has yet to be determined but “Performance and Change Management” seems likely. Now, 4 months ago I was running a team of 22 people and constantly answering calls and replying to emails or attending meetings. There is little that depresses me more than a day of back to back meetings. Anyway doing that was a bit like being a teacher at an unruly comprehensive, with people constantly asking things, unable to make their own decisions or doing what the hell they wanted and hiding it from you. Despite this they were a good bunch, but this feels like I’m ready to dip back into the world of managing people and to be honest I find myself enjoying my work more and more now the shock of not being battered daily has worn off. I like to think I am a good coach of people and perhaps after my tirade against Sven Fuckwit I can put my own theories to the test once again on how to motivate and mobilise people. After all my initial distrust and cynicism it appears the Mysterious M really does like me and rates my abilities, which is a compliment in anyone’s eyes.
However, watch this space for some more cracking Management Gobbledygook Bollocks Talk very soon.
Euro 2004 Comment
Paul Scholes will be fit after all for tomorrows “crunch” game against the Swiss – bollocks. I stick to my guns here – as a coach you pick the form players, not stay with some misplaced loyalty on players who have not done the business for months. Sven Fuckwit – loyalty can be an admirable trait, but misplaced loyalty will be your downfall. Great game last night between Germany and Holland, with 2 teams showing real dislike for each other matched with mutual respect to give an absorbing, exciting and tense game. Whatever you think about the mechanical nature of the Germans you cannot fail to admire their resilience and mental attitude. The Dutch however seem to mentally all over the shop, but got through the game on their skill and determination not to let the Germans put one ovcer on them. In the end the Dutch Masters went from the beautiful game of passing along the floor, to “hoofing” the ball 70 yards to the big centre forward. Still, whatever lights your candle and gets the job done.
Later, Grocerjack
Today I had a “scoping” meeting with my boss, the Mysterious M. It was called this so as to not give too much away to the nosy bastards who have no better life than to look at my diary to see what I’m doing that day. I would imagine this amounts to none, but we appear to working in an environment of ever increasing paranoia where information is most definitely power. Anyway, within the next couple of weeks I will be picking up my new team, a small one of 5 people. A title has yet to be determined but “Performance and Change Management” seems likely. Now, 4 months ago I was running a team of 22 people and constantly answering calls and replying to emails or attending meetings. There is little that depresses me more than a day of back to back meetings. Anyway doing that was a bit like being a teacher at an unruly comprehensive, with people constantly asking things, unable to make their own decisions or doing what the hell they wanted and hiding it from you. Despite this they were a good bunch, but this feels like I’m ready to dip back into the world of managing people and to be honest I find myself enjoying my work more and more now the shock of not being battered daily has worn off. I like to think I am a good coach of people and perhaps after my tirade against Sven Fuckwit I can put my own theories to the test once again on how to motivate and mobilise people. After all my initial distrust and cynicism it appears the Mysterious M really does like me and rates my abilities, which is a compliment in anyone’s eyes.
However, watch this space for some more cracking Management Gobbledygook Bollocks Talk very soon.
Euro 2004 Comment
Paul Scholes will be fit after all for tomorrows “crunch” game against the Swiss – bollocks. I stick to my guns here – as a coach you pick the form players, not stay with some misplaced loyalty on players who have not done the business for months. Sven Fuckwit – loyalty can be an admirable trait, but misplaced loyalty will be your downfall. Great game last night between Germany and Holland, with 2 teams showing real dislike for each other matched with mutual respect to give an absorbing, exciting and tense game. Whatever you think about the mechanical nature of the Germans you cannot fail to admire their resilience and mental attitude. The Dutch however seem to mentally all over the shop, but got through the game on their skill and determination not to let the Germans put one ovcer on them. In the end the Dutch Masters went from the beautiful game of passing along the floor, to “hoofing” the ball 70 yards to the big centre forward. Still, whatever lights your candle and gets the job done.
Later, Grocerjack
Tuesday, 15 June 2004
This weeks work of Art - Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte by Geoerges Seurat. Its not modern or controversial, but I love this and am looking to buy a recreation in oil of this. A much underrated artist is Mr Seurat. I believe he used "dots" to create the image rather than traditional painterly styles.
Monday, 14 June 2004
Late thoughts.....
Paul Scholes is injured and may not be fit for Thursdays game against the Swiss - fucking excellent news!
UKIP win 17% of the vote for Europe and promise "to undermine the Euro Parliamanet at every opportunity" - can't wait for the merger with the BNP - fucking racist Little Englanders trying to put an acceptable face on it. If leave Europe we'll be virtually bankrupted - do they really think the US will give a shit then, do they really think the US will up our trade quotas and drop restrictions to help us out...yeah right.
Sven Fuckwit says " the 3 substitutes came and and all done very well" - sounds like young Mr Grace - yep Sven Heskey did a fantastic job of kicking a fench player to give a way a free kick to the best dead ball player in the world to let him score etc etc ..ad infinitum
Caroline Dickinsons killer gets 30 years - its too fucking good for him, but even in a French jail, I'll give him less than a year before he tops himself or someone does it for him
I have an infected toe, and by Christ its painful, todays golf at Croxy's was bloody sore! My sore throat appears to sinus related, apparently the contents seep onto my throat through the night and cause it to dry up - yeah lovely. So to add to my Hayfever tablets, Asthma inhaler (reactive), asthma inhaler (preventative) I will now have a nasal spray and anti-biotics for 2 weeks. I may need a handbag to carry this lot around in - anyone know where I can get a cheap Burbery?
Later, Grocerjack
Paul Scholes is injured and may not be fit for Thursdays game against the Swiss - fucking excellent news!
UKIP win 17% of the vote for Europe and promise "to undermine the Euro Parliamanet at every opportunity" - can't wait for the merger with the BNP - fucking racist Little Englanders trying to put an acceptable face on it. If leave Europe we'll be virtually bankrupted - do they really think the US will give a shit then, do they really think the US will up our trade quotas and drop restrictions to help us out...yeah right.
Sven Fuckwit says " the 3 substitutes came and and all done very well" - sounds like young Mr Grace - yep Sven Heskey did a fantastic job of kicking a fench player to give a way a free kick to the best dead ball player in the world to let him score etc etc ..ad infinitum
Caroline Dickinsons killer gets 30 years - its too fucking good for him, but even in a French jail, I'll give him less than a year before he tops himself or someone does it for him
I have an infected toe, and by Christ its painful, todays golf at Croxy's was bloody sore! My sore throat appears to sinus related, apparently the contents seep onto my throat through the night and cause it to dry up - yeah lovely. So to add to my Hayfever tablets, Asthma inhaler (reactive), asthma inhaler (preventative) I will now have a nasal spray and anti-biotics for 2 weeks. I may need a handbag to carry this lot around in - anyone know where I can get a cheap Burbery?
Later, Grocerjack
Vive Le France!
Oh dear, my adopted future homeland (France) gave my current one a bit of a hiding last night. I had tried to veer away from footie in the last few weeks as the season had taken its toll on me and I was a bit shagged out. But last night was too much to bear. For the neutrals and the non-footie fans it must have been compelling theatre as wave after wave of French attack pummelled the England defence. I sat and watched with some mates and we all thought the second half performance, whilst brave and stoic, was also cheating the fans. Why do we feel the best policy is defending at all costs? We are as good as these teams but we get a goal up (well done SuperFrank) and against these so called better teams (Portugal 2000, Argentina 2002, Brazil 2002 and France 2004) we just seem to capitulate. You cannot in any game , be it Rugby, Cricket or whatever show these teams too much respect because they’ll see the fear and then hammer you. Perhaps its our daft sense of fair play but my feeling is its more to do with a lack of belief.
The problem then comes down to one man – Fuckwit II, the return of the Fuckwit clan. Yep, Fuckwit Ranierii has gone, but we still have some around and Sven is a fully paid up member of the Fuckwit Clan. Unlike the rest of the nation, including the sycophantic press and broadcast media I think Sven is a twat. Sorry, don’t mean to offend…a fucking twat! How he had the sheer bollocks to come out smiling after that game and say we played well and didn’t deserve to lose is beyond me. We allowed ourselves to be hammered for 45 minutes, we came out and started like a team that knew it couldn’t hold on to the slender lead. What I want is a coach who can inspire and motivate the players, and make them believe they’re all fucking Pele or Maradona (the drug free one!), and Sven is too cool, too dispassionate and too calm for me. I want passion, I want tears, I want tea cups thrown at half time, I want the players to get the “hair dryer” treatment, or get a cuddle or whatever it takes to life THEM mentally.
I want Mike Bassett England manager (as portrayed by the ever excellent Ricky Tomlinson). Failing that bring back the wideboy cockney barra boy geezer that is El Tel Venables. There is no way he would have allowed the team to cave in against the French, who were undoubtedly good, but not unbeatable. They won because they never stopped believing, even after getting a late equaliser My belief is that at that level, whatever the sport, the technical difference in capability and skill is minimal, but what counts…what makes winners is in the mind. Its mental attitude and we lacked a lot of that last night. A quote that I really like that I use to try and help me perform better is this
“Whether you think you can, or whether you think you can’t, you’re probably right” (Henry Ford..a long time ago)
Later, Grocerjack
Oh dear, my adopted future homeland (France) gave my current one a bit of a hiding last night. I had tried to veer away from footie in the last few weeks as the season had taken its toll on me and I was a bit shagged out. But last night was too much to bear. For the neutrals and the non-footie fans it must have been compelling theatre as wave after wave of French attack pummelled the England defence. I sat and watched with some mates and we all thought the second half performance, whilst brave and stoic, was also cheating the fans. Why do we feel the best policy is defending at all costs? We are as good as these teams but we get a goal up (well done SuperFrank) and against these so called better teams (Portugal 2000, Argentina 2002, Brazil 2002 and France 2004) we just seem to capitulate. You cannot in any game , be it Rugby, Cricket or whatever show these teams too much respect because they’ll see the fear and then hammer you. Perhaps its our daft sense of fair play but my feeling is its more to do with a lack of belief.
The problem then comes down to one man – Fuckwit II, the return of the Fuckwit clan. Yep, Fuckwit Ranierii has gone, but we still have some around and Sven is a fully paid up member of the Fuckwit Clan. Unlike the rest of the nation, including the sycophantic press and broadcast media I think Sven is a twat. Sorry, don’t mean to offend…a fucking twat! How he had the sheer bollocks to come out smiling after that game and say we played well and didn’t deserve to lose is beyond me. We allowed ourselves to be hammered for 45 minutes, we came out and started like a team that knew it couldn’t hold on to the slender lead. What I want is a coach who can inspire and motivate the players, and make them believe they’re all fucking Pele or Maradona (the drug free one!), and Sven is too cool, too dispassionate and too calm for me. I want passion, I want tears, I want tea cups thrown at half time, I want the players to get the “hair dryer” treatment, or get a cuddle or whatever it takes to life THEM mentally.
I want Mike Bassett England manager (as portrayed by the ever excellent Ricky Tomlinson). Failing that bring back the wideboy cockney barra boy geezer that is El Tel Venables. There is no way he would have allowed the team to cave in against the French, who were undoubtedly good, but not unbeatable. They won because they never stopped believing, even after getting a late equaliser My belief is that at that level, whatever the sport, the technical difference in capability and skill is minimal, but what counts…what makes winners is in the mind. Its mental attitude and we lacked a lot of that last night. A quote that I really like that I use to try and help me perform better is this
“Whether you think you can, or whether you think you can’t, you’re probably right” (Henry Ford..a long time ago)
Later, Grocerjack
Friday, 11 June 2004
I'm off to the pub....
You know how quite things were the other week when GMD, Teenager and Baby were on Sunny Tropical Island for a week. Well last weekend was a return to normalish chaos, but tonight has exploded into anarchy. GMD and The Kings Wife were chatting in our kitchen this afternoon, hence the obligatory wine bottle was opened. Only I think it ws more than a bottle. I was called four times on the way home with varying instructions on what to pick up (unfortunately, young, gorgeous,latin bird wasn't amongst them). I duly did this but instantly new that things were a bit socially relaxed by the tone of GMD's voice. No problem, she works hard and she deserves a little bit of quality time to relax. When I got home, to my horror I had forgotten the Virgin Vie party. For the uninitiated this is a piss up where they try and buy make up - a sort of Avon for the 21st Century. But...not only is my house full of laughing, slightly drunk women...but their kids are all here as well...upstairs in the kids romms. There are around 12 of them NOT including Teenager and Baby. In Room 1 (Baby's) we have the under 10's (incl) playing Busted as loud as posible, with Friends on the TV in the background - all girls. In Room 2 we have the over 11's, giggling and sqealing, playing Emin-fucking-em, 50-fucking-Cent and associated other bollocks to the dulcet background of mobiles receiving texts and photos....from each other - again all girls! Room 3 (the lounge) is now full of cackling,laughing, drinking women. I am the only testosterone carrier in the near vicinity.
Overall my house is now a candidate from Room 101.
I need some Guinness and quick.......have a good weekend....
Later, Grocerjack
You know how quite things were the other week when GMD, Teenager and Baby were on Sunny Tropical Island for a week. Well last weekend was a return to normalish chaos, but tonight has exploded into anarchy. GMD and The Kings Wife were chatting in our kitchen this afternoon, hence the obligatory wine bottle was opened. Only I think it ws more than a bottle. I was called four times on the way home with varying instructions on what to pick up (unfortunately, young, gorgeous,latin bird wasn't amongst them). I duly did this but instantly new that things were a bit socially relaxed by the tone of GMD's voice. No problem, she works hard and she deserves a little bit of quality time to relax. When I got home, to my horror I had forgotten the Virgin Vie party. For the uninitiated this is a piss up where they try and buy make up - a sort of Avon for the 21st Century. But...not only is my house full of laughing, slightly drunk women...but their kids are all here as well...upstairs in the kids romms. There are around 12 of them NOT including Teenager and Baby. In Room 1 (Baby's) we have the under 10's (incl) playing Busted as loud as posible, with Friends on the TV in the background - all girls. In Room 2 we have the over 11's, giggling and sqealing, playing Emin-fucking-em, 50-fucking-Cent and associated other bollocks to the dulcet background of mobiles receiving texts and photos....from each other - again all girls! Room 3 (the lounge) is now full of cackling,laughing, drinking women. I am the only testosterone carrier in the near vicinity.
Overall my house is now a candidate from Room 101.
I need some Guinness and quick.......have a good weekend....
Later, Grocerjack
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