*insert Biblical reference to throwing first stone here*
It is less than six months until the association football* world cup, a tournament the national side has a better than average chance this time around of actually winning. As I write, joint talismen Wayne Rooney and David Beckham have the correct number of intact and functioning feet and are both playing exceedingly well. In fact, everything in the footy garden looks pretty rosy for a change. Or does it. No, of course not. More fool me for being so presumptuous for, bang on time and with the precision delivery most centre forwards would give their eye teeth to be on the end of, the massed ranks of Her Majesty's Press play their traditional morale-sapping spoiler and pick on a vital member of the team, in this case the captain, for no reason other than the fact he's human and has a willy. And, probably more's the point, that his cuckolded team mate has a photogenic wife.
I fail to see what relevance this load of crap has to anyone outside the four people involved. We do not need to be told and it is not in the public interest. If readers were that interested in the sordid behind the scenes goings-on of people most of them had neither heard of nor cared about, I am pretty certain journalists themselves would be the subject of most news items printed. Comments welcome from any ex-hacks amongst my distinguished readership.
And on vaguely the same subject, this story beggars belief.
*Note I have used the "correct" term rather than the accepted term for the benefit of both my ex-colonial readership and Vicus. Both of these parties believe "foot"ball is better played primarily using one's hands, a point of view that puts them happily alongside the French and Argentinians.