Thursday, 16 December 2010
The only thing I hate about this series so far is I can see Warne and McGrath's smug faces as they watch just how important they were to Australian cricket. Those two always win, no matter what happens in the grander scheme of things. In '05, Warne was the best player in the series, no matter what those Andrew 'Fredbull' Flintoff® DVDs tell you. And McGrath's injury probably played a bigger part in the outcome of the series than two or three England players contributions did. Somehow, even if Australia lose, their stock rises. And Liz Hurley as well...? Well, when you're hot, you're hot...
Tuesday, 14 December 2010
Outside it is getting light,
the view organizing itself
into a day like any other.
I am sat opposite my wife,
who is talking about her sister.
I had been unable to sleep,
and had got up and gone downstairs,
with my wife following
shortly after, expressing a
concern that was
equal parts artifice and affection,
urging me back to bed.
All that is hard to muster though,
these days. But the thought
did cross my mind.
She looked good still, stood
in a white bathrobe in our
Instead, I made coffee and tea
and we sat at the table by the window and talked.
I said Look at the hill, the sky, the window.
Anything at all can make sense sometimes.
Monday, 13 December 2010
Sunday, 12 December 2010
We had a great time; so thanks for putting us up, putting up with us, or any other variation thereof that might be relevant.
Special mention to the city of Wakefield and Mark Olson for being especially positive, friendly and just all round great.
Thursday, 4 November 2010
Friday, 1 October 2010
Then other days, I will see something like this...
And worse, I'll read about it in the paper I buy and read because it sometimes makes me feel like I might be ok.
Like I say, what the fuck? Do any of those things on there need any more affirmation? Are they really cool? How would you feel about a guy who turned up at your party on a Harley Davidson, with a bottle of Dom in his hand, Iphones, pods and pads sticking out of every available pocket on his Vivienne Westwood motorcycle leathers? He wouldn't take his Ray Bans off indoors, and he would bore the shit out of you talking about his collection of Ferraris and Aston Martins before extolling the virtues of Google Chrome and insisting you all have a game of golf on the Wii. I'll tell you what you would think of him.
Firstly, you would ask what football team he played for, then, you'd tell him, firmly, to fuck off.
Thursday, 16 September 2010
I think more sad than Fred's retirement, which, let's face it, has been coming all year, is that this really feels like the end for a certain type of cricketer - the big, drunk fast bowlers. And the unkempt genius batsmen. The gloriously amateurish fielders that made cricket great. Now it's all hair gel, trion bracelets, wedding ring necklaces, and nicknames ending in "Y". Well groomed footballer types that accidentally find themselves playing cricket.
Jesus. Bring back the drunks.
Wednesday, 15 September 2010
Wednesday, 1 September 2010
There has been some balance to some articles I have seen written on the whole situation, but what I can't understand is how people can react with such vitriol to these things? Where is people's empathy? I know that some ex-pros must have more insight than anyone into the whys and wherefores of how these things work, but surely they can see that it is the gluttony and greed that have permeated the game on every level that is the root cause of all this, not some isolated cultural marker in Pakistani culture. The fact is that those players just can't sell their arses to whatever cheap deodorant company comes dangling a cheque in front of them this month. Or peddle their inane dronings daily on the world's most drivel filled radio station. Where was this uproar at Stanford? Or Modi? It's too easy to sit here in a culture of comfort and start passing judgement from some standpoint of sporting integrity. The moral vacuum in all sport is what enables all this, and that should be remembered by everyone who goes out looking for Pakistani scapegoats.
Tuesday, 10 August 2010
Tuesday, 27 July 2010
Thursday, 15 July 2010
Time to dig a few of those spam emails out of the old junk file, Craig... you can get the relevant medication pretty cheap these days.
Wednesday, 14 July 2010
Got to embrace it I guess, but does the world really need another grumpy old bastard? Maybe I could cheer up with age?
Monday, 12 July 2010
My best moment of the night? Alan Hansen saying that it would have been a travesty if the Dutch had won, a victory for football etc etc... well, I'll remember that Alan, when you are smirking like the c*nt you are about some moronic clogger from Stoke or Bolton dishing it out to the Arsenal next year. What do you know about preserving the vestiges of some notion of footballing purity? You were a DEFENDER. And a Scottish one at that.
Wednesday, 30 June 2010
Late in the day
it was an osprey
first, then two
bald eagles that
flew over as we
put the dinner
things out on
the picnic table
outside the cabin.
We stood watching,
before we set out the
dinner places. The meat,
the wine and the bread.
I couldn't shake
the feeling that we
I felt it strongly
all night in that
cabin in the wood.
Tuesday, 29 June 2010
I watched the cricket instead. I honestly cannot get excited, sad, happy or feel anything at all in fact about this bunch of idiots. They are a truly unlikeable bunch. How did a German team become more likeable than an England team? John Terry, Ashley Cole, Wayne Rooney and Rio Ferdinand, that's how. I bet the Germans even speak better English than they do...
Tuesday, 15 June 2010
Tuesday, 18 May 2010
I just read this on the BBC Sport website, and I just cannot believe that people who are paid to have interesting opinions and insight into sport actually peddle this garbage. I mean, does anyone actually think that one ball "set the tone" for a whole test series?
I shudder to think what Steve Harmison must have done to some of the journalists in this country to make them feel like they do. He must be a bad, bad man. Maybe he didn't celebrate every wicket with the kind of chest beating ostentation of Fred, and maybe he doesn't have great hair gel like Stuart Broad. Maybe he doesn't go on Twitter and show everyone what a "funny" bloke he is like Graeme Swann. Graeme Swann, remember. That's a fucking cop's name if ever I heard one.
I've never had less warmth for an England team than I have for this one. They stink of Australia. Cops. Thatcher. Everything that is bad and soulless in the world.
Thursday, 29 April 2010
Apart from when they fight each other. Then Jose fucking Mourinho wins.
I hoped I would wake up this morning and find that last night's result was a horrible dream. But that never happens. You always wake up and it's real. You're alone. Arsenal lost. He won. The washing up is still in the sink. It is not Saturday. Stuart Broad will always be more popular than Steve Harmison.
Fuck it all. Fuck it all.
Friday, 16 April 2010
Thursday, 18 March 2010
It's been a long time making it, which is ironic because it contains some of the most ludicrously simple music ever made. Oh well.
We will be doing a London launch show, details of which will be announced shortly, but we have confirmed a show in our hometown, Aylesbury, on May 29th at The White Swan.
Adam will provide a solo acoustic support slot, so it's going to be a fucking great party.
Messi is quite good at football, isn't he?
Tuesday, 16 March 2010
I think about the day
we spent looking for
and the memory is as polished
and shiny and beautiful
as that guitar itself.
About how she looked
when I told her
that I had sold my first
good guitar that day,
the day we met, and how
we drank the money.
Then barely a month later,
drunk again and cocaine now
as well, off that brand new
dark brown back.
But mostly, I think of how she came
through the fuzz and rain
like a ghost of thunder,
played Segovia and Greensleeves,
and how she slept.
Monday, 1 March 2010
I missed the tackle, but watched it back on Match Of The Day.
On one hand, It's hard to criticize Shawcross, and I felt hugely sorry for him when he left the pitch in tears, but equally I just cannot understand this prevailing logic that "...he obviously didn't deliberately break his leg..."
Well that goes without saying, doesn't it? Who would? That doesn't mean you don't know you are going to hurt someone with a challenge, or at the very least don't care if you do. You could only break someone's leg like that if you went in with absolutely no regard for the consequences, and that is what Wenger is saying. Shawcross was so late it was untrue. Especially for someone who is essentially paid to be able to tackle other players. And now about to receive international honours for doing so.
The point is, these are supposedly professionals and if it is the case, as they constantly harp on about, that they all have the utmost respect for each other "as professionals", then surely one would never make that kind of a tackle on a fellow professional. I hear people in pubs and on Sunday league pitches boasting about breaking people's legs and unfortunately there is that streak running right through the game in this country. Right up to the very top. Ask Roy Keane, or Alf Inge Haaland for that matter. While neither Shawcross' tackle or personality seem to be comparable to Keane's and his moronic act of cowardice, the fact is that not caring about the consequences of a reckless lunge is tantamount to the same thing. As the saying goes "To all intents and purposes."
Anyway, mostly I just hope the boy is alright, and returns in red and white like it never happened.
Thursday, 25 February 2010
Monday, 22 February 2010
Monday, 8 February 2010
The rest of the track listing is really great, so get over there and have a listen.
I'll post a link to a Buy The Bastard Now page when I have one.
Oh yeah, also, how good was the Superbowl? Much better than watching Arsenal getting bullied by Drogba again... can't wait for him to retire.
Thursday, 28 January 2010
I will be playing a solo show on March 13th, in Pilton, Barnstable in Devon.
The show will be in Pilton Hall, details here...
Secondly, here is a link to a Radio session Adam and I did before Christmas while up north recording our new record. That's Adam that say's "That was wicked, wasn't it?" , not me. Just want to clear that up...
The new Treecreeper album is all done, and there should be some news on what will happen to it next shortly. But it's good, apart from my singing, obviously, and will be called Juniper.
This wasn't my real issue, though. My main problem is just the casual acceptance that all this discussion of Islam is somehow acceptable because of the terrorist attacks in the last few years. Nicky Campbell practically asserted this view. He is paid by us, and he is espousing this view that ever since 9/11 every aspect of Islamic culture is now up for debate and scrutiny. It's bullshit. The two things are not related... I mean, when I was younger, people weren't discussing whether certain Catholic practices should be banned because of the threat of the IRA. Catholicism wasn't constantly being discussed as this "otherness" that was an inherent, insidious threat to British culture. If the IRA can be distinguished from Catholicism as a whole, why does our media insist on perpetrating this drip feed that Islam and terrorism go hand in hand. They are doing the same with Islam and the oppression of women. Who is complaining about Nun's habits? Not Sarkozy, that's for sure. And not Nicky Campbell.
Am I just so naive as to want a media that doesn't push a racist, jingoistic pro Judeo-Christian agenda? Is that too much to ask for, especially from an organization that we all pay for, whatever our religion? Fucking religion. Fucking BBC. Fucking Nicky fucking Campbell. Fuck... (walks off kicking stones)
Wednesday, 27 January 2010
Saturday, 16 January 2010
Thursday, 14 January 2010
Tuesday, 12 January 2010
There were people before them, of course, people like Dennis Bergkamp, Paul Merson, Courtney Walsh and Wasim Akram, but they were men as I was a boy and they seemed magical and other-worldly. Now my age has over-taken the people who I watch playing sport and the existential mortality that comes with that knowledge has somehow diminished my bond with them.
Whatever, here's my five men of the last decade....
Steve Harmison - Wides, homesickness, drink, more wides.
Robert Pires - Hair, chin beard, cheat, better than Henry.
Zinedine Zidane - Headbutts, red cards, and a perfect footballer.
Shoiab Akhtar - Genital warts, extreme pace, drugs, bans, the lot.
Andrew Symonds - Drink problems, loads of sixes, rows on the pitch, fights in the bar.
Here's to the next batch of troubled, angry, depressive, drunks that actually make sport worth watching.