Monthly Archive:: August 2011

Words of comfort

This is just a quick post. It is a post that not many people will actually read, but its purpose is to highlight why I write a blog. Something happened on Friday in terms of my other blog, Parla Calcio? I sent a link to a football writer on twitter, as I thought they might

Dropping the C-BOMB

I swear. I swear a lot. I can never remember if it is like a docker, a trooper, a fox or a pig. Either way, it is something I do on a regular basis. Or at least I once did. Have a baby and everyone with or without a kid will instantly tell you that

A stig by any other name

I’m a mess. With each passing week – with each frayed collar, each lost button – every load of washing (of which I am unlikely to have played an active part), it is clear. I am letting myself go. I can’t remember the last time I bought an item of clothing – can’t remember the

Guest blog: In Bed With Maradona

Pro Vercelli – A logical decision Guest blog for the wonderful In Bed With Maradona site. Part of the continued introduction to the new site Parla Calcio? A brief(ish) guide on how to pick a football team – and the inner workings of an obsessive mind.

Parla Calcio?

Originally posted on Parla Calcio? Oh Italy. The place I’d love to one day call home – that beautiful country I have visited more than any other (if you discount Lancashire) in recent years. Italy – the home of great food, great wine, historical landmarks, fantastic football teams – and a language so, so, err,

Guest Blog: Dear Mr Levy

Bit of a departure from the usual stuff on here. Was given free rein to write a Nostradamus influenced preview for the forthcoming Spurs season. The repetition and length also lends itself to the Epic poetry of Homer etc.. Though that makes it sound fairly highbrow – when all it really is, is a chance

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Even if you have nothing to write, write and say so. Marcus Tullius Cicero I give up too easily. It’s one of the (no doubt many) negative traits I have. When I was younger my mum organised for me to join the Cubs. She spent a month sending me in my tracksuit, making sure that

Maybe it’s because i’m a Londoner

What a mess. I’m finding it hard to watch the images on the screen. Even harder listening to the empty shell of a man trying to fathom why someone has set fire to his family business. What makes it hard is that the images are not from some far off battlefield, or political hotspot –

Guest Blog: The Football Express

This guest post is part of a series of first memories of football. As the piece explains, this match wasn’t my first actually footballing memory – more the first time I can recall football actually meaning something more than just being a game, on TV, where the result was a mere formality. When it started