Andy's Glasses

England beat Wales last night. In case you missed that. Or in case you live in China. In which case you’d have heard the result which most aligns with Communist Party narrative of the moment. And if President Xi is feeling more pleasantly disposed to the Welsh, because of England’s ‘hard line’ and Rishi’s ‘robust pragmatism’ against the horrible dictator, then what’s the Chinese for ‘WELL DONE WALES!!!!’?

And that, really, is my issue with not just Xi, but the Ayatollah, with Kim Jong Un, with all horrible, oppressive dictators. The poor people under their control really know absolutely nothing about what is going on. Either in their home country or, especially, in the outside world. And for China, the latter is the scapegoat for all the evils that happen in the former. Blame England, blame America, how will the people know any different? And now, also, blame social media. Because even someone as ruthless as Xi can’t completely control that stream of information. Even he can see that there would be absolute rebellion if the 1.6 billion people in China were not able to see what Kim Kardashian ate for brunch on Tuesday.

It’s always about the people. Russia, China, North Korea, Iran, the ordinary citizens are fed news from state-run, politicised ‘news’ channels, with no other sources of information available. They get the party story and nothing else.

I remember when we had our last dictator, Boris Johnson, who was eventually sacked because no-one could believe a word he said. Ok, he did loads of stupid things. They were forgivable. But the lying about them, the fictional and feeble attempts to cover them up, that was the true crime. Because we couldn’t trust him to tell us the truth. And I hated that. Because if you can’t trust the man at the top, (I would de-genderise that and say ‘or woman at the top’ but there are no dictators who are either women or even who identify as women. At the moment. And ‘in their own homes’ doesn’t count), then you feel very uneasy and helpless.

Your either buy into the story or you question it, but without information that’s difficult. Which is why so many older generation Russians support the war in Ukraine. And the prevailing ethos of ‘don’t upset the apple cart’ reinforces the desire to believe the state’s narrative.

The people of China watch the World Cup edited so that you can’t see the faces of the crowds and realise they’re not wearing masks. Because of their president’s obsession with ‘zero Covid’ they’re locked up for months, brutally, tested randomly and regularly, and have been living March 2020 for nearly 3 years. But with armed enforcement. Because of this, they’ve never reached ‘heard immunity’ and with a pathetic vaccination programme with a third rate vaccine, their ‘Covid rate’ creates a much higher death rate than anywhere else.

So there is rebellion, of sorts, in China. By extremely brave people. Most of whom will never be seen again.

Boycott China. Stop buying glasses at Specsavers. And bury Alexa at the back of the garden.

Happy Wednesday

A xxxx

Tonight’s match between England and Wales is simply massive. The consequences and repercussions will be simply immeasurable. Possibly because a lot of people simply ‘don’t care’ and its very hard to measure that in a quantitatively significant manner. But lots of us DO care. Greatly, deeply, passionately and… errrrr… big. …ly.

What will Prince William do? That’s the biggest question. He’s an Englishman and also the Prince of Wales. I have similar dilemma: I’m English but have visited Wales. Twice. Got a speeding ticket crossing the fucking bridge. But I bear them no grudges. Hmmm…

If Wales win, will that create a rush for ‘stick-on man-buns’? We’ll all be ‘going Bale’ and opting for the most unfashionable hair-cut ever imagined? Will we ‘do a Ramsey’ and dye our barnets blonde?

Here’s the situation, in case you’re not following all the details and statistical probabilities.

If England win, we win the group. Possibly the whole World Cup, but that’s next week’s discussion.

If Wales beat England by four goals or more (yeah, right) they go through automatically and England have to wait for other match between America and Iran to decide if we’re still involved. If America win that then Joe Biden becomes the new Ayatollah. If Iran win they get to send their Morality Police to Las Vegas. But if Cameroon beat Serbia then we get to send all our Albanians home. Unless Argentina lose to Qatar in which case all the Argentinians will be retiring to their new homes in Dubai.

So you can see; there’s a lot hanging on this result this evening.

But its the World Cup and anything can happen!!! I’ll be riveted to the screen. Hoping England don’t play like they did on Friday because I’ll fall asleep. And its before my bedtime.

Great article today by John Barnes, in the Times. Which shows that total tosser, Infantino, how to actually make the point about all countries doing things other nations may find unacceptable, in a way that is measured, intelligent and well put together. I vote Barnes for head of FIFA. Then take photos of Infantino kissing Sepp Blatter and leave him to the Qataris.

Happy Big Match Day

A xxxx

I went to a wedding yesterday. Awww, that’s nice. Always nice. But there’s weddings, and then there’s WEDDDINGGGGSSS!!!! This was the latter. Definitely the latter. It was so big you could sell your invitation on Stub-Hub. It was so grand I wore something around my neck. Not a noose, but a bow tie!! And it was so splendid and wonderful that there was hour after hour of wonderful things happening.

So we did the service. Which was magnificently magnificent in a really magnificent way. Brides, grooms, rabbis, singers, parents, rings, songs, dancing, all surrounded by the entire rose department of New Covent Garden market.

And then we breezed along into the reception area. (You do a lot of ‘breezing’ at the Dorchester, its that kind of place). Because that’s where they kept the booze hidden. But we found it. Lots of it. In a whole variety of colours and sizes. But wait… I smelt food… hmmmm…

The purpose of the ‘reception’ is to kill time before dinner and allow the newlyweds to be photographed with each and every combination and permutation of the guest pool. With the bride’s family, with the groom’s. With the extended families, with the cousins, with the ‘friends’ (because relatives do NOT fall into that category as most are hated by someone or other). The bride with the groom’s friends, the groom groping the bride’s friends, those cousins on the groom’s side who support Chelsea filmed with the friends of the bride’s who vote for the Greens. And so it goes on.

But there’s only so much you can drink whilst all this is going on. So they send round nibbles. Which, for a natural pig like me, are always the high point of any event. And they were good. Sensational. Little duck and hoi-sin pancakes, fish’n’chips in a little cone, hummus and flat-bread, smoked salmon roll-things, and more. But as I stumbled back to the bar I found a little ‘food station’. Like a train station but no-one was on strike. And instead of trains they had those tiny little burgers, ‘sliders’ and… drum roll… sausages! Both little real sausages and little ‘Vienna’, hot-dog type sausages. Ketchup. Mustard. Everything a man could wish for, all on one little table. From which I was never, ever going to leave. These are MY sausages and burgers, FUCK OFF AND GET YOUR OWN ELSEWHERE!!! If you touch them I will kill you.

But after just a few short hours they took them away!!!! Even though I was standing there with a carrier bag. And a glass of whisky. Just in case. But no, I was forced, dragged screaming, into dinner. Which took hours and hours because someone decided that the best way to digest course number 1 is to dance and leap around violently for half an hour to prepare you for course number 2. You’d think doctors would know better (both bride and groom) but no. I kept checking but they never brought the sausages back.

Which, as disappointments go, was not really the biggest of my life, it just felt like it at the time. Nothing compared to, f’rinstance, Belgium’s disappointment over their result. I bet Kevin de Bruyne wished he’d come to the wedding too.

Happy Monday

A xxxx

I’ve been trying to save the planet for year now. Like, really saving it. If I see a cow farting I go and tell it how bad that is for the environment. I turn off lights. Then turn them back on because I can’t read the paper in the dark. I plant flowers. Because trees are too big for our flower beds and begonias are the next best thing. Well, they photosynthesise, don’t they?

But a year ago we made the nearly conscious decision to get an electric car. We did the due diligence, investigated the ‘ranges’ of all available models. Deduct 60 miles from it because no car manufacturer is any more honest about the range of their batteries than they were about the economy of their petrol engines. We wanted a car that didn’t employ child labour, but unfortunately that happens with the mining of the Lithium so its a bit of a problem. We wanted a car that wasn’t about 6 times more carbon releasing than an equivalent petrol one, during its manufacture. But such a car doesn’t exist. So we forgot all that shit because to adopt a truly holier-than-thou stance in the motoring world no-one really cares about any of that. Only that it is, in some way, electric.

The problem is: we’re still waiting for it to arrive. And until it does we’re not allowed to be smug. We can’t say to people: ‘oh, you’re still driving a PETROL car, are you?’ Unless its a McLaren because even Greta Thunberg stops being a pain in the ass to admire those. And after 12 months of waiting, I’ve reached the point where I’m actually in favour of using the whip on those kids down the Lithium mines, abusing the slave labour to get more silicon chips to produce more processors, anything. Just get our fucking car. So we can let everyone know how morally superior we are compared to them.

And in that vein, I’m just a little curious how the ‘greenest World Cup ever!!!’, which in fact is nothing of the sort anyway, reconciles the air conditioning of open air stadia in 30 degree temperatures, to reducing carbon footprints? Just curious. No accusations, just… idle interest.

Happy Sunday

A xxxx

I know it was tempting but I chose not to watch Tunisia vs Australia this morning in the world cup, instead playing tennis in the park. I appreciate I missed 2 of the power houses of the modern game. With Tunisia being the best team in the whole of Tunisia and Australia being the champions of all places down under. My loss. And Tunisia’s too, as they lost 1-nil. Similarly when Poland beat Saudi Arabia at lunchtime, I ate lunch. I would never do such a thing if it was Spurs playing. Maybe even England would have had me eating later. But Poland and Saudi? I should support Poland. My grandmother was born there. Ok, she left when she was 1, in 1901, but still, blood’s thicker than… other stuff, right? Except my grandma didn’t jump on a dinghy in Calais in search of a better life, leaving her beloved homeland behind. No. They ran from rabid anti-semitism by the Poles. The Jews who didn’t run to pastures new were, 40 years later, rounded up by the Germans, ably assisted by the Poles, and murdered on a quite literally industrial scale. So my ‘love’ for that particular ancestral homeland is… shall we say: ‘limited’. Or we could say: I fucking hate Poles. But wouldn’t because its not a zeitgeisty thing to admit.

Basically, the best thing in the world is too much football to watch. And the worst thing is too much football to watch.

So right now I’m watching France play Denmark. Because I’m ‘se-lec-tive’, ain’t’I? France are the champions and always worth a watch, even though a lot of them seem to be French, which would normally preclude any involvement. But I can’t not watch Kylian Mbappe. A truly superhuman footballer, who plays for Paris St Germain, which is owned by… Qatar Sports Investments. Denmark have Christian Eriksen, who I love, Pierre-Emile Hojbjerg, who I also love dearly. And the France goalie is also the Spurs goalie. So I have to love him too. Which is why football fans are so fickle. We love players who are wonderful and we love players who play for us. Until they leave.

And now I’m in turmoil. It’s 5.30 and the rugby is just starting, with England playing South Africa. But there’s still 15 minutes of football left (plus probably 1 hour, 23 minutes of stoppage time). A true dilemma… Naaah, rugby wins.

Come on England

A xxxx

I was sitting in my kitchen, yesterday morning, in pre-work mode. Cup of tea, the morning paper open, just about to unveil the daily banana (what I call ‘cooking breakfast’) and I thought I’d check my emails. My morning check to see how much Groupon love me. And with Black Friday coming up, they love me lots. Thus I was in delete mode when a message caught my eye. ‘Appointment reminder’, it said. Ooooh. I wasn’t aware of any upcoming appointments, but there again, I live in a state of total oblivion and unawareness of the world going on around me. I clicked it. “Your appointment for the check up on your shoulder is on 23/11 at 9.20”. Oh, so that’s… TODAYYYY!!!! And as the time was 8.40… that’s… 40 minutes. In the West End. And I’m in the wet and windy north-west of London, eating a fucking banana.

One short car ride, a tube journey and a 10 minute walk in the pouring rain, and I calmly (yeah, right) walked through the door of the hospital at 9.19:57. Though not so much a ‘hospital’ as a clinic, but I don’t like that word because it invokes thoughts of STDs and syringed ears and other horrible, sterile, bleach-smelling, ultra-utilitarian industrial paintwork and metal folding chairs. And this is not like that. This is a HOSPITAL (clinic) that was only completed last year and its like an upmarket hotel. Full of helpful staff smiling and beautiful furniture and automatic doors and integrated TVs everywhere and fabulous design and computers operated by other computers, such is the level of high techiness in this place.

But they can’t work out that sending a ‘reminder’ ain’t no fucking use if its sent just minutes before the appointment time. Tossers. High tech, upmarket tossers. Like ‘yesterday’ wouldn’t be a better option?

However, the purpose of my visit was for a 9 month check on ‘the shoulder’. And my shoulder man moved to this hospital mid-way through my time with him. It’s him I want to see. Because I love him dearly. Like a father. A son. The step-sister I never had. Whatever. And I don’t care where he happens to be, I’ll go there. Because he saved me. From a life without tennis. Or ever scratching my arse with my right hand again. And this is what my shoulder now looks like. This ‘selfie’ was taken yesterday, which is why my arm looks a bit older than on the one they took back in February.

And the shoulder was such an amazing and brilliant improvement to my life I’m even prepared to put up with administrative incompetence to enjoy it. (Such a princess, I’ve become). And I don’t need to see my man again. I’ve been fired. Best news ever.

Until things start wearing out…

Happy, healthy Thursday

A xxxx

So now we’re really kicking off. Following Sunday’s ‘opener’ between Qatar and Ecuador, we’ve now had some proper football. Meaning: England played. Not just played, but were so victorious that the Ayatollah resigned (if only) and wants to become the supreme head of Great Britain instead now. Cos what’s the point of being the spiritual leader of such footballing no-hopers? And not just no-hopers, but no-hopers who fucking hate the Ayatollah! To the extent that the Iranian team refused to sing their own national anthem. Not just because its horrible and no-one understands a word of it; you could say that about the Welsh one, but as a ‘poli-tical state-ment’. And for that, the team which was thrashed 6-2 by ‘my boys’ commands my total respect, devotion and even love.

If Harry Kane didn’t sing the national anthem he’d get shit on social media, have a few nationalists up in arms, get slated by the press and the politicians. But his life would not be in danger. Which you kind’a feel is not the case for those brave Iranians who will return home to… who knows, but it won’t be good. The Ayatollahs, like all totalitarian heads, don’t really tolerate ‘protest’. They react to it with more… ‘murder’. Hence over 400 people dead so far for protesting in Iran. Protesting over the death of a woman killed by the ‘morality police’, and also over the terrible restrictions imposed on women’s lives there generally by the religious extremists who run their country.

So that was a ‘protest’ about which we were all totally on board. Then how about ‘armband-gate’? Harry Kane was going to wear his ‘one love’ rainbow armband in support of LGBTQ… rights but received threats from FIFA effectively forcing him, and all the others, not to. So he wore the official FIFA one which reads: “NO DISCRIMINATION! unless it is sanctioned by horrible countries who persecute women, gays, alcoholics and cross-dressers”.

To what extent should sports and politics mix? Well, given a world stage, a platform before hundreds of millions of viewers, it becomes irresistible to make your point. For FIFA to adopt yet another ignorant, enabling and hypocritical stance puts them in the same light as Qatar and does them no favours.

Happy World Cup (in its own way, the most interesting one we’ve ever had)

A xxxx

The World Cup started! Did you see that? Brilliant. Ecuador played the hosts, Qatar, in a match that was… can’t say ‘riveting’ because 1237 riveters died making the stadia… can’t say ‘breathtaking’ because all 6,500 who died stopped breathing at the exact moment of death… and I can’t say ‘outstanding’ because it really wasn’t. But it was football, so we must all be grateful. And no-one collapsed in the heat. Though Ecuadorians and Qataris are both hot weather people.

Ecuador scored a goal early on. It went to VAR for checking, as all goals must do, according to the 11th commandment, and… and… and… it was disallowed. The pundits checked it out, I checked it out, Gary Linneker had a look and we all thought it to be a righteous goal, but VAR thought otherwise.

Now here’s the funny thing. Everyone fucking hates VAR. In its 2 or 3 year tenure as the ‘official ruination of football’ we’ve all become almost immune to the quirks and vagaries of that horrible, destructive, heart-breaking system. And yet my first thought was not ‘VAR has fucked up again’, nor that there was some off the ball incident before the goal causing a problem. No. My first thought was ‘they’ve bribed the video ref’. And I was so ashamed for making such accusatory thoughts, so prejudicial against the host nation, that I thought I must have been the only person with such things in mind. And that, once again, its because I’m a bad and terrible person.

Then the meme, above, hit my WhatsApp stream. And I realised something different. That no-one trusts Qatar. Having used bribery and corruption to obtain their ‘dream’, why should it stop there? As has been mentioned a billion times: ‘they are not a footballing nation’, so why would they care about honesty in that game? When they live in a world where ‘everything has its price’ and they can easily afford to pay it. You get David Beckham for 150 mil, Morgan Freeman for a pretty penny, Gianni Infantino for whatever it takes, a humble video referee would get you change out of a few hundred grand.

Ahhhh, but the goal was disallowed for that usual VAR type nonsense, a toe was offside. Possibly just a toe-nail, but definitely offside, hence no-goal. We had no reason to doubt the honesty and integrity of anyone.

And yet I did. It was my very first thought. One never to have previously crossed my mind. That the game might have been compromised or corrupted.

The legacy of Qatar has begun.

Happy Monday

A xxxx

I am’a gay.
I am’a disabled.
I am’a Qatari.
I am’a a migrant worker.
I am’a really stupid Italian man in charge of football’s governing body, and’a desperate to try and make a case in support of Qatar. And’a if I totally lose the plot’a in any way’a, its just because I’m’a stupid and NOT’a because I’m’a taking (more) bribes to speak out for Qatar.

I was’a a migrant too you know. I went from’a Italy all da way to Switzerland.
And I am a European, but truly. And Europe has’a acted badly for 3,000 years! Yes, my very own Romans were very poor’a in’a human rights. Ask Jesus. So issa very ‘ypocritical to complain about Qatar’s issues with migrant labour. The Romans had slaves, FFS, Qatar only uses cheap labour from India, Sri Lanka and Bangla Desh because they’re in plentiful supply and no-one cares if a few (thousand) go missing. It’s the same thing.

Ok, issa different thing because the Romans were two-an-‘alf thousand years ago and Qatar is now, yes I appreciate that. But still… errr…

Well Britain should take note of using migrant labour!!

Some’a people said that I make this speech to try and dig FIFA out of the ‘orrendous black hole created when we awarded this World Cup to Qatar. Others say I’m being paid millions to say these things.

And’a because I’m not very bright and I’m defending the truly indefensible on all counts, issa very difficult. So I’ll mix up my comparisons, make claims that are frankly laughable, re-write history where possible and generally wish I’d stopped at ‘Good Morning’. But you see the worse light Qatar is portrayed, the more ridiculous becomes the position of FIFA. The most important organisation in the world. And now an organisations desperate to clean up its image after the Sepp Blatter/Michel Platini years. Or, ‘the years of plenty’, as they’re known at FIFA HQ.

So in making this speech you really can see that the lunatics have truly taken over the asylum.

Come to Qatar; issa lovely place.

Gianni Infantino
Xxxx

Should footballers refuse to play in the World Cup because of human rights abuses and institutionalised homophobia by the host nation? Of course not. They’re footballers, they play sport. Politics, equality, social and cultural considerations are really not in the domain of Harry Kane and Lionel Messi. They’ll make their point, wear their rainbow armbands and play the game.

Qatar bid to host the World Cup. And by ‘bid’ I actually mean bribed, coerced, corrupted and cheated their way to win the bid. The decision always stank. But then the corruption was proven, quantified, names named, heads rolled. So why was Qatar allowed to retain the tournament? They were the perpetrators, not the ‘victims’ of the corruption. But it was decided to let it stay. For reasons known only to FIFA.

No nation is totally ‘clean’ when viewed through the moral lens of other countries. I get that. If they choose to criminalise homosexuality, is that worse than America’s stance on abortion? Or Russia’s invasion of… well, everywhere nearby? Then there’s slavery history, always a useful tool to use against countries and lots of them.

But there’s the migrant worker deaths. Apparently 6,500. Most of whom have not received compensation for their families, and many who haven’t even received the wages they earned up to the day they fell off the scaffold, died in the collapse, got hit by a flying camel.

However, there is a rather sweet irony in all this.

Qatar wanted the World Cup to present an image of its good side to a world who really doesn’t know much about it. They wanted to present the fabulous stadia, the wonderful hotels, fabulous boulevards and all the other shit that vast amounts of money can buy. They wanted the tournament to shed light on how wonderful Qatar is.

But instead, they’ve had endless criticism for 12 years. Who knew, 10 years ago, that in divorce in Qatar the father always gets custody of the children, whatever the circumstances, with no rights at all to the mother? Who knew? But now we do. And we hate them just a little bit more. And we already hated them for the other shit going on there. And then, 3 days before the kick off, they ban beer at matches. Itself really no big deal, fans will always find ways to get drunk. But its the fact that this was part of their FIFA contract. And they could just change it at the last minute. Unilaterally. When most of the fans are already there. What other rules will they change?

Never mind, they can drink in the ‘fan zones’. £13 a pint of beer. Because it includes a ‘sin tax’. If they drink at their hotels they’ll pay up to £80 a pint. It wouldn’t bother me that much but its not about me. Its about consideration to the fans.

So rather than the intended ‘sportswashing’, Qatar has in fact laid itself bare to the world. And most of the world thinks they’re vile and horrible. Whereas before, no one gave that nation a single thought.

Happy Saturday

A xxxx