Saturday 13th May 2006

Last night was the last of the Moz gigs, something I failed to mention because I was preoccupied talking about cafes, and also because it wasn’t the best concert I’ve been to. I mean as gigs go it was great, but as Moz gigs go… strangely underwhelming. Although it’s the last of the tour for me, he’s still got loads to do and I’ve got a sneaking suspicion the ‘cancelled due to illness’ plan will soon be put into practice. He looking a bit weary.

For proper theatre one simply had to watch today’s cup final, which was extraordinary. Jose, the Dutch lady I met last Sunday at The Opera House, and again last night, met up with me and I insisted on watching the game even though she apparently hates football and only had a few hours left in Liverpool before her flight. What a rubbish host I am, but it’s entirely her fault for coming over on cup final weekend and not being able to psychically predict Liverpool would be involved. How stupid can you get? Anyway, as it turned out the match was a sort of antidote for not liking football. It should be used in hospitals for people that don’t like football as an instant cure. It had every single element of a brilliant match. David versus Goliath scenario. David nearly winning but for one of the best goals of all time in the last minute. Non-stop, break-neck pace. A penalty shoot out. Alarming skill. Tons of goals. It was a Roy Of The Rovers cartoon strip played out in real life.

In future, whenever anyone says to me “Why do you like football? It’s a thugs game, and look at you, you French Duke, sat there with your cocktail, why would you like it?� I’ll reach inside my jacket and pull out, not a gun, but a DVD and say “Here, watch this. This is the FA Cup Final between West Ham United and Liverpool, played on the 13th of May, 2006. What this and not only will you realise why I love football so, you too, my unenlightened friend, will love it also.�

And they’ll sit down and their eyes will widen at a sporting spectacle of such greatness and magnitude that they’ll probably hate themselves for not liking football far earlier in their lives. They’ll slam their fist onto the table and cry out “Why? Why have I denied myself this pleasure for so long? Oh what a wretched fool I’ve been! Why! Why!� And someone, probably the barman, will say “Easy, friend. Do not fret. For this summer we have what is called a ‘World Cup’, where there is more football in a month than even the most hardened and mad lunatic could watch. You should leave your job and watch it all.�

And the man, or woman, will say “Yes! This is what I will do!� And they’ll ring their boss and say “You’ve been holding me and my unconscious love of football back for too long. Only now do I see what I shall do with my life. I shall sit with my fellow man, or woman, and eat crisps and look at the TV and say ‘What was that about?’ in a disappointed voice or ‘Come on you Muppet’ in an annoyed voice, and rejoice in my new found love of the one true religion – football. So stuff your job up your Arsenal.�

And the boss will say “Are you sure you’ve not just caught a bit of World Cup fever and decided you really love football, like girls do, but when it’s all over you’ll never watch a match again until the European Championships in two years time when you’ll say you really love football again?�

And the man, or woman, will say “No, it’s not like that. I do really love football, because I’ve just seen a DVD of the Liverpool versus West Ham cup final.�

And the boss will say “Yeah, but that was an exceptional match. Not all matches are like that. Most are a bit rubbish.�

“Oh shut up, boss. I know what you’re playing at. You just want to keep me from my football, but it wont work, see?�

“Well, if that’s the way you want it. Thanks for five good years. Good luck.�

And then they’ll just sit and watch football forever. That’s how good this game was. I was convinced England could never win a World Cup without Rooney. Look at Gerrard! My God, I knew he was great but… He’s amazing! I don’t think even Liverpool fans knew he was capable of a game like that. It was Boys Own stuff.

Jose was bowled over by the whole event which we watched inside the Fly In The Loaf on Hardman Street. You couldn’t move an inch but that all added to it. She even considered not catching her flight at all and getting one tomorrow. That’s how this match could convert people. One minute she hates football, the next she’s willing to miss a flight. I can’t imagine ever being so entertained for two and half hours ever again. Until the first World Cup game of course.

It’s not lost on me that I’ll be in America for two of England’s World Cup matches, presuming we get through to the second round, maybe even three depending on when we play the Quarter. It will be fun finding places to watch it. And convert a whole lot more unwitting folk.

If YOU don’t like football, let me tell you know that you DO, you just don’t know you do. Give into it, just like I did with the heroin. I used to think it was for losers but now I think it’s great – couldn’t live without it.

I’m joking, but it’s interesting to consider if it’s possible to give you’re parents a heart attack through writing a Blog?

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