I always know when it’s going to rain. It’s like all my senses heighten. I can smell it in the air, see it in the sky and feel it in the air on my skin. I don’t mean to get all poetic with you, but it’s a fact. I should have been a shepherd.
Come to think of it, why would shepherds need to know when it was going to rain? It’s not like sheep shrink in the wash. That particular woolly issue doesn’t surface until after they have been sheared and the wool made into clothes. I guess, in hindsight, I should have been a weather forecaster. Except I can’t forecast it by much. It’s more like… it will rain in the next hour – you should go mow the lawn now.
I think, overall, I should probably just be a nag.
I was gaily told by Thom, on Thursday last week, that he would ‘see me in four weeks’. He doesn’t mean it quite that literally, but he was referring to the World Cup of course (and to a 2 night fishing competition he has next weekend). It seems that he plans on spending much of his time in the local pub, shouting abuse at the television along with lots of other beer-drinking men. I suspect that what will happen is closer to… England will squeak through this round and will go out in the next. I’m no football pundit, but it seems to me that they’ve taken lots of keen kit-wearing kids and a few old souls to keep an eye on them as the England team this year. In typically English fashion, although we lost the match against Italy, English men are to be heard saying that we at least ‘put on a good show’. Pff, dudes – we lost.
If we’re going to lose the games anyway, and putting on a good show gets us bonus points, we should have sent Chas n Dave, or the more famous members of Status Quo, or someone else very English and quite amusing instead of overpaid football players. So, my first eleven England team would comprise.
It may seem a little 0ff-the-wall, but I have good solid reasons for choosing the people I have. For one, they are all very well, English. And each has special powers, like this…
Dame Judi Dench – goalkeeper
Dame Judi is just the beloved of the English, she’s practically royalty. Who in their right mind would want to fire a football at her? Nobody. She’s therefore the ideal goalie and while the ball is up the other end of the pitch, can smile delightfully at the crowd and give us the ‘Aw’ factor.
Rick Parfitt and Francis Rossi – L and R defence
On and off and on again… Rick and Francis sure know how to keep a career going and, judging by the lyrics to Burning Bridges, sending them off makes no difference at all.
David Tennant (The best Dr Who) – Central defence
Who better than Dr Who, defender of the earth, to be the Central Defender? Nobody better, that’s who! Okay, we’ll forget for now that the actor is Scottish and the character is Gallifreyan, we love him and he can do any accent you task him with.
Chas n Dave and Ant n Dec – Midfielders
The midfield is a classic combo of partnerships. These guys know exactly what the other is doing, alll the time. Millennia have passed and still these perky pairs delight and surprise their fans with terrible music and chirpy chappie optimism. If anyone can get that ball and point it in our direction, it’s these terrible twosomes.
Benedict Cumberbatch (Sherlock Holmes) – Right attack
The man who knows it all, or can figure it out so quickly it looks like he’s a precog, would be a valuable asset up front. His wit, intelligence and cheekbones would make sure that any curve balls didn’t fool him. He can bend it like Beckham and also like Uri Geller.
Daniel Radcliffe (Harry Potter) – Central attack
Some say that having a seeker on a broom score goals for England would be cheating, but let’s not forget all this boy went through. Losing his parents, losing Sirius, Dumbledore, Lupin, Tonks, Hedwig, Dobby, Fred Weasley and Colin Creavey, and still managing to kill off Voldemort’s bits of soul and finally, the evil git himself. Nobody can say Harry hasn’t earned his place on the team. Here’s one for the man with the lightning scar!
Vinnie Jones (Left attack)
Although Vinnie was in defence when he played football (oh yes, to those of you who only watch his movies where men grunt and murder each other and the fabulous ‘Stayin Alive’ resuscitation advert he did, you’re almost missing out) I’d love to see that scary ol’ face up front. Imagine that coming towards you when you’ve nothing between you but your gonads quaking in your goalie shorts and the net behind. I’d clear out of the way if I were the goalie.
Now, I appreciate, I may have mixed up some netballing terms in there instead of football ones, but the principle is the same, except with feet instead of hands – and you can run instead of having to stand still when you get the ball, and also you don’t have to wear a silly skirt and bib effort when you play footy. But aside from all that… it’s almost the same game.
If England had put forward my team, various things would be achieved.
1) England would be united behind their team, women and children would watch the matches and we’d all be happy
2) We’d lose but we’d put on a better show than ALL the other teams, so it would be a moral victory
3) We’d be loved again in Europe and somewhat more in the rest of the world, instead of hated like we are when we actually try to compete seriously.
Just you know, consider my proposal. It’s not like the other England managers have been so great, is it?
Lots of love, Pizza Slut aka Meri the Manager xox