THE BRITISH THREAD

I was there, up the...ahem...Emirates!

What a game. For a long time it looked as though Man U were going to get a goal and then, having managed that, to hang on to their lead, if not go 2-0 up but the boys in red-n-white were truly heroic and hung on to the end.

I think we missed Gilberto's presence in midfield to provide stability. He's the kind of player you don't usually notice when he plays but when he doesn't, things don't go to plan.

My own view of tackles is slightly different from Steve's, though I concede that some players were getting "wound up". It seems to be something Fergie teaches them - how to really annoy the opposition by taking extra time over things, arguing, standing over a free kick, mass appeals, etc. Not exactly "sportsmanlike" behaviour, in comparison with some teams but I can't be objective over whether Arsenal do the same.

I have the feeling that encounters with Chelsea are usually better natured. Certainly, the ground's 60,128 attendance made more noise yesterday than I've heard before at the ground.

Oh happy day - if only we'd beaten the "lesser" teams in the autumn.

Yes, we can thank Savage for Gilberto's absence, can't we....

In addition to this, it now looks as if Van Persie is going to be out for at least six weeks with a broken toe!

Still.....we won't get first place now, so all we can really aim for is the No.2 spot.

Like you say, KP...if only.

I was only joking. I didnt think there were any really vicious tackles. It was a classic encounter and great entertainment. We would have settled for a point at the outset, that was probably our undoing when Arsenal equalised. Some great goals and some great football.

As a non-aligned viewer (who had the pleasure of watching the game with a ManU supporter) I was well entertained, and thought Arsenal shaded it, coming on stronger in the second half. For the first 20 mins they weren't in the hunt, but deserved the win on the strength of their second-half performance.
The speed of the game was amazing. I bet on average they all ran twice as far as in the typical continental game.
(I think the Arsenal striker should have had a drug test after the game. He was zooming around like crazy, non-stop for 90 minutes
Obviously some chemical assistance there.)

Dont forget to watch Panorama tonight 8.30 BBC1 about the poisoning of Alexander Litvinenko.

Its my belief the govt is underplaying the importance of it and what it portends.

Imagine the Russians finding a trail of radioactive material spread about Moscow and leading back to UK government labs. Its an act of war.

Panorama is now fronted by Jeremy Vine as well, and he's good.

I'll be keeping one eye on it, Steve. Should be interesting.

It's all online already ...

... and even printed in the papers (The Australian, 23.01.07, page 9)

My Arsenal-supporting son was in a Euston pub when Man U lost, and the Man fans went berserk, ripping up things, throwing stools and beer glasses around = 15 of them managed to empty a pub of 150 in about 5 minutes.

To be fair to the lads, when all is said and done, at the end of the day, it was a game of two halves.

nah 10 pints more like.

The "bad loser" football hooligan, when tanked up on a few pints of London Pride, is something to be avoided.

I would've left the pub as well.

I thought this stuff died out in the bad old 70's. Maybe I just frequent old geezers pubs now, where this type of thing never happens.

Bloody Hell, boys!

Why don't you get yourselves a footy thread.

I'm off, stinks of testosterone round here...

Can't we talk about sex instead?

sussy, do you get The Racing Post? Been reading my Dad 60-70 of the top 100 rides, today, great stuff.

x

Smorgs is right. It's more interesting when we're not talking about football.

Are the budgies going to Blackpool?

Oh- I don't know smorgsie!

There's nowt like a good after-match punch-up in a pub on foreign territory.

It's best after a win of course.

I know some people go to watch the match. Upwardly mobile lower middle-class types. So naturally they associate themselves with the top teams. Accrington Stanley is a turn off. It's a metaphor. They read The Grauniad so they know what metaphors are. Simple ones I mean. And they only talk in cliches. They are boring I agree. I'm so old and shagged out that if I ever got into a predicament in a country house hotel I would hire them to bore me stiff.

Top 100 rides is another matter entirely but I can only discuss the 75 to 100 range( mid 70s about) as the other ones I was personally involved in and I don't care to talk about myself.

The one Lester gave Roberto in the Derby springs to mind. I wouldn't like anybody whacking my arse like that for nearly two furlongs even if he had stroked my ears after the winning post lovingly. Some people thought that they would never get it in a horsebox again.

But they did for the Dante at York and got some Italian jock over to ride it.

They probably thought that it would act up if it saw Lester again.

He won by 12 lengths in a real canter. Never off the bridle.

Scobie Breasley died recently you know. But you had better keep that out of your stories. You would only have been a kid when he was riding. Conjuring sometimes. Running around the streets scratching yourself.

The good old days eh? Bring back the good old days. Footie on Saturdays, church on Sundays and work on Mondays.

I wonder what would have happened if they had kept quiet about television which they should have done if they had had any sense. Or at least kept to one channel.

What aspects of the sexual question would like to discuss?

They're bloody canaries, Muckty!

I'm phoning for arrangements at 10.00a.m. tomorrow. I've got to sort our some carrying boxes, but still Bispam isn't too far and Linda said she would come with.

It was so kind of you to sort that out for me. I'll buy the coffees next time. Had a horiible afternoon, btw. Proper shouty man, just what I didn't need... had to go into a Jobcentre Zen state to deal with him without any signs of stress, I'm so good at smiling when I'm fuming inside, I surprise myself sometimes. It's 'cos I'm a woman, w-o-m-a-n, I'll say it again...

Linda thought you were 'charming' (tee hee) but don't worry, I soon put her straight. We passed a giggly hour by talking to the customers in different accents.

What's the name of that scotch mist thing again? Har? Haas?

There's bin a murrrderrr!

x

spendius wrote:



You don't know how true that is!

But I never ran... even when I had nits and Impetigo, I was always being pushed on a bogey or launching myself of a suitable hill. Then when we got posh and had the kaazy moved indoors, a floor laid in the kitchen, and the upstairs back-bedroom window re-glazed, I acquired a second-hand bike, painted it red myself, with little pots of air-fix paints, nicked from Quarmby's. I could cook a full Sunday dinner for six by the time I was ten... life is a hell of lot harder for poorer girls, then it was for boys.

As for sex...

What do you fancy talking about? I know let's start with your cellibasy (which I can't spell, and spell-check isn't working). Don't you miss it? Don't you miss soft, nice smelling, warm things in your bed?

x

smorgsie wrote-



Like Ann Widdicombe you mean.

No I bloody well don't. I dislike scent and perfumes so "nice smelling" might not mean the same thing to me as it does to some.

And there are other attributes which come along with your image assuming you are not referring to a pile of hay. Priorities change. Adjustments need to be undertaken. Hard-earned cash has to be poured down a bottomless drain and grating noises have to be listened to with understanding and forebearance. Not to mention the snoring and the sight the eyes have to drink in in the morning.

It isn't all skeer and bittles. It has a downside which young men tend to overlook in their eagerness.

Did you see that movie where Richard Chamberlain was a pious priest who Barbara Stanwyk rendered into a juddering mass of jelly.

Bispham's bloody miles. Get him to meet you halfway, he's got nowt else to do.

A cold mist is a Haar. I bet that's a Dutch word.

http://www.rampantscotland.com/parliamo/blparliamo_weather.htm

A cold mist is a cold mist. Why anybody wants to give one a name, apart from a bloody nuisance, I can't imagine.

Now I've got another brain cell cluttered up with the sodding Haar. And I haven't all that many to spare. I hope I can forget it.

It wasn't Barbara Stanwyk, it was a young actress called Rachel Ward who went to school with my friend Sandy. I love priests being seduced

And you think I need to be told that.

At my age.

But the magic moment was when Ronnie put his arm around the Chinese teenager and led him away to safety.

That did more for Sino-British relations than the Diplomatic Service could ever dream of doing despite their superiority in funding and educational attainments and having had a well spent youth. You can bet on it.