Football With Photos (Part One)
I recorded this video nearly four years ago during the last European Championships. I am putting it up now because Hbernian, my favourite team, are in the Scottish Cup Final today and if they win then one of the jokes in this video will be obsolete.
Fortunately the joke is not good enough to warrant me not wanting Hibs to win the cup because even though I slag football off quite a bit in this video I am still a sucker for it. Mind you, I don’t lose all rationale and want to fight people over it. I’ll leave that to the dunderheeds.
I am a bit of a football fan. I support a team from Edinburgh called Hibernian. Not many people outside of Scotland have heard of them. Come to think of it, not even everybody from Edinburgh has heard of them.
Their ground used to be famous for having a slope on it but they sorted that out a few years ago. Fortunately it wasn’t quite as bad as this and sloped from one end to the other rather than from one side to the other.
I blame my dad for the fact that I’m a Hibs supporter because when I was younger I wanted to support Real Madrid….but my dad point blank refused to take me to the Bernabau Stadium every other Saturday. Bloody cheapskate.
He managed to brainwash me into becoming a Hibs supporter by saying, “You don’t want to support Real Madrid son, they win all the time!!! And you need to learn that life’s not like that. Come on with me to watch the Hibs at Easter Road….. and then you can be a loser, just like me.”
Aye, thanks Dad. I really appreciate that.
Football supporters go on about the ‘history’ of the club like it’s something actually important. I can remember my dad’s friends trying to reinforce his brainwashing.
They would say “Aye son, you’ve picked a good club to support, this clubs got a fine tradition and a great history. Like the time we last won the Scottish Cup……in 1902”
“A great history? It sounds more like ancient history to me”
But I used to love going with my Dad to watch Hibs though because I was allowed to swear in front of him for the first time. And it was all legal and above board, it was great.
I’d say “Hey Dad you see that guy there, the big Number 4, he’s a bloody animal, isn’t he Dad, he’s just a big bloody animal”
I didn’t jump straight into hardcore swearing; I had to test the ground out first, to see what I could get away with. I wasn’t going to repeat what my Dad had just called the referee; I mean that would have been suicidal on my behalf.
My Dad was as proud as punch though. It was like I’d just taken my first baby steps. He was like that Foghorn Leghorn cartoon character with a tear in his eye, “That’s a m’boy, that’s a m’boy. Just don’t tell your mum I said you could say that”
“Ok no problem Dad. Us men need to stick together, you can rely on me”
A couple of weeks later I’d gotten a bit more brave in front of my dad and I’d forgotten all about our verbal agreement. When we got home my Mum asked, “Well, did you enjoy the game?”
“Oh mum, it was great. The referee was a blind bastard though, and those Jambos are cunts, but apart from that it was fucking magic!!!”
My mum looked at my Dad “Where did he get language like that from?”
My dad was like, “Well, he didnae get it fae fucking me. I don’t know where the fuck the laddie got it from but I’m telling you now, it wasnae fae fucking me! It must have been fae those bastard Hearts fans. Bloody animals”
I do think we take football a little too seriously at times, don’t you?
I can remember the exact time when I thought ‘Ok, we’ve taken this football lark a little too far’.
It was when I was watching a game a couple of years ago between Barcelona and Real Madrid. And to give you the background to this particular game, Luis Figo the Real Madrid player had just been sold from their arch rivals Barcelona for a then world record 38 Million Pound and he was coming back to play in Barcelona’s stadium for the first time since is transfer.
And the Barcelona fans were giving their former hero dog’s abuse. I mean 90 minutes solid abuse. While taking a corner kick, he even had a pig’s head thrown at him.
It was unreal. As I was watching it I thought ‘Jesus Christ….Hitler wouldn’t deserve that much abuse….and he murdered 38 million.’
Which I believe is still a world record. Although, to be fair, American Imperialism is trying it’s best to catch up.
In Scotland, everybody seems to think that there is such a big difference between the two main rivals, Rangers and Celtic. What, with Rangers having their ties to the Queen and the Protestant Church,
and Celtic having their ties with the Pope and the Catholic Church.
But see me, I think there is about as much difference between Rangers and Celtic…as there is between fucking Pepsi Cola and Coca-Cola. I think that they both rot your teeth.
Do you know when I first realised that? I was watching an old firm game on the television and the camera showed a close up of the Celtic fans before the game….and they all looked like Shane MacGowan of the Pogues!!!
Then they had a close up of the Rangers fans….. and they all looked like…..Shane MacGowan of the Pogues!!
I thought ‘you know, either these guys drink a lot of Cola or there’s something fucking weird going on here.’
I think it would be really funny if at the next Rangers and Celtic game, none of the fans turned up. The players and commentators alike would be dumbfounded.
“What the hell is going on? This is an old firm derby. Where’s all the hatred and bigotry that we have come to love and cherish over the years?”
It would be especially funny if all the fans turned up outside the ground to mutually burn their scarves and then get a game organised between themselves.
I’m sure the exercise would do them good.
Well, you can always dream that we can put our differences aside and come together in a dream team, can’t you? I know I do.