Monday, 5 April 2010
The moment the ball flew off Didier Drogba's boot and rifled in to the back of Edwin van Der Sar's net, with the heavy suspicion of offside, I knew, predictably, that Ferguson would instantaneously begin rehearsing his ensuing wrath about the officials for the post match press conference.
The replays, as expected confirmed that the linesmen had made a glaring mistake, and I am sure the incrimination, would have had the offending man in black panic stricken, also bringing in to question his chosen profession. Why on earth would you be a linesman?? Is this not a job that could have been replaced by a more efficient and accurate machine? Holes in the wall can dispense cash, arguably with more polite delivery than their human counterparts, so why is there not a machine that can judge offsides? Failing robotic linesmen, at least give them the use of a video replay.
Sunday, 4 April 2010
A thumbing swing from Adebayor, a neat hook inside the post by Bellamy, and a jab from Tevez. Ding-ding-ding. With little over 6 minutes on the clock, or the equivalent of two rounds of boxing, Manchester City managed to pulverize Burnley, in what was more like a towering heavy weight vs a whimpering feather weight than a Premier League match.
Friday, 2 April 2010
Probably my earliest memory of football, is kicking a yellow and black air floater around the back garden, or once I had graduated from those confines, out on to the green in front of our terrace house with one of my oldest and best mates, Adam (aka sanj).
The trials and tribulations of my local team, and place of birth, Worcester City could not have been further from my care free mind. I was far too busy gathering jumpers for goal posts and taking turns in goal, to even contemplate Worcester City FC's very existence.