It’s been a hard day so I’m going to take my shoes off. I may be standing on a London Overground service, surrounded by strangers, but I no longer care. I am not comfortable and any one put out by it can suck a big one. That’s it. The shoe pops off and my feet unwrinkle, toes cracking in the freedom of the air-conditioned surroundings. I’m going to just let them hang, let them feel free and the toe jam to marinade. It’s great and no one seems to care. People are obviously too preoccupied with their anger at the breakdown of the fast train. They finger wagged with such aplomb and shouted obscenities at the driver. It’s not the driver’s fault I thought and I hope to think I would have got in between and halted the escalation of an altercation. Defending this man in the face of a horde. A horde of likely lads and salary men; who want to be angry at something but don’t quite know what that thing is. They’ll be angry at a man who is doing his best for the safety of his passengers but will remain nonplussed by the train service who consistently raise fares year after year. And whose lack of investment in the maintenance and upkeep of the trains has led us all to this exact point, somewhere approaching Hatch End. It seems a bit weird to me. But I guess one should never challenge the deeper issues of society, better to shout and scream and stamp at the smallest alteration to one’s daily routine. Life, I guess. My toe jam looks quite pretty as it catches the last bit of light and the smell still hasn’t reached me or any of my neighbours. I’m content and can’t wait for the re-run of this tomorrow.
I think I love Antoine Griezmann. To reiterate, I love him. I don’t quite know the boundaries of these feelings, like I don’t think I’d want to have sex with him but there is a serious man crush there. It stems from FIFA career modes that I am definitely sure of. Given a reasonable budget at any mid-to-high European super club, barring the top 4 Bayern, Real, Barcelona and Juventus, Griezmann, or the style of play he embodies would be the first order of business. I don’t like pure finishers, they tend to be laborious in their movement, the game slows to accommodate them or in the opposite case they are so quick that their footballing ability, link up play et all lacks. Granted, they have a place in the squad, a useful substitute, the big man up top, playing off him in the disorder he creates, but never a bonafide starter. So, I’ve seen Harry Kane depart, replaced by the waspish Son, Aubameyang sold for his mate Lacazette to reign supreme, Nabil Fekir, Lorenzo Insigne, Bojan Krkic, Nolito, Dybala. And of course, lovely Antoine with his cute curls. Centre Forwards, very different to strikers. All over the place, pressers, first time passers, allowing me to play a 4-3-3, with both 3’s able to interchange, attacking and defending as an organism. I may miss out on some goals due to a lack of expertise but it makes it far more enjoyable. To be a manager in a virtual world. Why did I decide the grandiose gesture of cutting the game up would be a good idea? I love you Antoine.
James Creber 