Zidane, Figo, Beckham, the fat Ronaldo, Kaka, the pouting Ronaldo, in a mere few hours the next in the long line of big name, Galactico, Madrid debuts will occur. Yeah, that's right I'm lacing up the boots and promptly putting the boot in. Mind you saying "lacing up" and "boots" is a little misleading. I managed after a search that was more difficult than it should have been to get some pretty rubbish white trainers with some less than charming velcro bits. It seems that Spanish man have the tiny feet of dancers. I however do not, and you know what they say about people with big feet, thats right... big shoes. Old ones are the best and all that. Watching from the sideline is my natural position and dabbles into actually playing are rare. Theres been some trash talking this week, getting into footballs natural mental state, despite not having teams decided. Got to get it in early just in case. A lot of the guys playing are Irish and I have said if I get the chance I will try to Henry the ball past one of them which was met with the threat that I will be De Jonged. If anyone is unfamiliar with these two latest verb additions to the English language, to Henry is to commit a shameless and brazen handball and to De Jong someone is to kick them squarely in the chest, see above. Neil has already informed me that he has an elbow first policy, it could get out of hand. At least whatever happens it can't be worse than whats happening at Charlton, though based on the last few years I wouldn't bet that it will stay that bad at Charlton for long, theres always the possibility it will get much worse.
In the real world, school has been good. I like my groups more and more, especially my teenagers. They seem to be the only group of teenagers, certinanly at our school, and possibly in the world that don't seem to mind being in class on Saturday mornings. At least they can keep their contempt to themselves. The main thing I've been doing with them is watching part of TV programme. The text book has an article about the show 7-up, the one when they come back every 7 years to the same group of people to talk about the life lessons they have learnt. The books talks about Neil so I thought we could watch some, I realised that his life wasn't completely happy but I wasn't ready and neither were the students for the turn it took half way through into homelessness, mental instability and even a few thoughts of suicide. It just got dark in here. Though the thing the students were disturbed by was the sight of a local pantomine, "does that actually happen?". Unfortunately yes it does. I just looked up what happened to Neil next, fortunately it gets better, he's healthy and just ran to be the Lib Dem MP for Carlisle, so there you go. I'll leave any political jokes to your good selves, with the exception of Phil Parkinson, I try not to kick someone when they are down.
Julia managed another class well, switching from future to past as if it was the most natural thing in the world. I think she has a new boyfriend otherwise I don't have any idea who the guy with green trousers in the front room has been for the last few days. Though maybe Julia looks at him and thinks he's my new boyfriend as she doesn't seem to be around most of the time. Coloured trousers are something I can neither forgive nor forget, but he's nice so even if he is just a stranger it could be a lot worse.
I really like Madrid but Madrid might not like me as some hilarious prankster threw an egg at me from a moving car. Strangely it broke but I got no egg on me which I couldn't work out. I wanted to be more annoyed but more annoyingly I found myself admiring the shot, it was a fair distance and right on the neck and from a moving car must have been tricky. Fair play you bastard.
love love love x
No comments:
Post a Comment