Slipperduke
The Camden Cad
No matter how lethargic and fuzzy-headed you feel this Monday morning, no matter how unenthusiastic you were about the idea of leaving your bed, console yourself with the knowledge that at least one person out there is having it worse than you. Somewhere, presumably on Merseyside, one little boy is about to have the worst day at school ever. The producers of 'Match of the Day' were wise enough to blur out his face, but others were not so kind. His picture is out there. Balloon Boy's pocket money is no longer his own.
With one petulant slap of his hand, Balloon Boy launched a ticking time-bomb onto the field of play and so began a hideous chain reaction of events. A shot was diverted, a goal was scored, a game was lost. Balloon Boy ended Liverpool's title challenge in an instant. Because of his actions, Rafa Benitez must work under the shadow of the reaper, knowing that defeat to Manchester United next weekend could fatally compromise him, robbing him of the job he loves so dearly. With no Benitez, and no money for his replacement to rebuild the squad, Liverpool will drop out of the Champions League places and into a financial black hole. Relegation will surely follow. The club will go under, the stadium will be sold to a supermarket chain and the Shankley Gates will be melted down and remoulded into Manchester United-branded commemerative cutlery. Be assured that this will be the crux of the argument for Balloon Boy's classmates as they poke him with sticks.
Damned are those who bring inflatables to football matches. Manchester City fans found this out in 2008 when their sky blue balloons diverted a cross away from Michael Ball allowing Luton Shelton to score the goal that knocked them out of the FA Cup. But, for real ballon-related devilry, few can compare to Stelios Giannakopoulos who, in April 2007, pushed the boundaries of etiquette over a ravine. With 84 minutes gone, Bolton led by a single goal, but then Reading were awarded a penalty. As Kevin Doyle stepped up to the spot, Stelios whipped a balloon out of his socks, puffed it up, tied the little knot and burst it just before the kick was taken. What kind of Machevellian mind produces such mischief? It matters not, for it came to naught. The Gods of Football were angered, Doyle kept his composure, scored the penalty and, from a goal down, Reading went on to win 3-1.
In football, as in the bedroom, inflatables bring nothing but shame upon their owners. There's something for Balloon Boy to think about as his head is flushed down the toilet for the 17th time.
With one petulant slap of his hand, Balloon Boy launched a ticking time-bomb onto the field of play and so began a hideous chain reaction of events. A shot was diverted, a goal was scored, a game was lost. Balloon Boy ended Liverpool's title challenge in an instant. Because of his actions, Rafa Benitez must work under the shadow of the reaper, knowing that defeat to Manchester United next weekend could fatally compromise him, robbing him of the job he loves so dearly. With no Benitez, and no money for his replacement to rebuild the squad, Liverpool will drop out of the Champions League places and into a financial black hole. Relegation will surely follow. The club will go under, the stadium will be sold to a supermarket chain and the Shankley Gates will be melted down and remoulded into Manchester United-branded commemerative cutlery. Be assured that this will be the crux of the argument for Balloon Boy's classmates as they poke him with sticks.
Damned are those who bring inflatables to football matches. Manchester City fans found this out in 2008 when their sky blue balloons diverted a cross away from Michael Ball allowing Luton Shelton to score the goal that knocked them out of the FA Cup. But, for real ballon-related devilry, few can compare to Stelios Giannakopoulos who, in April 2007, pushed the boundaries of etiquette over a ravine. With 84 minutes gone, Bolton led by a single goal, but then Reading were awarded a penalty. As Kevin Doyle stepped up to the spot, Stelios whipped a balloon out of his socks, puffed it up, tied the little knot and burst it just before the kick was taken. What kind of Machevellian mind produces such mischief? It matters not, for it came to naught. The Gods of Football were angered, Doyle kept his composure, scored the penalty and, from a goal down, Reading went on to win 3-1.
In football, as in the bedroom, inflatables bring nothing but shame upon their owners. There's something for Balloon Boy to think about as his head is flushed down the toilet for the 17th time.
