Slipperduke
The Camden Cad
Extraordinary scenes at The Emirates this week where journalists in town for the big clash between Arsenal and Liverpool were served up with a little sporting hors deouvre as two respectable, well known British hacks went for each other's throats and had to be seperated by their colleagues. The unspoken rules of my profession forbid me from naming names, but it was the breach of that code that started the trouble in the first place.
An innocuous piece last week in one of the British broadsheets accused several newspapers of misrepresenting Fabio Capello's comments about David Beckham being England's 'Ronaldo'. This is frowned upon in the close-knit circle of football journalism. You can attack players and managers, it appears, but you never attack each other. One heavyweight columnist responded to the accusations by very publicly pointing out in that the man who had made them co-wrote Peter Crouch's autobiography and, if he was so interested in tranparency, perhaps he could declare that interest every time he wrote about him. The row simmered gently until they 'bumped' into each other on Wednesday night.
It is depressing to report that the battle royal of two of this generation's finest wordsmiths could conjure up no insults more eloquent than, and I paraphrase for decency's sake, "You started it, you twonk," and, "Why don't you fudge off, you fat punt."
Ladies and Gentlemen; the glamour of journalism!
An innocuous piece last week in one of the British broadsheets accused several newspapers of misrepresenting Fabio Capello's comments about David Beckham being England's 'Ronaldo'. This is frowned upon in the close-knit circle of football journalism. You can attack players and managers, it appears, but you never attack each other. One heavyweight columnist responded to the accusations by very publicly pointing out in that the man who had made them co-wrote Peter Crouch's autobiography and, if he was so interested in tranparency, perhaps he could declare that interest every time he wrote about him. The row simmered gently until they 'bumped' into each other on Wednesday night.
It is depressing to report that the battle royal of two of this generation's finest wordsmiths could conjure up no insults more eloquent than, and I paraphrase for decency's sake, "You started it, you twonk," and, "Why don't you fudge off, you fat punt."
Ladies and Gentlemen; the glamour of journalism!
