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Written on March 9, 2005, and categorized as Secret and Invisible.
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Yesterday was a good night for Chelsea FC – they beat Barcalona, and this splendid 4-2 victory gave a 5-4 aggregate win to put them in the last eight of the European football competition they call the Champions League. Now I am not a Chelsea fan, but this game was one of the best I have ever watched anywhere, 90 minutes of footballing wonder, a game of 6 goals, skill and drama.

Regular readers will recall that I have been completely cured of football by Cupid, who took his revenge upon me on Valentine’s Day, when my brave, small team was thrashed by local heroes Arsenal. Let it not go unmentioned that we followed that 5-1 defeat by beating Birmingham 2-0 (oh how we loved to see their turncoat manager Steve Bruce whinge) and then taking a point from the mighty Manchester United, the only team left in the domestic league with a hope of catching Chelsea for the national title, and who went out of the Champions League last night by expertly losing 1-0 to Milan.

But, kind citizens of the world, who know not and care not for this game of consummate skill and vast sums of money, this truly global game of football which is played without shoulder pads and in which only the goalkeeper is allowed to pick up the ball, fear not, for I have not recanted and I am not here to mention football except very briefly, in passing. A beautiful fast-paced passing game with many attacking moves. Oh no, I am done with it, and it plays no further time added on for injury. I have substituted a culture of fitness and athleticism for the drinking and gambling, and shortly we will be playing less games per season which should enable the English league to compete regularly at the highest level.

I rode my bicycle home from Tufnell Park, after watching the game with Chelsea fan N, and I took these pictures on the way. You have to be very expert indeed to ride down Tufnell Park Road at night using your camera phone to take snaps of London streets after drinking several large bottles of Czech Budwar and eating copious amounts of peanuts. Children: I suggest practising card tricks on a unicycle downhill after drinking yoghurt, that should give you the very sensation.

Do not try this at your home game.

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This thing has 3 Comments

  1. Blog ho
    Posted 9 March, 2005 at 6:13 pm | Permalink

    superb pics…particularly considering they are from a phone camera.

  2. I.:.S.:.
    Posted 9 March, 2005 at 11:01 pm | Permalink

    The fotos are superb indeed (arbitrary choice of a superlative, could be splendid too) – make me wanna give a superior smile to SLR film purists… “Look, this is beautiful, too!” And I’d like to see you do that on a bike on a rainy night, mthrfckr…

    But the football! I, a life-long hater of the game (let me qualify that: the big-money league, the fuckwit supporters, not the beautiful game itself) had a conversion-type experience due to that game and now consider myself a supporter of a club for the first time ever: I have become a CHELSEA FAN.

    Because I like that fucker Mourinho’s energy and style. Because I’m ever a sucker for rags-to-riches stories like Abramovich’s. Because, I agree with Deek, it was an exceptional game which I watched with joy, even though the most stylish goal was Ronaldinho’s and therefore the opposition’s…

  3. Laurie
    Posted 10 March, 2005 at 2:45 am | Permalink

    Have I mentioned how much I love all your pictures? I thought so. Never mind then.

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