Thursday, January 05, 2006

Wakey wakey! Aren't you dressed for school yet?

Aren't ten year-olds imaginative?

I should know - speaking as a ten year old boy. I'm certainly having a very imaginative dream anyway.

In it, I've already gone through 31 years. I've dreamed myself right into the year 2006. It is quite a good story though. Well, it starts quite well anyway.

It has probably only actually lasted about five seconds in real life. Apparently you can get though years in just a few seconds in a dream.

Anyway, here I am, typing on something called a Computer - my own Computer! It's got a sort of typewriter on the front and a funny screen that looks like a tea-tray. And the whole world can see everything I write!

I went to bed last night and as soon as I dozed off, it started. The first thing that happened was that Brian Clough - that loudmouth who I watched on Parkinson when I was let stay up late - arrives at the City Ground - TOMORROW MORNING!

Its a fabulous dream, but a bit far-fetched to be honest. Probably the best bit is the way that all of those Derby fans at school get so pissed off all the way through it. I wish someone had pinched me awake when it got to 1993 though....

Ah yes. The 5th of January 1975. I hope that there will be something better on the radio soon. All of that crap by Led Zeppelin and Genesis that the big boys are listening to is a bit hard to take if you ask me....

Tags: , , .


brockway said...

Rod liddle in the Sunday Times last October on footballing delusions of grandeur:

"Spend a few moments in the company of a Nottingham Forest supporter and it is rather like being granted an audience by a minor royal who has just been removed from the civil list and may shortly be forced, for the first time in her life, to do an honest day’s work. You cannot quite believe the presumption and the snobbery and the misplaced sense of injustice. Forest’s supporters are the most deluded of all, constantly reminding you of Cloughie’s achievements in much the same way that the ludicrous Princess Michael of Kent, when asked to justify her existence, might direct you to her grand lineage. It’s all a question of breeding, you see. Well, not any more, it isn’t.

At the same time, we should concede that it is rather impressive that those epic underachievers — to which we might add the names of Newcastle United, Bristol City, Bristol Rovers, Sunderland and even Spurs — continue to draw vast crowds for the most demeaning of fixtures despite decade upon decade of ineffectual centre- forwards, idiotic managers and incompetent chairmen. They have been badly let down: the love for their club has been cruelly unrequited. And yet still they turn up, convinced that what they are witnessing is a blip or an anomaly.

Forest still contrive to draw a magnificent 25,000 souls as they flail around at the wrong end of League One with their insouciant, overpaid and — in some cases — overweight squad.

Next season might well bring a nice local derby with Boston — only 45 minutes on the train. You sure it’s a blip, boys? What will it take to convince you that it’s not a blip at all, but the way things are likely to be from here on?"

Paulie said...

Rod Liddle is a cunt.