Defeat to Liverpool is now forgotten, for the sake of marriage and business

I emerged into the sunlight this morning, having finally, I hope, got over the Liverpool mugging. I have a business partner who’s a Liverpool fan and, trust me on this, I’ve eaten some dirt. That defeat was brutal. My meals have been brought to me in a locked room and I was judged fit enough not be a danger to myself and others only this morning and was allowed out.

It seems we’ve had some snow. And we beat Blackburn in the 3rd round of the FA Cup. I’m pleased about that, of course, but it’s not enough. I want Merseyside destroyed in a holocaust. A nuclear weapon would do it. I had a rhapsody prepared in praise of our victory, and all I got was a TV screen full of crazed bin-dippers roaring like they’d won a trophy or something. O death, where is thy sting?

It’s classical Greek drama, of course. I had allowed myself the luxury of anticipating the win and the football gods had some fun with me. I’d rail and curse at them but I’m frightened they might wreck our season completely and get us relegated. You know how it is.

I’ve had a letter from ‘Arry Windsor’s mum, Elizabeth (née York). By all accounts she read the blog last week and wanted to write to me to confirm that, indeed, she feels that football management would be a good career move for him when he comes out of the army.

It’s the first time I’ve had a letter from someone whose portrait was on the stamp. Anyway, she said did I know anyone at Liverpool FC, and could I get him an interview. I phoned her back on the number at the top of the letter and said I’d try and was there anything in it for me? She said did I fancy a knighthood or a minor dukedom. Wouldn’t that be legend - “Sir Jerry”. I’d be far too grand to talk to the riff-raff on this site.

‘Arry Windsor’s post-match interview technique would be a little different than the Waiter’s. Benitez deals with difficult questions by shuffling his feet and darting his eyes around the room. He thinks calling the ref “perfect” is devastating satire. This kind of thing may well be what passes for humour on the Iberian Peninsula but ‘Arry would have a different approach. If some snot-nosed reporter from Sky Sport posed a searching question to ‘Arry, he’d have him arrested for treason and stuck in the Tower. Sorted.

In all seriousness, I do wish that football managers and players didn’t feel the need to be erudite and articulate when being interviewed. We know they’re not brain surgeons, they’re working-class sportsmen. They keep using the words like “hopefully” in a desperate attempt not to seem arrogant, as in: “Can you win on Saturday?” – “Well, hopefully, we’ll play well, and, hopefully, we’ll bring back the three points. Hopefully.”.

Can’t they just tell the truth? “We hate the bastards and we intend to stick it up ‘em”. Torres; it had to be Torres. Any other match and he’d have been injured or on International duty. Or something.

Was it the eighth minute of added time? Something like that. Some referees would even have blown full-time by then. The ball squirted out to Torres from a ricochet and I knew – we all knew - he‘d score. Had a similar chance fallen to a Villa striker, he’d have fluffed it. That’s what hurts; it’s so unfair. We can’t even take it out on Wigan, they’ve gone and cancelled it.

The missus says if I don’t get over this I’m going to have to go for counselling. So that’s it; I won’t mention it again. Hopefully.

Jerry, otherwise know as churchill, is back and you can also submit your own views if you wish. Click on the contact link at the top of the page.