So, here is the situation. England need only to draw their final European Championship qualifier, away in Montenegro, to qualify for next summers tournament. We are winning 2-1, midway through the second half and in complete control of the game. Everything is going according to plan. Enter the footballing suicide bomber that is Wayne Rooney. With his pin out. In a completely harmless area of the pitch, where all he had to do was track back and hold a defensive line, he is tackled quite fairly by a defender and loses the ball. Instead of just letting it go and getting back behind the ball he lashes out with his boot and kicks the opponent on the back of his legs, producing the usual response from an opponent which is to yelp like a stuck pig and pirrouete three times whilst performing a perfect double salko and somersault in the piked position before writhing in agony on the pitch. The referee had no choice but to red card Rooney and all of a sudden we are under pressure. Down to ten players and the Montenegrans can smell blood.
In the end the game finished 2-2 and England have qualified for the Euro champs but we will start without Shrek who will have at least a one match ban and possibly miss the entire group phase if UEFA take a hard line, which wouldnt surprise me, given his previous.
We should be elated right now and chuffed to bits that we've qualified again, instead there is a feeling of let down, that our best footballer just happens to also be a daft bastard who should spend the periods between matches in psychotherapy or transcendental meditation in order to soothe the savage beast that undoubtedly lurks within. I bloody despair, honestly I do.
Oct 07, 2011 @ 21:36:01
