I Mean, If I Absolutely HAD To
Just Like The Carpenters

Patrick Told Someone That My Midlife Crisis Is Soccer

Next up in the random question queue (number 39):

How you are coping with Chelsea's poor performance this season?


I have nothing to say.


Heh. Mourinho's post game interview? Anyone? After their 3-1 loss to Liverpool at the Bridge? It was like the journalist was Sisyphus, vainly trying to push his boulder of questions up Mourinho's steep slope of recalcitrance.

It went like this:

Q: What do you think of this defeat?

A: I have nothing to say.

Q: Don't you think the season has been a disaster so far?

A: I have nothing to say.

Q: Does this raise some concerns for you, ahem, personally?

A: What do you mean?

Q: YOU know (while, no doubt, the interviewer was making the universal gesture for You're About to Get Tim Sherwood'ed)

A: I have nothing to say.

Q: You have nothing to say?

A: I have nothing to say.  

The only actual response Mourinho gave was when he was asked if he had some message for the fans and he answered, "The fans are not stupid."

When the interviewer noted, "They were chanting your name"; Mourinho replied, "Like I said, they are not stupid."

It was all so amusing that I saved the recording in order to play it for Steve later and I can easily see it becoming part of our shared vernacular, charming Portuguese accent and all.

Who left the milk on the counter all afternoon? I hahv nothink to say.

What do you mean you don't know when you are coming back from the farm? I hahv nothink to say.


So to answer your question: I am trying to keep my spirits up, doing as well as can be expected, putting one foot in front of the other, getting out of bed in the morning.

For you non-futballers it is hard to fully express how very good Chelsea was last season and how very bad they are now. It's like the Patriots getting beaten by the Titans 51-3. At home. Every week. It's like the '95-'96 Chicago Bulls losing to the Washington Generals. It's jaw-dropping. It's baffling.

But if I am going to be completely honest I will admit that while loss after Chelsea loss engenders feelings of bewilderment and gloom in me; it is nothing - nothink - compared to the emotions I experienced when Poland scored that one critical goal against Scotland in the last freaking millisecond of the Euro qualifiers in October. I was curled in a ball on the couch moaning, "Blow the whistle, blow the whistle, blow the whistle" and then... Lewandoski. Speaking of shared vernacular 'Lewandoski!' is now what I exclaim when I slam my finger in a drawer or discover that the milk had been on the counter all afternoon. It is the bitterest of expletives and while I grudgingly acknowledge that he is a brilliant soccer player - who did I just watch Bayern play? I don't remember but I was struck by the fact that Lewandoski can hover six feet off the ground - I will never forgive him.

But enough about that. It is STILL too soon to talk about it. It will ALWAYS be too soon.

So yes I am grieved by Chelsea (Hazard in particular. What happened to him? Is he doing this on purpose? Did someone threaten his family? Blink twice if you're not acting of your own accord, Hazard) but I am discovering that to football is to grieve. It comes with the territory and I now understand the true purpose of fanwear. I use my Chelsea scarf to cover my eyes and I chew on my Scotland jersey when my nails are gone.

PS I posted this and then went to watch the last fifteen minutes of Chelsea v Stoke City. Gak. Gak gak gak gak gaaaaaaaak.

PPS They lost, by the way.

PPPS Of course.