Friends Indeed February 12, 2009
Posted by bazmcstay in Human Nature, Life.Tags: BT, Friendship, Talk, Worry
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Last night, naming no names, a good friend proved their goodness once again. They say a friend in need is a friend indeed. I say that the friend indeed is the friend who’s there for you when you’re the one in need. And real friendship is being able to listen to you. Not tell you to shut up, to stop being ridiculous, to stop running yourself down, but be the ear into which you pour all those innermost terrors and anxieties and reacts to those specific issues rather than spouting platitudes and generalities. When the world gets overpowering, when the problems get too numerous, when the air you breathe becomes stifling with worry, it helps to let it all out. It helps even more if you have such a great friend as the one I could turn to last night. Don’t shut up. Don’t shut out the world. As a BT advert said, it’s good to talk.
I Want My Football Club Back February 4, 2009
Posted by bazmcstay in Football, Personal Favourites.Tags: George Gillet, Liverpool FC, Rafa Benitez, Steven Gerrard, Tom Hicks
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I want my football club back.
I want my days to be full of the joys of great victories over great opponents.
I want to be able to relish the sweetness of 2 late goals against Chelsea, not suffer in the crossfire of 2 feuding owners.
I want to celebrate the dignity of our name, not be derided for the public enmity seeping through the cracks in the walls of this great establishment.
I want to see my inspirational captain lifting glittering trophies, not trudging from the field after another 0-0 draw.
I want the press to be serenading the genius of my team’s craftsmanship, not mocking the manager, the players, the name.
I want to see a team of legendary names playing legendary games, not a collective of overpaid, under-par flyboys.
I want my team to sing in harmony, not to sing from the rooftops when things go awry.
I want my club to rebuild itself from the bottom up, not tear itself down.
I want playing for my club to be a privilege to be earned, not a right to be expected.
I want my club’s owners to either understand what it means to be a part of Liverpool FC, to care as passionately about its successes and weep at its failures, to value the name and the history as much as I do, to use the power and responsibility they possess thanks to their wealth to increase my club’s reputation, not to bolster their coffers, to respect the supporters and the servants of my club in the way they handle its affairs, to handle those affairs within the four walls of the board room rather than in the columns of the tabloids.
I want my club to be my club. Not Tom Hicks’ club or George Gillet’s club. I want my club to be a treasure, decorated with medals and trophies, not tarnished by back-stabbing, instability and public ridicule.
I want my club, Liverpool Football Club, to win every game, every cup, every league. I do not appreciate the way its name has been dragged through the mud in the last 18 months, by half-witted, money-driven, heartless owners, by some players whose words or deeds have belittled my club, and by the press who seek to turn a spark into a blazing inferno and to muddy once-clear waters.
Give me back my club. My Liverpool Football Club.
