Lunchtime Legends – End of season round up

By The Oxford Chap (The Oxford Chap)

The Fighting Cock enjoyed this so much that we thought we’d share it with you. We warn in advance that it only has a fleeting reference to Tottenham, but you might yet get something from it. Basically, we take you for more than philistines.

For more of The Oxford Chap’s musings click here

What had hoped to be a mildly amusing anecdote and an excuse to “run around a bit”, soon turned out to be the inevitable shit sandwich it was always destined to be. And unfortunately, the romantic notions of somehow being spotted by Tottenham Hotspur scouts and rushed into the first team, fell on deaf ears to whoever is in charge too. Know this; participating in a 5-a-side football league with your work colleagues is infinitely worse than not participating in a 5-a-side football league with your work colleagues. The whole thing is basically an exercise in trying to make yourself look better than the man next to you. There is zero comradery and little or no desire to play the beautiful game. Just a pitch full of shouting, posturing, deluded, henpecked men who think they are much better than what they actually are. Everyone is so eager to show that they’ve “still got it”, despite clearly “never having it”. It’s like watching an older woman lower her standards to be accepted, actually scrap that! It’s like being on Facebook, which in turn is the equivalent of having a meal with your loved ones, while outside a crowd of school mates, work associates and one night stands watch your every mouthful through the dining room window. And whilst those who witnessed you following through on the trampoline that time in PE watch as you ask your mum to pass the salt, you can’t help but wonder whatever happened to tasteful elegance? And to a lesser extent, how am I supposed to soar like an eagle, when I’m surrounded by turkeys?

I am ever thankful for the fat knacker who mistook me for a pie and accidently fractured my rib whilst trying to consume me, thus allowing me to sit out the majority of the season. Mainly because playing bad football is like having bad sex. With less crying in the shower afterwards. To put it simply, Football is an honest game. It’s true to life. It’s about sharing. It’s played with arms, legs and shoulders, but mostly from the neck up. Football is not motivated by a complicated, self- determining series of factors. It’s motivated by expression, glory, defeat and pride. Most importantly, my Granddad didn’t die in the War so I could receive deranged instructions on how to play football from an Australian!