In Which I Talk To Two Polish Men And A Book Is Finished

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Well my job, not fatcat wages, not glamorous and I'm not going to reveal it today. But it's a job. A job that I believe I've shown that I'm willing to do almost anything I can to help out. After all the way I believe things are going at the moment for Britain there will be areas of the "United Kingdom" (not so United anymore) that will become employment blackspots because of BREXIT.

(And as a quick aside it's irritating that those who wanted to leave call themselves "Brexiteers", believing themselves to be as swashbuckling as The Three Musketeers. Written as we all know by a French author.)

But anyway had to do the early shift at work this weekend which is the reason why I haven't been posting for a while. As going to bed and waking up early does leave a short term jet laggy effect on you when you return home. You find there is a moment after you've had your late lunch where you just nod off in front of the TV. There was no intention to. You just didn't have control.

So on Saturday at work I noticed two men, who seemed to be brothers, speaking in an East European accent. I thought I'd recognised the language and asked whether they were Polish.

They looked concerned. "Why are you asking?" questioned the older one.

"Well I just thought you were unlucky on Thursday".

Thursday : Poland lose out to Portugal on penalties after extra time and are knocked out of Euro 2016. Let me say now if there is one team I don't want to win the tournament it's Portugal. They just haven't done anything that makes them worthy champions.

Their faces brighten. Suddenly I realise that when asking whether they were Polish they'd expected xenophobic abuse. Instead I'm talking football.

This is what our society has started to become post Brexit.  

Let me stress again that I'm not saying that the bulk of people who voted leave are racists. But what it has done is to unleash a racism on Britain to an extent that I cannot recall ever happening before. So that an innocent question about a person's nationality invokes what could only be best described as fear.

But not for long.

"Yes Yes" the older man said. "And now I want Wales to win".

Friday: Wales beat Belgium 3-1. It was a match I saw the first half live and a recording of the second half early (4:30am!) Saturday morning. An astonishing match. That Wales won did not surprise me. That they beat the second ranked team in the world 3-1 did.

And of the three teams I wanted to do well it's Wales who are in the semi finals. Truly,truly astonishing. Well deserved mind you.

"I have lived in Wales for twelve years. Poland first Wales second".

He was talking about football. Couldn't argue with that. I feel the same way. You may live in a different country and be respectful of it and indeed in my case wish it to be independent but the football team you support is not the same as changing supermarket.

Both men extended their hands to me which I shook. "Your team did very well. I hope they beat Portugal now".

I didn't have the heart to tell him that I was born in England (aka Football laughing stock).

Then they left. You know it's made me want to learn Polish even more now.

I've finished the biography of Thierry Henry by Phillippe Auclair. Personally my view of it reminded me about my view of Paris in that it was a slight disappointment. Not I stress that the French capital is a bad place. Far from it. But I'd been seduced by its image on books,films and TV. In reality although there were some obviously stunning sights and monuments it was also more like London than I'd expected (I will make the caveat that obviously I didn't see all of Paris - mainly the "touristy" bits).

The point is that for me this book, written by a French Arsenal supporting football journalist living in Britain, promised more than I felt it delivered.

It's not bad and does have high points (such as Henry's famous handball incident against the Republic of Ireland and the parts about his early career). Like the Paris I saw though it's high landmarks do not hide that for the most part it's not all that different to other similar books.

I'll go to Porthcawl library tomorrow to find out what my next football book will be.

Until the next time.

In Which Amongst The Gloom There's Always Football And Why Breaking In a New Shirt Reminds Me To Make a Belated Apology To Denmark

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

So I wake up at 6:09am in the morning and as I turn the TV on I discover the beginnings of a Labour party coup where senior figures start to turn on their leader and resign from their opposition posts. An incompetently handled Labour coup from people who rather start a civil war than try to deal with the disunited kingdom that the referendum has produced. And you wonder why as an Englishman decided to join Plaid Cymru.

But anyway. There's always the football. Let's forget about the Euro referendum and watch Euro 2016 instead......oh.

A quick note about England's match tomorrow against Iceland. The most ironic thing about that game is that even if the English fans acted like choirboys Europe will still want them beaten by Iceland even though it's not in the EU. Football can throw things like that up sometimes.

Anyway there were three matches to watch and was looking forward to doing this marathon having missed yesterday's games and knowing I'd miss tomorrow's ones because of work.

First turned out to be Republic of  Ireland vs France. A match that apparently the Observer Book of cliches was acting as co-commentator on ITV. The commentary had even more bizarre moments. After he took a free kick we were informed that Pogba "has powerful thighs". For a moment there I thought I was watching a different sort of channel. The sort which broadcasts after midnight and needs a pin number to watch it......or so I'm told.

It went surreal. Discussing the Irish (and West Ham reserve) goalkeeper the commentary said "Darren Randolph's left hand upright"......whatever that means.

The Republic scored first, with a penalty from a foul that was so obvious no French player argued with the referee.

Unfortunately for the Irish in the second  half France reacted with two quick goals and a sending off . A French victory then. And you know what? I wanted France to win. Because we all know that had they lost the Daily Mail and definitely The Sun would have used the headline FREXIT.

So to the next game Germany Slovakia. This was the only game where I had a football shirt in my collection to wear for the first time. It was this.

Germany

As you know by now I'm not the sort of collector that gets something and hides it away forever more. If I collected toy trains they wouldn't be kept in a box. They'd be used as nature and Mr Hornby intended. So as I had a shirt for Germany wear it I did. Of course this was the reason why they beat Slovakia 3-0 in a match that seemed more of a training session than a competitive game. They don't have to thank me.

The final match was Belgium Hungary. Belgium won 4-0 but they only really were dominant in the latter stages of the second half. They now face Wales as favourites. Which I think for Wales is a good thing as the hopes of a nation but not the pressure of expectation will be on them.

One more thing. Hungary had a player called Pinter. Who I assumed played cultured football and was the caretaker of their defence. Hope there wasn't a drama when he got substituted.

Wearing the shirt of a team in my collection has never seemed to effect the performance of the team in question. With one exception. That of Denmark.

I had bought this shirt in I think 2008 for £10. Promptly it was put onto a hanger and then to the wardrobe never to see the light of day again.......until 2010.

I rather like this shirt. It's simple,unfussy and has the colours of the Danish flag on it. You don't get the feeling that it has been given to a designer who was on drugs the night before.

Denmark

Anyway as I said we fast forward to 2010. It's the World Cup in South Africa. The last matches are being held in group stage of the tournament. Denmark are facing Japan. For the first time since it was bought it there's a logical opportunity for wearing the shirt and that's what was done.

Well, not wishing to appear pompous and patronising let me say that I have of course seen Asian teams beat European sides before and after this particular game. But it was the first match that I'd ever seen where the Asian side dominated almost from start to finish. Japan won by three goals to one, The Danish goal being a a late penalty scored I think by John Arne Thomasson.

So clearly the reason for this defeat was that I, whose closeness to Denmark recently was when we visited Legoland in Windsor a few years back wore the shirt. Somehow I'd cursed them. So the shirt wasn't worn again.....until last year.

Denmark were playing Portugal in a qualifying game for Euro 2016. As I recall both sides needed a win to be assured of coming to France. It was a dull game it has to be said. Portugal did not dominate the Danes in the way that Japan had all those years earlier. Yet the curse came back to haunt me again. For although Denmark only lost by one goal to nil, that goal at no stage in the play was touched by Ronaldo. A Portuguese goal where Ronaldo's not involved? Surely not? But that is what happened and obviously I was responsible.

So people of Denmark I'm sorry. I'll try not to do it again. Honest.

Until the next time.

People Of Laleston: The Dirty,Smelly Ripped Jeaned Man Who Bought Two Books At Your Fete Was Me...Sorry

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

So I wake up early in the morning. My day is mapped out. Mow that jungle outside,go to the undercover tip that is Thygeston, watch three matches from Euro 2016. Few days are so easily planned.

The first thing to do though  is to get an internet stream ready so that the wife can watch the second rugby test between New Zealand and Wales. At the same time she wanted the television left on so she'd see the return of the British astronaut Tim Peake from that space station doing whatever it is astronauts do to justify not giving it to the poor in the world.

My wife: Woman,Welsh, Multitasker.

So whilst she does this I, being a man concentrate on just one task being the grass. Interrupted just the once when my daughter comes out shouting "It's amazin".

I look confused.

"Tim Peake's landed".

All that gets from me is a shrug. Partly for the reason sarcastically given above, but also because I don't understand all the media attention for the second Briton in space. Not as if he's gone to Mars. Anyway Brexit or no Brexit it's going to be a long time before another UK citizen gets up there again so am not interested.

Otherwise the mowing is done. It takes a while but it's done. Less obstacles now except that my wife decided to put the washing out hence I had to avoid sheets, towels and assorted garments hitting my face. Being mugged by lemony freshness. Still it's done.

Black bags full of garden was placed into the mighty Kia and off I went to Thygeston. 12:30. Key time was 2pm as that's when the first match, Belgium v Republic of Ireland started.

Now on the short journey to the tip I have to pass the village of Laleston. A pleasant affluent place though not immune from austerity. It's pub being boarded up for years now. It's most prominent landmark is the local church...which today had a fete. I've been there before and knew there would be a book stall. So the decision was made. Do the tip and when finished make a quick trip to the church.

It was one o'clock. One hour to football.

So remember I'd just finished mowing the grass and had been to the tip.I was at that moment at my most desirable. My hair felt it had a few South Walian insects in it. Was dirty and smelling of dead garden. Wearing a yellow faded Pittsburgh Steeler T shirt decorated with the evergreen grass of Bridgend. Garden jeans. in the fashionably ripped style borne of the unfashionableness of age. Sure I exuded the pinnacle of male sexuality. I would have to repel any advances. I'm married and anyway there were three football matches to watch.

This was the sight the middle aged woman behind the bookstall beheld as I approached the book stall. She would just have to control herself.

"How much are the books?" I asked.

"Three paperbacks for a £1 or two hardbacks for a pound" came the response.

Looking at what was available knew I was going to be difficult, Because there were only two books I wanted to buy.Of course one of them was a hardback and the other was a paperback. Enquring of the price brought about a discussion between the middle aged woman and her friend and her friend. What the word is for a group of such ladies I don't know.

Eventually a price of 80p was agreed upon. Fine.  A pound was produced.

"Sorry" she said in an apologetic tone that only women in a church environment can muster "we don't have any change."

Yeah right.

But I didn't have the time or the inclination to argue so gave the pound and walked away.

The two books I bought were as follows:

J B Priestley - Time and the Conways and Other Plays

This is in the light green spined Penguin Twentieth Century Classics series. One of the plays is An Inspector Calls/ I remember once many years ago in East London being alone at home on a Friday afternoon being taken by radio adaptation of it. And when I mean taken I mean stopping whatever I was doing in the kitchen and just sitting down to listen to it. That's the power it had.

The other book, an absolute brick of a hardback was:

Well it speaks for itself

The only reason why I bought this book was only the day before I'd watched an interview he gave at the Hay festival promoting the third volume. This of course is the first.

So these two books for a pound. Bargain. Or as they say in Cardiff Barrgain, I mentioned this detour and purchases to the wife on my return. Let's say she was unimpressed.

Half past one: A quick wash of body and hair, so that any insects were evicted then football took over the rest of the day.

Belgium beat Republic of Ireland 3-0. With Lukaku scoring two. Causing me to think that there are two Lukaku's playing alternate games. One rubbish and the other world class. Which all means I don't fancy their chances against Sweden.

Iceland drew with Hungary 1-1. Good , They both have been the successful underdogs so far. Fingers crossed.

Finally the red swarm of Portugal drew with Austria 0-0. Portugal did everything but score. That included Ronaldo hitting the post from a penalty, My theory is simple. Portugal have been cursed by an old gypsy woman.

Austria were a dull team. A good thing. After all history has taught us we should always be wary of lively Austrians.

So again to the Lalestonians wherever you are now apologies for my appearence

Until the next time,

In Which Euro 2016 Starts (Well For Me Anyway) But I've Got To Do A To Do List First

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Well Euro 2016 is finally upon us and what an exciting first day with three matches to kick us off including one involving the three international teams I follow, Italy.

Oh OK then it started on Friday. Wales won. England drew with Russia on the pitch and apparently also are neck and neck in who is liable to kicked out first thanks to the actions of the apes from either team in Marseilles. Because of work I won't be able to see the England/Wales game on Thursday. Question is whether there will be an England team for their final game against Slovakia. Today you had the situation of the England manager and captain practically begging the fans to behave. That was depressing to watch. What's even more depressing though is that I have my doubts that the apes will listen.

And I'll tell you this as well. Here in Wales I'm beginning to notice this in a very minor non threatening form. Speaking as an Englishman,albeit a card carrying member of Plaid Cymru, I've seen some, and note the word some (to be precise about five) people walk around in England football shirts and drive cars with the flag of the cross of St George on the back window or attached to a car aerial. I'm thinking to myself  why antagonise people? If this was France I'd get it but you're in Wales. There is a sort of arrogance about doing it at this particular time at this particular moment. I mean would these people do that in Scotland or the Republic of Ireland? Of course they wouldn't.

Let me be clear who I follow in order with regard to international football. England the country of my birth, Italy the country where my ancestry comes from and Wales, the country I live in now and feel should be an independent nation.

Anyway. Monday was off work and it meant that I was able to watch matches in the tournament for the first time. I mentioned to my wife that I was going to do the vacuuming as I was the one not at work that day didn't really have any excuse not to (plus of course avoiding any grief later). This however had to be added to going to the rubbish tip, the library, doing some shopping as well as of course WATCHING FOOTBALL.

So went to the rubbish tip called Thygeston. It is the most well hidden place to throw your trash away I know covered as it is by green fields and trees. It's so discreet that you'd whether ex KGB members helped in its design.

On the way to the tip.....really

Next stop was Porthcawl firstly to the library where I paid my debt to society for an overdue book (15p) and then picked the next football book to read which was.....

Philippe Auclair - Thierry Henry - Lonely At The Top

Yes I know he's a legendary Arsenal player (boo hiss) but he was capable of taking your breath away and have some fans of opposing teams applauding him. I've also read some articles by the author on the e magazine The Blizzard. If the back cover of this book is correct, what I'm going to read is a biography by an author who admires but does not worship his subject. Let's not forget that thanks to his "Hand of Gaul" incident in 2009 he was as popular in the Republic of Ireland as people with the occupations of banker and British politician.

After that shopping which is unimportant apart from the fact I bought a packet of football stickers. Since chatting about the subject last I've bought 4 packets. The totals now (remember it's 33 stickers per team) are as follows.

Turkey: 17
France: 14
Wales: 13
Switzerland:12
Albania: 11
Poland: 11
Russia: 11
Spain: 11
Czech Republic: 10
Ukraine: 10
Austria: 9
Northern Ireland : 9
Republic of Ireland : 9
Belgium: 8
Italy: 8
Sweden: 8
England: 7
Germany: 7
Hungary: 7
Iceland: 7
Portugal: 7
Slovakia: 7
Romania: 6
Croatia: 5

And of course more doubles. Didn't have time to work out what to do with them......I'd football to watch.

Anyway after lunch came the vacuuming. Well there would've been the vacuuming had not the actual cleaner only a few minutes after I started decided to just turn Franciscan monk on me and suddenly turn silent and go off. My first instinct was to check and see if it affected the electricity in other parts of the house but no, it was just rage in that machine.

So the football gods seemed to be smiling on me. Though felt I should show willing and picked up with a dustpan and brush any obvious dust etc from the floor. Did my best under the circumstances but had an excuse, I think that's what they call a win-win.

At last I was ready for the football. First match was the Czech Republic vs Spain. Purely on the grounds that I'd a football shirt for one of the teams I was going to follow....

Viva Espana

Incidentally I've seen the video of the Spanish world cup song. The Spanish captain Sergio Ramos can sing. Here people would give Wayne Rooney a round of applause if he could hold a note.

Spain dominated the game from start to finish. But it had looked as if they had followed the football manual to the letter apart from forgetting the final chapter relating to how to score. Then with a few minutes to spare they did exactly that.

Almost immediately afterwards the match was stopped.........as I paused the TV to pick up my daughter from the school bus. Reading some thirties poetry whilst I was waiting for her...as you do.

Returned. Resumed. Spain won. They can thank me for wearing the shirt later.

Republic of Ireland vs Sweden next. The first half was barring a few Irish chances generally dull which I thought was a good thing as the Republic were the equal of their opponents. In the second half the men in green were ahead, Ciaran Clark scoring a goal best described as Zlatanesque. Unfortunately for them the Swedish equalised through an own goal. That's how it stayed. For a neutral it was a good match to watch on the whole,

So finally Belgium Italy. Not neutral here. To the extent that it was spaghetti for dinner. Microwave spaghetti admittedly (too busy watching football..hope you noticed) but it's the thought that counts. Daughter at guides Wife chatting over coffee with the neighbour. I was all alone. One, two, three "Italia Italia".

Italy were not favourites here. Belgium are apparently the second best nation in the world at the moment. Still you had the feeling they were going to do well. Won the battle of the national anthems and they could deal with Mark Clattenburg as referee being used to Prima Donnas.

Early on they scored with a strike from Giaccherini. Belgium for the most part bar a spell in the second half did not look as if they were capable of making an effective response. It appears that without Vincent Kompany they are a bunch of sole traders. As for Fellani's new blond hairstyle, my theory is that it was designed so that their opponents are so convulsed with laughter they're unable to play properly.

Pelle scored a second just before the final whistle. Italy won. And you know what was the best thing about that victory.It was typically Italian.

Two matches today (Tuesday). Wife and daughter are out for the evening. Things just get better and better.

Until the next time.