The Football Game Where The Wife Is More Emotional Than Me

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Well it's Wednesday evening in Wales and it's the evening of that game. Two ground shaking events happen in world football history. Firstly Wales are in the semi final of a major tournament and secondly my wife and I are in the living room watching a football match together.

She doesn't watch football normally. She rarely watches any sport except when the Welsh national rugby team plays. She will moan when the DVR is full of games from leagues from other nations.But this is of course different.

Every game Wales has played has been seen by her. Nothing has been missed because of work. The one other time we could have watched a game together was the last set of matches in the group stage where I opted to watch England Slovakia on the laptop whilst she watched her countrymen face Russia. Needless to say she had the better deal Wales winning 3-1 whilst the English could only manage a 0-0 draw (which in hindsight was a predictor of the disaster to come against Iceland).

Not that she's completely knowledgeable. She queried during the Russia game why it hadn't finished. I explained that eighty minutes was for Rugby.

It does not matter. She has been caught up in the fervour. She is Welsh and Wales are in the semi final.

So we are in the living room together. Through the TV preamble. Watching the screen shoehorned with retired Welsh football players in the panel with at least one of them (Ryan Giggs) you knew was only brought in because of his team's success. Then Lee Dixon/Roy Keane in a patronising manner pretended to be Welsh for the evening. But you knew their heart wasn't in it.

The obligatory interview with Gareth Bale, a piece on the tragedy of Gary Speed, more waffling from the ex pros...and then the game.

Before it started we were reminded again the Welsh had the best fans in Euro 2016 and the non rugby world learnt for the first time that mae hen wlad fy nhadau is the best anthem as well. You don't need to understand it, you don't have to speak Welsh but wherever you came from it stirs the soul.

So to the match. The first half was to be honest, relatively dull. They and their opponents, the undeserving but lucky Portugal seemed to be taking the cautious approach. The wife shouts at Ronaldo as he claims a penalty. She doesn't like him. Quite perceptive that way.

The half end without a goal. There was still hope.

But come the second half came two goals in quick succession for Portugal. The last of which scored by that man Ronaldo. A man so in love with himself that if you remember the Champions League final and the Athletico Madrid player who ran to kiss his blonde girlfriend after he scored, well I wouldn't have been surprised that had Ronaldo scored he would have run to the nearest mirror to perform the same act.

It was unfortunately the sort of game that you knew was not going to change afterwards.

"Looks like Wales missed Ramsey" (Aaron Ramsey - suspended from this game) said my wife....my wife ? It was though true.

And so it finished 2-0 to Wales. The wife went off to bed.I was going to make myself a cup of tea. As she went up the stairs I pointed out one thing to her that made a disappointed woman smile.

Wales came third in Euro 2016.

Wales came third!!

Until the next time.

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 I Chat About Icelandic Football (though not much on THAT result), A Book Is Read And Updates On Football Cards and Polish Food

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

I know this is chatting about this well and truly after the horse has bolted but I'd wanted to do the post about buying Polish food on Tuesday first because of the racist tensions the Brexit result has unleashed. I'm sure I'll be chatting about it again soon but for now football...and Iceland.

As mentioned before I was at work during the England/Iceland game so have only bothered to see the highlights but what really shocked me was not that Iceland won but how inept England were. Before the match I'd told someone at work that whilst I expected England to win it wouldn't have surprised me if they lost either. After all in pre qualifying Iceland came second in a group that included Turkey and the Netherlands and although England had the greatest humiliation they had also humiliated pre tournament dark horses Austria and embarrassed Portugal and Hungary in Euro 2016.

The point is the fact that Iceland played well should not have been a surprise because they have been playing like that for a long time now.

On Friday I'd watched a couple of club matches on the internet to take my mind off the Brexit gloom for a while. The one from the Irish Republic was a dull 0-0 affair (even though it was Shamrock Rovers/Cork City). The Icelandic game though also scoreless was a much livelier affair. I made a mental note to watch another game from this league when the opportunity presented itself. Remember it was before that.game and the chance came a day after that  game where I watched Fylkir FC play against those city slickers Viking Reykjavik

Let me say that I like Icelandic league football. It reminds me of the Welsh Leagues. Part time players, small grounds (no stands behind either goal here) but plenty of enthusiasm. No gloss more heart.

As the first half finished 0-0 the teams seemed about equal in ability to me so it was a shock to discover through google that in a 12 team league the home team were currently bottom with their opponents eighth. Given that they were bottom I was impressed with Fylkir so decided that they, the ones who played in a strip that could only be described as radioactive orange, were going to be the Icelandic team I would support.

So obviously when they win the league no one will describe me as a glory seeker.

In the second half contrary to everything you have been taught or read it was the Vikings who were being stormed  in their area time and time again until eventually Fylkir got the goal they truly deserved. That's how the game finished. My team won. The fightback starts here. You've read it here first... in English anyway.....I think.

I've finished the Marian Keyes novel The Other Side Of The Story. I won't bore you by repeating the superlatives I've been using to describe this. All I will say is that although it wasn't the best book I've read this year it came close.

Of course this means a new book from the Great Unread which is

Ali Smith - The Accidental

This was given out free with The Times Newspaper. Before you wonder whether I've further contributed to Rupert Murdoch's plan for world domination. It was bought in a charity shop for 50p.

The football stickers are progressing slowly. I've got now to a stage where I've more doubles in a packet than new stickers. Haven't yet had the opportunity to try and sort this out but will try to do soon. In the meantime here's the current standings. Remember there is a max of thirty three stickers per team.

Turkey: 18

Switzerland:16
France: 15
Russia: 15
Albania: 13
Spain: 13
Sweden: 13

Wales: 13

Czech Republic: 12
Northern Ireland : 12
Poland: 12
Republic of Ireland : 12
Ukraine: 12
Austria: 10
Hungary: 10
Iceland: 10
Slovakia: 10
Belgium: 9
England: 9
Germany: 9
Romania: 9
Italy: 8
Portugal: 8
Croatia: 6

Finally my wife looked a bit embarrassed when I walked in the house from work yesterday. It transpired that she tried the Jezyki biscuits I bought on Tuesday. She loves them. Seems like the Polish deli is going to be somewhere we'll regularly visit when in Bridgend Town from now on. I'm going to try them tomorrow afternoon (Friday) when I intend to spend an hour on the Get started in Polish book.

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,