There are many things that make us stand in awe of our peers and their historic equivalents. Whether it be designing huge steam engines, building enormous structures, long bridges, making metal birds that fly or igniting huge amounts of fuel so that tin cans that can reach the moon we are generally impressed, and rightly so.
By the recent laws of ball related hyperbole then Lionel Messi, Christiano Ronaldo and Isambard Kingdom Brunel should all be mentioned in the same breath. The spiraling absurdity of footballing influence on the exaggeration of exaggeration continues.
So at what line then is genius drawn?
I once saw a bloke pick up the football in the right back position, dribble the ball to central midfield, execute a double section three way triangle passing before breaking out left with the ball, cutting in on the right to lob the ball to the opponents right (back) post which was then headed across the goal, back out to the edge of the area and said player then half volleyed into the bottom left corner past the despairing keeper. Brilliant.
Still one of the best team goals I have ever seen and better than any Messi goal. Why? It was on a cold February night with the uneven ground half frozen, the other half mud, the crowd non-existent, the weather was awful and the other team were more physical than a night in with Lee Chapman and Stan Collymore. Genius? Unlikely. I am unconvinced of its measure in the betterment of society. It was good though.
The same applies to Messi, like it or not in a few years time there will be another genius born and we will all have moved onto the new ‘best thing’. Lionel Messi is a great footballer and it should rest there. Otherwise we may as well be asking pygmy like pop stars to talk politics and run the country eh Bono? Where are your lucky charms now?
In a recent match (Sheffield Wednesday v Leeds United) The Weasel Kickers witnessed the ultimate desperate attempts by a footballing commentator to invigorate the match as a young lad barely managing a jog down the line was heralded as having ‘lightning pace’. Coupled with repetition of the words “power”, “pace”, “goals” and “electric” the game (which was duller than a Noel Edmonds Christmas Show) entered into the farcical with Andy ‘Channels’ Townsend, Andy ‘Sugartits’ Gray or Garth ‘Cunt’ Crooks analogues regurgitating words designed to fuel the gilding of this porcine defecation.
This should lead into everyday life, for everyone, and for me every morning it begins with the pre-match interview and carries on from there with a few examples listed below:
- Did you see that? He opened his eyes and the crowd went wild. That will be the start of something special.
- He’s had a rough time with that duvet and he’s glad to leave it behind now and move on. It’s been affecting him both professionally and personally.
- He walked over that carpet like it didn’t exist and now he’s onto the next one.
- Teeth have never been quite so clean as they are today its a testament to the way these guys work at it, day in, day out. Sometimes for 3, maybe 4 minutes a time.
- The kettle was slid under the tap with aplomb and the agility and balance shown in the turn was phenomenal and then it just slid into the housing as if it were made for it.
- That dropped straight in, no messing, although there were a number of options open to him he managed to put that straight down the bowl without a splash.
What is your internal commentator saying to you today?
Smear yourself with your own hyperbole!