Category Archives: Politics and Football

Inauguration Day

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Well, if it’s good enough for the ‘Man Fart’ in Washington D.C., then it’s good enough for the War-lord in Cardiff!

As the massed ranks take their place to witness the pageantry, all await the Gettysburg, no, Cardiff City Stadium address…

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“We’re going to make the Bluebirds great, again!”

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“We’re going to build a wall to keep the others out!”

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“And we’re going to make the Albion pay for it!”

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Until we speak again, don’t blink with the boredom of the first 91 minutes, the outrageous promises of the previous campaign may have been missing, but you don’t want to miss the big moment!

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Post truth

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Politics has probably always been the art of conning the masses into believing something that rarely stands up to the facts. Come the time for an election (or referendum for that matter) the claims to shoot for the moon abound… anyone in the UK might remember a certain red bus with £350 million on the side? Anyone in the USA might remember how the Mexicans were going to pay for a wall to keep them out?

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We have plumbed new depths for claiming that our values and feelings are actually facts. Why, just the other day while the Bluebirds were shooting for the moon (well, they hardly have sight on goal) it became apparent that the moon was presenting an elusive target… is this evidence that it was actually shifting back and for across the sky?

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But nothing resembles the new ‘post truth‘ better than the home fans chant of:

“And it’s Cardiff City,

Cardiff City FC,

By far the greatest team in football,

the world has ever seen.”

If you are part of the tribe, and you listen to it long enough, you might just begin to believe. Though the second half siege that Aston Villa laid on the Cardiff defence would surely cast doubts in even the most deluded of minds. Juno certainly had a sceptical look whenever this chant was presented as an interruption to feline ablutions. “Lick this Luciano!” was the most likely refrain…

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Until we speak again, the final score was Cardiff City 1 Aston Villa 0. Perhaps that ‘post truth‘ chant had a scintilla of foundation to it. But then, maybe Brexit & Trump will be good for us all as well!? Next time: pigs will fly over the Cardiff City Stadium!

 

Deception of numbers

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The Momentum of the Corbynistas defies belief. You just can’t beat an activist when it comes to the world of delusion. Let’s take it as a given that within the Labour tribe there is nothing even slightly resembling a credible alternative narrative at this point in time.

The issue is the numbers game… the same activists point to their numbers as the movement that will sweep their ideology into government in just over 3 years time; that they are somehow representative of a potential majority of the electorate. Any challenge that their membership represents anything less than the bright light advancing from a horizon to illuminate our dark lives will be met with instant derision.

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Talking of the delusion of numbers… there is nothing like a modern day struggling Championship football club for slavishly trying to attract the paying advertisers with promises of attendances that simply defy belief. Why, just this weekend the claim is that 14,754 people attended a match where the number of goals actually threatened to outnumber the spectators. Count the thousands for yourself…

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For the record the final score on this week before Christmas was Cardiff City 3 Barnsley 4.

Until we speak again, Juno always knew it would be slightly quicker to count the number of people at the local match than it would be to count the number of leaves outside her window. On occasions her world view could be marginally more exciting, and certainly more interesting than listening to a politically driven ideological diatribe based in the fantasies of a deluded minority.

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Overcoming life’s inequalities

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Have you heard the one about David and Goliath? If you haven’t, just ask Zac Goldsmith. Anyone remember Zac? He’s the rich boy, former Tory politician who came up against the son of a Muslim bus driver, or so we were constantly told.

Well, so-called smart guy Zac didn’t exactly display many smarts in his campaign to become Mayor of London; deciding to follow some ill-conceived advice about pitching a mendacious focus on racism that completely back-fired. Mr Khan played the clever game, and is now the much liked Mayor of London. Go for it, Sadiq!

Well, dear silver spooned Mr G. then decides to play the ‘resignation on principle’ card. Playing to the favours of his super-rich constituents in a very leafy part of south-west London in order to be returned to parliament as an independent (aka a Tory in an ill-fitting disguise) . On this occasion the Tory wealth machine complacently came up against a Lib-Dem (who are they again?) woman, Sarah Olney (about as high profile as her political party these days). Sarah and the L-D’s play a canny game, and guess what? Yes, she is returned as the surprise new MP for Richmond Park.

half-cat-half-doorJuno wasn’t exactly backward in coming forward with the canny game. Here she plays the half-cat-half-door routine to lull unsuspecting goliath’s into her trap…

So, what has this got to do with anything, you ask? Well, just last night we had the appetising spectacle of a bluebird coming up against a wolf.

No contest, you shout! Well, just ask Zac Goldsmith about no contests. Certainly before the game started there was a moment (see the two opposing players nearest the camera) where the essentially dog routine of sniffing arses looked about to break out in a public place…

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city-v-wolves-2Two minutes into the match, and a thunderous strike from the wolf leaves the bluebird reeling… the obvious outcome of such inequality is only a matter of time. But, canny games are afoot, as the home team contrive to imitate a bunch of turkeys in search of a christmas oven. When David Coleman described football as a game of two halves, he was clearly clairvoyant with a futuristic view of this match. Two second half strikes from the Bluebirds and they put the canny in the can.

Until we speak again, for the record the final score on the hazy scoreboard represents Cardiff City (Bluebirds) 2 Wolverhampton Wanderers (Wolves) 1.

Struggles of the Liberal Elite

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First came Brexit then came Trump… the certainties of years of liberal ways of thinking and being were suddenly and unceremoniously being thrown out.

The power of numbers can be an amazing thing… for the minority who blatantly command the proceeds of wealth, to the detriment of the majority who are left to pick up the tab, there will eventually be one outcome…

down-the-panSpare a thought (but little else) for the greedy who now find themselves in times of turmoil and upheaval. A mere flicker of hope from the recesses of a Richmond Park by-election may well ignite flimsy thoughts of a return to the promised land, but a lack of leadership does not bode well.

And so it came to pass, on a cold afternoon in the Cardiff City Stadium. The liberal elite of London-by-Sea (aka Brighton & Hove Albion) high-rolled into town, with thoughts of rising to the number one spot in the Championship table, and a step closer to the promised riches of the Premier League. But this is the home of the Bluebirds, a solemn breed who have all-too-briefly tasted a seat at the top table, and harbour strange thoughts of returning. Strange indeed, as there seems to be a new take on the concept of enlightened leadership…

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For the record, the travelling Liberal Elite of Brighton were reduced to 10 men shortly before the conclusion of a 0-0 bore-fest. An afternoon that brought an outcome not too dissimilar to that of recent referendum and election experiences, for those with aspirations that ignore the reality for the majority.

Until we speak again, Broadsheet Bella seems to be looking in vain for a way out of the present darkening days (and Cardiff City FC struggle to find a way out of the grip of the relegation zone).

The politics of slaughter

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A clear summer’s evening in Cardiff earlier this year provided the backdrop to centenary commemorations of the start of the Battle of the Somme…

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So, it was fitting that another field, that of the Cardiff City Stadium, fell silent for a minute in memory of the ending of the colossal loss of life…

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Thus began another epitome of futile gestures! As generals stand on the sidelines, barking orders for younger men to throw themselves forward in attack. All who bore witness had nothing less in mind than slaughter of the opposition.

With all guns blazing, there was little to separate the two sides as the time arrived for the site of battle to fall silent…

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As the respective generals present their politician-styled banalities dressed up as post-match punditry, the locals claim the bragging rights from a Cardiff City 3 Huddersfield Town 2 victory.

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Until we speak again, it might be useful to take a leaf out of Bella’s studied approach to political reportage.

Lib Dems of football

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A brief taste of the power that comes with a place at the top table; a collapse of confidence throughout the natural support base; recent glimmers of hope of a revival, or maybe even a new dawn; only for the gloom to descend as familiar failings re-emerge…

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Am I talking about the recent travails of the Liberal Democrat Party, as they pick themselves up from an electoral pasting in 2015 with flickers of hope in a recent by-election? Or am I talking about a Cardiff City FC team having fallen from a brief sojourn in the Premier League, to recently occupying the bottom position of the Championship, only for a new messiah to raise that thing called ‘hope’ with a couple of wins and a draw?

right-hookCardiff City 0 Wigan Athletic 1 is the kind of unwanted result that brings a sharpened perspective to those who wallow in a land called hope. Juno offers a right hook as a wake-up call; and Rich Hall recently reminded us that “hope lies somewhere between wishful thinking and performing a rain dance.”

Until we speak again I guess I had better get dancing!

Kitten heels

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sleeping-catIt was a Wednesday, so it must be PMQ’s, which usually means Prime Minister’s Questions in good old UK parliamentary speak. With Theresa May installed as our Prime Minister the commentators have a habit of trivialising events, just as I am doing right now,  by referring to her passion for shoes, and an infamous pair of kitten heels she occasionally wears. This weekly event is billed as a gladiatorial battle where the PM takes on the bitter foe in a verbal joust about the issues of the day; and it usually ends up as some kind of a draw.

Strange that! Because this Wednesday saw the turn of a Wednesday to grace the local hallowed turf. We would see what steel our Sheffield born new manager was made of, as we take on his least favoured home city team, Sheffield Wednesday. This was billed as a gladiatorial battle with the home team taking on the challenge of bitter foe in a physical joust, and you guessed it, it ended up in a draw! Cardiff City 1 Sheffield Wednesday 1.

Until we speak again the unanimous verdict has been declared on the effectiveness of bitter jousts in general, and the the current mightiness of the local Bluebirds specifically…

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Cats for a new dawn

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thinking-catBella was often to be found in deep  contemplation. Could it have been a fretfulness for so-called hard Brexit’s yet to be? Maybe it was a fear of any game that involved a Trump card! Or, was she simply playing over in her mind a favourite feline chase, involving the exposing of claws to greedy bankers scurrying about the floor before her.

Whatever the source, it always seemed like she was in a mood for change. As a deaf bag of tumours, she had the full on experience of being one of life’s strugglers, for whom the promised bounty had found its way into the pockets of others… the chosen few.

A very same mass desire for change has equally gripped the deluded followers of a certain local football team. When you find yourselves bouncing along the bottom of your league, you quickly resort to emotional affectation underpinned by a complete lack of evidence or sound judgement. Collectively, you become a herd of cats in search of a new dawn. The banners are dusted off, and the gladiators take to the field before an inflated audience, many drawn to a one-off experience of the bogof (buy one get one free) variety.

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Until we speak again, a new manager and new players arrive, and the tale of unexpected cauldrons produces a Cardiff City 2 Bristol City 1 scoreline, enough to bring tears of joy to the emotionally impoverished Bluebirds witnessing the first goals scored at home by someone in blue this season. Just don’t start believing in a new dawn just yet, with Brexiteers’ and Corbynistas’ already laying claim to the realisation of the activists dream, some things come in three’s… so the 8th November in a certain gun-toting nation could yet make The Exorcist look like Mary Poppins! As for Warnock’s wonders…?

 

CL-UMP

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A coming together of protagonists for a staged event lasting 90 minutes, whereby the two opposing forces seem loved by the few and disliked by the many. Blows are traded, almost like handbags at five paces, until one or other side lands a decisive strike (or two). But ‘decisive’ is meaningless, as the competition on show is but a small part of the overall contest, to be decided at a date already determined for the conclusion of the campaign.

Immigration is not an issue for the two sides that have nothing but open arms (though limited economies) for the influx of outside talent; and there certainly were no walls being built by the home defence! I don’t know how many Hilary’s or Donald’s were on show, but there was a grim consistency in the message for the home believers, as Derby County just edged the bottom of the table duel at Cardiff City 0-2.

A poignant message could be viewed on the big screen… a lament for the cancellation of the home team’s Goal of the Month Competition; owing to the fact that the home team didn’t score any goals at their home venue throughout the month of September!

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Until we speak again Juno would have had no gender bias I’m sure, but her wishes for Hilary would be ‘deliver a knock out blow’!