Inauguration Day

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…

city-v-burton-1

“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

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?

night-cannon-moon

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?

moon-shooting

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…

lick-your-own

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!

 

CL-UMP

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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right-hook

 

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’!

Rotten Boroughs

There was a time in the political history of Britain when cats with an interest in local matters  had little or no say in the election of those who would represent them… merely trapped in personal fiefdoms, you might say. They became known as Rotten Boroughs.

There seems to be more than a passing resemblance in today’s sporting contest with the concept of Rotten Boroughs. Just take a look at the extent of influence that their non-footballing owners have over the football appointments in their own personal fiefdoms!

This is also a clash that takes on a strong sense of being manufactured by media representations; where a ‘rotten‘ core of a rivalry has been projected onto a fixture that only very rarely used to involve ‘significant’ matches. It did however involve teams with a perceived rotten core of supporters, so this might well be portrayed as a derby for the rotten boroughs, at least in some twilight world of imagination. Today’s faux politeness requires that teams present friendly greetings before they play at falling over and getting the opposition players booked or sent off!

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But, this occasion is also spiced by the need for both teams to drag themselves out of perilous league positions in the early weeks of this season. After a mere handful of matches there is already an important question emerging on local lips…

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With a new manager, Paul Trollope, at the start of the season, I chose to name my fantasy football team ‘Pure Trollope’ for this year. As I have said before, this was meant to be ironic commentary, not a documentary! Though we can begin to identify the trollope way of playing emerging as a pattern… create chances, score nothing, then present a relatively poor opposing team a few chances to help themselves to a win. Sounds like the machinations of a rotten borough to me, as one of the dwindling numbers paying for the pain of watching a deja vu experience at each home game.

There again, it could just be that we are the activists who have little need for the power of influence that comes with winning matches and challenging for the big time. Why aspire to such heights, when we can enjoy a permanent state of moaning and disagreement with the way of things?

sleeping-cat

If Bella was still listening to the current regular diatribe, she might well be asking if this was really about Cardiff City FC, as it sounds remarkably like the current commentary on an increasingly irrelevant Labour Party… a political party assuming a similar projection to the local team… sleepwalking to oblivion. [For those of you with little or no interest in the outcome the final score was Cardiff City 0 Leeds United 2; and Cardiff finally hit rock bottom of the league!].

Taking your seat

Take a picture of this… it’s a cold Tuesday afternoon in January, and the House of Commons are about to hold a Department of Transport debate on the effectiveness of ‘cats eyes’.

Cats eyesTake a guess as to how many seats are occupied for such a brain numbing encounter? You don’t need to guess any longer, as the latest edition of ‘Pure Trollope’ (Paul Trollope being the new Cardiff City FC Manager) provides the answer for us!

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For the record, the final score was Cardiff City 0 Reading 1, and the home fans left en masse (if such a movement was numerically possible) as the fluorescent ones scored on 89 minutes.

Until we speak again, may your team on the pitch not outnumber the fans in the stands!

Brexit explained

Be very wary of those welcoming messages, they might just be hiding something more sinister for unsuspecting visitors…

Welcome to Cardiff City Stadium

“It’s those immigrants, coming here and taking our overpaid prima donna roles.” [With only five Welsh players in the whole squad, three of whom you never hear about!]

“How is our local economy going to survive?” [Our home grown talent has to make do with only a few grand a week!]

“It’s those foreigners, coming here and taking all off our points!” [Cardiff City 0 Queens Park Rangers 2.]

“What is happening to our sovereign status as an independent sporting power?” [Oh yes, we are in hock to a Malaysian owner!]

Until we speak again, keep the welcome in a language designed to keep all of those interlopers baffled…

Welcome in Welsh

 

Rugby: The Man’s Game

Juno and Bella were never aficionados of the Welsh national obsession for Rugby Union. But they both proclaimed to be partial to a bit of rabbit. So Judgement Day 30-4-2016 in the home of Welsh Rugby may just have caused them more than a hint of confusion. Whilst Wales is obsessed with a man’s game, a little bit of the English male obsession for dressing up as women may be creeping in to the local rugby psyche!

What is this woman trying to take a nibble of?

Bunny [1]

On the other hand (forgiving the pun)…

Bunny [2]

Until we speak again, feel free to rethink your views about the finer details of the national sport!

 

[Football explained, or not] K is for…

KARMA SUTRA… well, what do you expect when the birds (Cardiff City FC) and the bees (Brentford) get together? After all, there are at least 26 positions across the pitch (if you’re counting the referee and other officials); all laid out in front of a voyeuristic crowd!

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But K is also for KINAESTHESIA… as the kick-ass locals are fully in tune with muscle tone, position and movement, resulting in the quite common recent experience of going in to half-time with a 2-0 lead.

City v Brentford [3]

However, K is also for KNIFE-EDGE… as once again the full 90 minutes turn on a Desmond (Tutu, that is… as in 2-2), as knackered knaves kibosh the chance of any kudos.

City v Brentford [4]Then, suddenly K comes to stand for KAFKAESQUE… as the kerfuffle of a final kamikaze raid by the home team produces a winning goal in the last minute of added on time. Kaleidoscopic splinters coalesce, as kindred spirits no longer stare down the khazi. Karma is returned, no sutra required; as unrealistic expectations are kneaded back to kite-flying proportions.

With all one's strength

Chilling in the sunUntil we speak again this Bella will be anticipating Kalamity with a capital K; and where can a cat find a proper kebab when you need one? For the record it was Cardiff City 3 Brentford 2, with the locals having played 21, won 8, drawn 9, and lost 4, which puts them currently 7th in the league.

[Football explained, or not!] J is for…

JIHAD… as the crowd are jingoistically implored to create mass jocularity as they ‘Do the Ayatollah‘…

Do the Ayatollah

But J is also for JUDGEMENTAL… as jubilation justifiably means jack when the crowd are off somewhere else on another junket…

No crowdJUGULAR becomes the jest at a critical juncture as the joust becomes a jibe with a converted penalty early in the game…

PenaltyBut jettison the japes as the second half nerves jangle when jaded jackasses deliver nothing more than a jaundiced form of JUSTICE

Another drawArmadilloUntil we speak again I will continue to be Bella… and for the record it was Cardiff City 2 Sheffield Wednesday 2, with the locals having played 20, won 7, drawn 9, and lost 4, which puts them currently 7th in the league.

[Football explained, or not!] I is for…

WASN’T THERE… as in what half the population call illness, and the other gender call man flu. It’s blowing a gale with horizontal rain and you’ve been under the duvet for most of the last 24 hours; so the big question, among considerations of Paris bombings and Syrian aerial bombardment, or how to manage a European refugee crisis, is do I go to the match or not?

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Having made an executive decision of major proportions, the sub-duvet bunker provides the perfect location for radio airwave surveillance. It takes a little over the allotted 90 minutes to realise ‘I’ also stands for INSULT to INJURY… as in what is added to the aforementioned illness as my team manage to blow a 2-0 lead by conceding an own goal in time added on. Just as the glorious summit was in sight the mist descended! The duvet decision is vindicated.

Searching for clarity

But in a creative (aka delirious) moment I ponder how ‘I’ could possibly stand for DON’T BELIEVE IT, in the event that the Cupertino, California fruit-influenced image makers seize on the so-called ‘beautiful game’. Imagine… iScore on the iPitch during the iMatch. I’m out of here! If you’re looking for real branding look no further than ICONIC Cardiff

Cardiff branding [2]ArmadilloUntil we speak again I will continue to be Bella… and for the record it was Cardiff City 2 Burnley 2, with the locals having played 18, won 6, drawn 8, and lost 4, which puts them currently 10th in the league.