The latest entry in my sporting diary, as the feud between Mourinho and Conte continues, and my Ashes misery is finally put to bed.
Where else can I start than the ongoing row between Jose Mourinho and Antonio Conte? I hesitate comparing it to two bald men fighting over a comb, especially with Conte's past, but it is amusing how the two managers battling for second place in the league are involved in a verbal spat, as the bald man looks down on them from his lofty perch.
Jose mentioned match fixing in one of his interviews, leading Conte to conclude that Mourinho was "a little man" and a "fake". Pass the popcorn, please. Yes, it is all a bit petty, and very unseemly when two grown men use the media to have a row that wouldn't be out of place on a school playground. But above all, it is very, very funny.
I enjoyed watching the Merseyside derby on Friday. The Mason Holgate shove on Roberto Firmino was naughty, but it did liven things up a bit. Great to see so many away fans at the match. And in this ever changing world of ours, it's encouraging that so many people commented on the fact that Virgil van Dijk has started to "repay some of his fee" by scoring the winner.
Philippe Coutinho finally got his dream move to Barcelona for a huge fee. Hopefully this will be reinvested wisely at Liverpool. Perhaps they can improve their scouting network, so that one day they buy a player who hasn't played for Southampton.
My son and I visited Leyton Orient on Saturday for Boreham Wood's National League match. The Wood were superb in the first half, and could have been four up at the break. It was obvious that Orient couldn't be as poor in the second half, though, and in the end we were happy with a point. And we didn't lose any fingers or toes in the freezing conditions.
One thing that struck me, though, was the four blocks of flats in the corners of the Brisbane Road stadium. I just couldn't get my head around the fact that you could go on to your balcony on a match day, and watch a football match. The residents must be used to all sorts of megabantz throughout the season, the resigned look on the face of the man receiving the "who's the w**ker in the flat" song proving this point to me. But I can think of worse places to live.
Thank goodness that the Ashes humiliation is now over. You know you need to take a long look at yourself when you're sat on your own at 11.45pm, drinking rum, watching old episodes of Minder, whilst staring at your phone and waiting for wicket alerts to magically ping. But the wicket alerts app seems to go very quiet when Smith and the Marsh brothers are batting. Sadly, my phone can't stop buzzing when England get to the middle, especially with a tail that starts from Moeen Ali onwards.
I was quite happy when England reached 346 in their first innings, mainly because I have set myself low expectations on this tour, but it soon became clear that our total was ever so slightly under par. Very brave of Joe Root to make it to the crease on the final day, after his bout of gastroenteritis. Quite fitting that he managed to get himself past fifty but couldn't go on.
Also good to see James Vince nicking off to slip in the second innings. He's somehow in the squad for the trip to New Zealand, so we will have to wait and see if he is given the chance to do the same thing over and over again in a couple of months time.
We have to talk about Arsenal, I guess. Sadly, I was not completely surprised by the defeat at Nottingham Forest. Arsene gambled with the team selection, and the starting XI that he picked should have been good enough to make it through to the next round. The mistake he made was not having anyone on the bench who could have made an impact on the match. I'm not going to get too moody, though. The FA Cup has been pretty good to us in recent years.
At one point this week I did start to worry that my sporting life would resemble lyrics of Craig David's worst ever song. Arsenal lost on Sunday, England were hammered on Monday, but luckily Boreham Wood won at Dagenham and Redbridge on Tuesday, and Arsenal surprised me on Wednesday. I'd love to be able to chill on Sunday, a la David circa 2000. But Arsenal are playing on that day, and it's hard to relax when watching them at the moment.
I'm a bit undecided on VAR. Part of me thinks that in this day and age, we really need to reach the right decisions. But there is a big part of me that can envisage me being involved in wild celebrations after a goal has been scored, and the next time I look up, the referee is standing by the side of the pitch looking at a television screen. I don't want to be losing my s**t over a vital goal, and then have my balloon pricked a few minutes later.
It's probably worth giving it a go, though. I'm sure there might be a few faults that will need ironing out, but as long as it doesn't slow matches down too much and make them last longer than a Test match session, then there isn't anything to lose. Remind me of this when Arsenal are mugged off massively as VAR Mike Dean decides to award a penalty against Calum Chambers for absolutely nothing whatsoever. Oh, that's happened already, hasn't it?
Previous entries:
Part 1
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