A footballer’s life is nasty, brutish and short

5 10 2011

Earlier this week I received  this message on facebook;

“Pretty much but not confirmed yet!”

I thought nothing of the message,  it was merely another ordinary message from a friend.

After logging off the words haunted me as I realised the true significance of the words. I logged back in to see that my worst fears had been realised. Not only had a Jet Set footballer retired, a Jet Set footballer had become alienated from football.

My computer screen was filled by the process of football alienation, facebook’s new  practice of stacking messages allowed me to see this clearly. The chain of messages began last year with optimism and joie de vivre but now there was a gnawing mental toothache and an alienation from happiness.

Generally we don’t hear enough about this headache grey side of football. The media steers clear of this side, the side that’s dominated by boredom and a grinding sense of fatigue, when it’s too much of an effort to visualise missing an open goal. We should be told about this side. In order for you to gain a proper understanding of the process, and possibly help you to prepare for it, I’ll take you back to the beginning of our story.

Last year the footballing wing of the Llandudno Jet Set needed players but we didn’t need just any players, we needed people who fitted in with the philosophy of the Llandudno Jet Set’s (A.K.A. Not being a shouty showboating tosser).

Comrade G had been out of the picture for a while but his soul was pure and he was just the sort of character that our team could build their hopes and dreams around. Unfortunately all we had to go on was part a couple of rumoured sightings in the hostelries of Llandudno since 2004. 

Then Comrade G got in touch. Apparently Comrade N had been in touch to explain our plight.


Note the joy in these messages as the possibilities are visualised.

Oct 1 2010

Comrade G (C.G.)“Do you need a real warhorse for your Jet Set plight? Don’t tell anyone yet!”

Comrade Kowalski (C.K.)“It has become apparent that we have been lacking in several aspects over the last few matches, if not months but I haven’t been able to put my finger on the precise problem. Now fate has sent us a message.”

Oct 2 2010

C.K.“We have been missing your presence; will you join us to help in our quest to beat the forces of scalliedom and buffoonery?”

Oct 3 2010

C.G. – “I have made an agreement with Real Zaragoza. I am now able to leave the club for free now instead of the end of the season.” 

Oct 4 2010

C.K.“You’re hired, on a 25 year deal!”

C.G.“Excellent news, I will give everything for the club. Before I make an official statement about this great club being in a false position, could you tell me where in the table we are. Plus you could announce the mega signing on the club website!” 


Now note the change of tone brought on by the shattering of dreams;

Aug 27 2011

C.K.“Have you given up football?”

Oct 3 2011

C.G.“Pretty much but not confirmed yet!” 


As you can see something that started as a hope-filled adventure ended in a 5 week wait for a reply. When I finally  received the stark reply I was reminded that football crushes hope like a brick crushes a Rose bush.

The starkness of the reply removed any doubt about the alienating effect of football; there was no joy, no wonderful plans, just six words to explain how football dreams end. Just six plain, ordinary, everyday words

I hate you football, you heartless brute.




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