By Steff Jelling
August 26 2009
I have had a falling out with my husband over Hartlepool Unitedís players. I was talking to him the other day, after the games against Charlton and Bristol Rovers, and said what nice boys they all seem, with the new signings fitting in so well with the others players. I said how neat and tidy they all looked, and how polite and well-mannered they seemed.
Well, the reaction was terrible. He almost bit my head off.
“Who cars what they look like?” he said. “I couldn’t care less if their arses are hanging out of their shorts and they wipe their noses on their sleeves, as long as they can play.”
Well, I had to ask him to stop using such bad language in front of the cat, but he persisted.
“And as for them being polite and well-mannered. I’d rather we had a few thugs in the side who got stuck in and kicked the opposition a bit,” he yelled.
That was the limit for me. Good manners cost nothing, I told him, and there’s no reason why footballers shouldn’t be nice to each other. After all, it’s a sport and sportsmanship is very important.
“Good manners my arse,” he bellowed. I had to close the windows in case the neighbours heard it. He looked like that acrtoon thingy, Taz.
He usually loses his temper if he sees somebody wearing a Newcastle shirt in the Asda or if the cat poos on his sweat peas.
But this was just too much.
“I want a team that is ugly and plays ugly,” he said. “I want other teams to hate playing against them and I want the rival fans to hate them as well.
“I want them to kick, elbow, scratch, swear and glare at the opposition, and win every game 1-0 with a last-minute own goal.”
He stormed off to his greenhouse, and I shouted after him that he could get his own tea. I mean, all I said was that the team looked a nice group of boys, and that’s the reaction I get.
And, excuse me, but I do NOT want to be going to football matches to see people kicking and elbowing each other.
I get enough of that at the supermarket.