Tuesday Round Up

NFL GTF

The “NFL International Series” that is neither “International” nor a “Series” has been going a while now, and for the second time in three years, involved the Tamper Gimp Profiteers. Obviously this stinks to shamayim and beyond, compromising the rigid format that underpins any league system. But on top of that, each team plays at home only eight times in the regular season, so the expropriation of one has a significant impact on those who seriously care about it and whom it genuinely represents – I doubt the various suits would cede 12.5% of their piss-steam, let alone something that they actually value. Of course if the FA had any dignity, it’d invite them to deposit their “NFL International Series” that is neither “International” nor a “Series” in their respective recta, but more likely is already ensconced therein, taking tea and making notes. For now, administrators claim that they’ve no interest in moving a team to London permanently – not that I’d entrust them with anything but my distrust – and certainly seem keen on imposing a particular franchise on the city. Or in other words, they’d like fans to bin the team they currently root for, and leave the unaffiliated and unborn with no choice but to fondle the exchequer of whichever team is foisted upon them in the future. Though I find it tricky to comprehend how anyone in this country can truly care about a particular team in another, at the same time it offers an opportunity rarely available to sports fans – that of choosing a team regardless of parentage and place – and I hope no one’s about to let the NFL imperialise it simply because its most cash-deprived-Glazer-owned franchise needs a boost.

Follywank/Lollywank

The film industry’s been fucked for years, but is more at the mercy of directors than ever before. In the 50s, big production houses fostered the cult of auteur, which worked well initially, creating stars who could sell a film as well as any actor or story. Now, though, studios have no choice but to let them do whatever they like, because if they don’t they’ll just take their guaranteed cash elsewhere. The result is films like Australia, Kill Bill and The Dark Knight, films made by the directors for themselves – all of value, but none as good as they should’ve been, or could’ve been with a decent, empowered producer. But another level of mental altogether is a director spunking £18m on their first feature simply on account of being Madonna. Of course she may have done an incredible job – but praise from the Mail suggests otherwise, and the Guardian review calls it “an extraordinarily silly, preening, fatally mishandled film”. Now, I’m not entirely convinced as to the death-inducing capacity of the incompetence, but am absolutely so that every other word is accurate, and that this new field of insult is only just beginning.

Balotelli has gone mainstream

Fireworks, top down Bentleys and girlfriends (note the ‘s’). He’s a loveable rogue, a jaunty maverick and an international playboy. Yes, this is all very enjoyable, it’s nice to watch a genius embrace a sense of joy all the while not loudly self-destructing off the pitch. His problems are an overwrought sense of fun and an ability to get into largely harmless but distracting headline scrapes.

An excellent player – just see Sunday – if he really needs to make it, he needs to go sincerely rogue. Chin someone, Mario. Lose the fairweather fans and chin someone.

He’s not that kind of Prime Minister

‘Calm down dear.’

‘I do the talking, the army does the fighting.’

‘Everytime I see Hillsborough mentioned on TV I see Andy Burnham.’

Whatever your politics, it’s hard to deny the sheer scale of David Cameron’s pettiness. You would never think that a man from a privileged background, who has no money worries of his own, would be so sensitive to other’s work that every time he is mildly criticised or challenged, he comes out with a sneering retort.

Not that kind of Prime Minister, but he is that type of wanker.

Poor Dimi’s goin’ Aldershot, Aldershot, Aldershot, poor Dimi’s going Aldershot and so is Michael Owen

Poor Dimi’s goin’ Aldershot, Aldershot, Aldershot, poor Dimi’s going Aldershot and so is Michael Owen

More from the FCF here.