It's definately a Bananarama sorta day today.
Bananarama - Na Na Hey Hey (Kiss Him Goodbye)
It's the moment this blog has been waiting for ever since we gave birth to it that night back in 2008. No, we haven't stumbled on a Judith from Eggheads narrated sextape of Victoria Coren lezzing off with the Sweet Valley High twins, but it really is the next best thing imaginable as we can finally say Ciou to the managerial genius who thought it was a good idea to play Harry Kewell in a champions League final and piss Xavi Alonso off so much that he left.
Football is still a bit of a Draconian sport sometimes, though. Not because of goalline camera technology not being utilized to the fullest or boring anything like that, but more because it hasn't adopted tactics from the sport of the gods : wrestling. Why, if your team is losing, can't your manager and substitutes run onto the field wielding chairs and get the game nullified, and why aren't managers relinquished of their positions subjected to humiliating leaving rituals in front of baying crowds?
Na Na Na Na
Na Na Na Na
Now, if Gerrard can manage to score an own goal in England's first World Cup game to turn himself into a national figure of hate and have people finally wake up to the fact that he really is little more than a slightly above-average player who comes up with the odd flukey goal which then results in Capello dropping him to allow a holding midfielder to play with Fat Frank instead then, gosh, this is going to be the bestest World Cup since 1994.
This fall from grace would also result in Mourinho coming to his senses and realising that Gerrard is the last player on earth he needs at Madrid and instead securing the signature of the one English player who's absolutely tailor made for the Mourinho style of play : Rory Delap.
Bananarama - Cruel Summer