Beef Bagel

It’s been a day of ordeals. It started with an early morning race across town from the minute my phone rang. It woke me from a beautiful slumber comforted by my thumb in my mouth, my cuddly Chirpy in the crook of my arm and a dream about high fiving Dimitar the Great after we combined for my fourth straight hat-trick of the season. Damn those Ikea delivery men.

Of course instead of Chirpy there should have been an oven-warmed Lady Bagel in my arms, particularly after all the good work I’d done meeting her parents at dinner the night before. I’d charmed the smiles onto their faces with the help of three bottles of wine now turned upside down in semi-melted ice. My hand had crept up LB’s skirt, already hitched high on her thigh, as her folks talked about the values of their new Suzuki, the price of coach travel vs train and the one-upping Linda Attlee from the village book club who will no doubt Google herself one day and wonder what the hell she’s doing on a Tottenham Hotspur site.

For some reason, I’d taken “So, are you going back to yours then,” as some sort of code for “I’ll sneak round when my parents are asleep.” It was only after a few minutes walking away that the reality dawned on me. No fun tonight except a couple of overs to feed my stick cricket habit before I go to bed. Somehow it’s not quite as satisfying. Still, I had Chirpy and some shut eye until that call came all too early.

An hour later and I was trying to convince the delivery men that the 6 foot bed I’d ordered was going to fit up the 5 foot stairwell. I don’t know if you’ve ever encountered the Ikea delivery team? They are the most negative people in the world but for a good reason. They spend their days driving through London’s filthy traffic at the least Godly of hours lugging better paid people’s heavy furniture up and over the most awkward of obstacles. So, it makes their day when they can justifiably fail a delivery.

It was like trying to give a half time motivational talk to team 10-0 down at the interval at a club that’s already been relegated, with a bunch of players who always wanted to be ballet dancers anyway. Somehow, and I’m convinced the laws of Physics just weren’t looking for a second, we got the fucker up three floors and the Ikea men left nursing a gushing cut and a broken toe between them, I shit you not. Sorry gents.

Next up I was caught in the flash floods as I tried to get to the Passport Office in time for my emergency application given an expired passport and a trip to Prague for a few days that I’d forgotten all about. Ahh Prague…those heady UEFA Cup days of last September.

Thinking I’m really bright, I wait until the rains have stopped before I venture out only to find the roads are knee deep in water. I’ve never seen anything like it. I know the water was knee deep because when I took my shoes and socks off and rolled my jeans up it was up to my knees as I waded. I thought it was bloody hilarious actually, if a little slow going. One of my more surreal moments in the capital, making my way through the tributaries running through the council estates holding my shoes in one hand and an oversized wooden chopping board in the other.

So eventually, I make it to the Passport Office a little late having forgotten my passport application form, my money and my passport photos. As I realised, I thought I’d take a look into my bag to see exactly what I’d decided to bring instead: the book I’m reading and a single dirty sock. It must have been single dirty sock day at the Passport Office because somehow they went for it and agreed to process my application with the aid of a photo booth and a few bit n’ pieces lying around the office. And now…here I am.

So a day of ordeals but successfully negotiated ones. Luckily it’s not only been a day of ordeals but a day of football deals as well - well one of sigificance anyway. In case you’ve been living in a hole or simply drifting around the streets in a dingy, a price has been agreed for Hossam the Wonder Horse. Punchbag Face is willing to hand over £6m smackers for the Big Gypo and not a word of Ghaly involved. Sounds like a good deal to The Bagel - all of our money back plus a little and still up one unpredictable squad player. Certainly makes a change from yesterday which shall go down as the single most boring day in football where barely a Championship deal was done nor a Rymans League rumour.

The other bits of interest today are the Bonders bits and a bit of a downer on the Wesley Sneijder front, who to be fair, I’d actually forgotten all about.

Chimbawumba’s agent, Roger Boli (the man with the lolly) has said:

“I think Pascal is number two on Chelsea’s list behind Sevilla’s Daniel Alves, I know that Jose Mourinho likes him a lot. He prefers serious defenders rather than defender attackers.”

Now, I would’ve said that Alves was more of a defender attacker myself so I’m not sure where that leaves us all. None of us want Chimbondabonda to go but does that mean we would have a pop at Alves if he did? No, it doesn’t. So, awful though that it is, let’s hope Chelsea get the Sevillian Brazilian.

And who said that all this big money spending didn’t matter when you were near the top? It’s not just Tony Mowbray who’s got a taste for greed. Ajax boss, Ten Cate, which sounds like a made-up name to me, is not willing to let go of star man, Wesley Sneijder, without a fight or alternatively enough money to buy all the Edam in Holland. He’s seen what we over here are are happy to spend with Liverpool splashing £11.5m on Marcus Babel and he knows there’s a buck to made if there’s a player to be lost. He said:

“Ajax now want 30 million euros (£20million) for Sneijder and that’s a figure I can live with. You must pay the right price for quality and Sneijder is top class. I am glad that the directors have given out a signal to the foreign clubs. It would make me very happy if he stays here for another year.”

That sounds to me like one player who isn’t going anywhere.

But then again this is football and who knows what next week will bring. See you there.

You know in Paris, you can buy a bagel in McDonalds.

The Bagel.
 

This entry was posted on Friday, July 20th, 2007 at 5:43 pm and is filed under Bagel News. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.