I'm rather frustrated by this. LGBT History Month is indeed an event of good faith however, in my mind, it does completely the opposite of what it is supposed to. It is described by the official website as a "Celebration of the lives and achievements of the LGBT community". What it actually does however is highlight everything that is wrong with the world. That may sound drastic, but if it is equality we are after, why are we pushing the notion of a dedicated month for LGBT people in other's faces? If it is equality we want, then why are we not championing it all year round, with equal intensity? If we really are like everyone else - which we are - why are we celebrating a month based on an attribute of ourselves? I am me. I am completely normal. And I don't want a dedicated month to carouse it.
I believe Morgan Freeman has similar views on the crazy notion of Black History Month. Why should the history of black people be relegated to a month? Why can it not be classed as "history"? A past that includes everyone and everything. It says a lot about the world when the human race is prepared to place parts of society in a box and celebrate their existence for a whole month. I don't see why a flag should be flown to show support of the LGBT community when it is human nature to support them unconditionally regardless of whether it is February or October. I, as do many others, get that the intention is to promote awareness, but we shouldn't need to promote awareness because what's being "promoted" shouldn't be seen as different. And by dedicating a month to it, it clearly suggests that being gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgender is exactly that. Different.
The very people promoting equality are providing the opportunity for people to recognise the inequality and prey upon it. This is wrong.
Society should unquestionably and without hesitation support the idea of "equality". If the world was a perfect place, that word wouldn't even exist. True, there are people out there who unfortunately still hold prejudices, but why not educate them all year round? Suggesting that there is a "special month" for this sort of thing suggests that it is ranked alongside the likes of Autism Awareness Month, AIDS Awareness Day and many, many other dedicated days and months that exist. This is quite frankly nothing short of an insult. Don't the people championing this month recognise that?
Despite the undoubted best intentions of the community, I'm afraid this charade is an embarrassment. Something else that irks me about this sort of thing is the random events that occur. I'd like to quote an extract from the local paper, the Times & Citizen, from this evening's edition:
...
"To mark the event, the group have teamed up with the Rock City Art Gallery, in Castle Quay, to support their launch of She-Bop-A-Lula exhibition. The exhibit showcases photographs of iconic female musicians such as The Spice Girls and Etta James, taken by the best female photographers in the business".
...
I think that paragraph sums it up quite well. Despite promoting an event based on the work of the LGBT community, the very first event is based on photographs of... well... Anyone. There is nothing there to suggest that the work of an LGBT person has been praised, so what is the point of doing it?
I'm not sure I can say a lot more. Someone mentioned that it is similar to the website I donated my Coming Out story to, but I don't think that's the case. That website is primarily designed to help people accept who they are within themselves. As soon as you've done that, you can live a normal life, just like anyone else. Just like any "straight people". For we are all equal. Aren't we?
Thursday 31 January 2013
Saturday 26 January 2013
Critique
I have a problem with arrogance. People who walk around parading their apparent greatness and forcing it on to others, proclaiming that they are the greatest. It grinds my gears. There is a difference between confidence and arrogance. Confidence is a good thing, whereas arrogance is plain annoying. Kindness in words creates confidence. Kindness in nothing creates arrogance.
My definition of arrogance probably differs from others though. Especially lately, I have been hearing people saying "my" or "me" in a way that makes it sound as if the subject they are talking about is their possession. An example I hear everyday is the expression, "I have 30 staff working for me". Now, I don't like that. A manager in the place of work employs staff, but to say "me" in such a possessive way is something that is very frustrating to hear. Now I am the manager of our wee little post office branch, I could walk around saying "my" branch. But I don't. I say "our" branch. Because there are other people that work there apart from me. We work as a team to gain results, and I just happen to head the team up. There are only a few of us, but it makes no difference whether it is a team of 3 or a team of 300 in my eyes. We are still a team. We still work together and help each other out, for we are together. Why should I walk around proclaiming it's mine?
Another example is on the cricket pitch. I am the captain of 2 sides, and everyday (in the Summer), I hear captains asking players, "can you play for ME on Saturday?" That's not right in my book. These players are not playing for the captain, they are playing for the team. I tend to ask players if they "want to play for us" at the weekend, instead of "playing for me". After all, they are not playing for ME to get promoted. They are playing for US to get promoted. In much the same way as the first example, I just happen to lead the team, so why should I say it's mine? It's not my team. It's our team.
Now, you may be thinking, "What is he talking about?", but this is something that winds me up something chronic. It goes back to the point about confidence and arrogance. I just wonder if people merely walk around claiming that people are theirs, just to look better and more powerful. I believe that people use these sorts of expressions to push their status on to others. Maybe people do that to improve their own self-esteem, but instead it turns to arrogance? I do wonder if I should start imposing myself a bit more by starting to use these expressions of possession, but I couldn't keep it up without feeling like I'm turning into a stereotypical being of management.
Talking of management, I don't feel like a manager at work. I'm basically doing the same job I did before but with a different title, (and a higher pay bracket). This is a good thing I suppose, as I feel under less pressure than if I had to learn more responsibilites on top of the shed load I already have. Soaking up more procedures into the already saturated sponge that is my brain, (some of which I had to delve deep to remember on a messy Friday afternoon), wouldn't be a good thing given I am still coming to terms with this change of lifestyle. The original plan of waking up at 8am EVERY DAY hasn't quite worked out, but I'm certainly doing a lot better than I was. And I haven't had any alcohol whatsoever despite increasing temptation and peer pressure. It'll take time.
My Coming Out Story also got published this week. Yes, I know I technically wrote it before Christmas, but I donated it to a website that was created to collate "coming out" stories that can provide help, guidance and inspiration to others going on that journey and I've already received messages from strangers who read it and felt inspired to come out themselves, or failing that, felt more comfortable about being gay. This was my intention. To help others. I am not the sort of person to merely do something so big just for the praise. Obviously it's a bonus, but primarily I just want to help.
As I said earlier, I am not the person who thinks, "me me me" all the time. It's us. Whether at work, playing sport or in life in general, we are a team. And we should help each other.
For those people interested, my Coming Out Story (published by RUComing Out): http://www.rucomingout.com/tom21.html#.UP_T6GBw-mQ.twitter
Follow @RUComingOut on Twitter! It's an amazing site!
My definition of arrogance probably differs from others though. Especially lately, I have been hearing people saying "my" or "me" in a way that makes it sound as if the subject they are talking about is their possession. An example I hear everyday is the expression, "I have 30 staff working for me". Now, I don't like that. A manager in the place of work employs staff, but to say "me" in such a possessive way is something that is very frustrating to hear. Now I am the manager of our wee little post office branch, I could walk around saying "my" branch. But I don't. I say "our" branch. Because there are other people that work there apart from me. We work as a team to gain results, and I just happen to head the team up. There are only a few of us, but it makes no difference whether it is a team of 3 or a team of 300 in my eyes. We are still a team. We still work together and help each other out, for we are together. Why should I walk around proclaiming it's mine?
Another example is on the cricket pitch. I am the captain of 2 sides, and everyday (in the Summer), I hear captains asking players, "can you play for ME on Saturday?" That's not right in my book. These players are not playing for the captain, they are playing for the team. I tend to ask players if they "want to play for us" at the weekend, instead of "playing for me". After all, they are not playing for ME to get promoted. They are playing for US to get promoted. In much the same way as the first example, I just happen to lead the team, so why should I say it's mine? It's not my team. It's our team.
Now, you may be thinking, "What is he talking about?", but this is something that winds me up something chronic. It goes back to the point about confidence and arrogance. I just wonder if people merely walk around claiming that people are theirs, just to look better and more powerful. I believe that people use these sorts of expressions to push their status on to others. Maybe people do that to improve their own self-esteem, but instead it turns to arrogance? I do wonder if I should start imposing myself a bit more by starting to use these expressions of possession, but I couldn't keep it up without feeling like I'm turning into a stereotypical being of management.
Talking of management, I don't feel like a manager at work. I'm basically doing the same job I did before but with a different title, (and a higher pay bracket). This is a good thing I suppose, as I feel under less pressure than if I had to learn more responsibilites on top of the shed load I already have. Soaking up more procedures into the already saturated sponge that is my brain, (some of which I had to delve deep to remember on a messy Friday afternoon), wouldn't be a good thing given I am still coming to terms with this change of lifestyle. The original plan of waking up at 8am EVERY DAY hasn't quite worked out, but I'm certainly doing a lot better than I was. And I haven't had any alcohol whatsoever despite increasing temptation and peer pressure. It'll take time.
My Coming Out Story also got published this week. Yes, I know I technically wrote it before Christmas, but I donated it to a website that was created to collate "coming out" stories that can provide help, guidance and inspiration to others going on that journey and I've already received messages from strangers who read it and felt inspired to come out themselves, or failing that, felt more comfortable about being gay. This was my intention. To help others. I am not the sort of person to merely do something so big just for the praise. Obviously it's a bonus, but primarily I just want to help.
As I said earlier, I am not the person who thinks, "me me me" all the time. It's us. Whether at work, playing sport or in life in general, we are a team. And we should help each other.
For those people interested, my Coming Out Story (published by RUComing Out): http://www.rucomingout.com/tom21.html#.UP_T6GBw-mQ.twitter
Follow @RUComingOut on Twitter! It's an amazing site!
Sunday 20 January 2013
Team Sober
In this booze-cruise world of ours, a Saturday night can only mean one thing. I am 21, and the idea of staying in on a Saturday night with a box of maltesers, watching 'Splash' on ITV for the 3rd week running was too much for me to handle. At 8pm, I had given in and texted around to see what people were up to and invariably, given it was a Saturday night, there was bound to be something going on. Last night was no exception. But when you live in a world with a drinking culture as prominent as ours, it can be extremely difficult to muster up the courage to descend on the madness without downing a few swifters first. Last night however, for only the 2nd time ever, and the first time in a long, long time, I ventured out completely stone cold sober. Nobody knows the things I have seen. Although going out sober can be an awkward existence, it also provided me with a few enlightening views.
1. People assume you are drunk regardless.
Yes, whilst dancing to music that had more of a resemblence to a fire alarm than actual music, trying so desperately to not look as if I was simply shuffling around in a mediocre circular pattern, I noticed something peculiar. Upon meeting a few people I know, I got the distinct impression that they just thought I was as drunk as them. I can't exactly pinpoint why, but it is extremely frustrating when people treat you as if you've had a few too many, when all you've had is a few glasses of Red Bull. It goes without saying that conversation is hardly stimulating given the atmosphere, but to be asked the same question three times in a row is something you simply ignore when you're drunk. When you're sober, its just annoying. Also, when my friend stumbled into another party-goer, I had to apologise on his behalf given his inebriated state, and simply received a, "F*** you!" in reply ... Which is always nice isn't it. When you're drunk, it's all part of the game. When you're sober, it's just an insult. Lovely.
2. It's Winter. You can feel the cold!
Yep, you guessed it. For years simply going out in a t-shirt was fine, because the warmth that alcohol provides is enough to keep you sane before stepping inside a bar. Knowing I was going to be sober then, I wore a slightly thicker jumper in preperation, but you do not realise how cold it is at midnight in the middle of winter when you're the funnier side of drunk. When I stepped out of the taxi into the cold winter air, it felt as if I had landed in the Arctic Circle. Looking at my phone, I see the temperature is -2, but "feels like" -9. Red Bull sure can give you wings, but it can't give you warmth.
3. The reality of what you are actually doing sets in.
I've been dancing on the smallest dancefloor for an hour now, surrounded by hunters and huntees. It's the time of night where the men of the drinking world attempt to gather a mate for the evening and being in the middle of this Rumble in the Jungle, whilst completely sober, is a harrowing experience. Simply looking at a girl who someone else has spotted can lead to confrontation - a story I saw unravel in the middle of The Rose, when two guys pounced at the exact same moment and then ended up scrapping and being thrown out. When you are six shots deep, this is considered normal viewing. When you're simply wide awake due to caffeine overdose, you realise how ridiculous this is. The sight of a man throwing up in the corner of the place can be quite humourous when you're filled to the brim with JD - because it isn't you throwing up - but being sober and seeing this sight isn't exactly my idea of "good fun". Being jumped on by an old school friend whilst drunk is possibly the greatest thing to happen on a night out. When you're sober, and very cold, you do wonder if that person just broke one of your vertebrae. What am I actually doing here?
4. The "important" arguments of the night are seen for what they are. Childishness.
There was a few examples last night where I was stood listening to people arguing over the most silly and pointless things imaginable. A pair of "lads", (yep - that sort of human), nearly got into a fist-fight over 20p. Stood outside, trying to keep warm under one of the few heaters in the entire establishment, I watched as two fully grown men had a slanging match over the destination of a 20p coin. It was quite unbelievable. Stood at the bar, only 10 minutes later, an argument broke out between two girls over who was first in the queue. Another girl on the dancefloor pushed a guy for "brushing up against her", despite the size of the dancefloor meaning that everyone was pretty much doing the same to everyone. When you're pissed as newts, this seems as if its a common occurrence. When you're not, you do wonder what happens to brain cells when they are taken over by vodka and beer.
The only similarity between going out and drinking and going out and not drinking is the part when you get home and try to go to sleep. Sleeping is impossible when you still have the ringing of the outrageously loud music in your ears, and the alcohol still flowing around the blood. Last night, it was merely caffeine keeping me awake, and what for? So I can watch people get drunk? Is it worth it?
Oh, there are benefits, certainly. There are fewer casualties for starters, without the risk of vomiting on yourself, or spilling that expensive double vodka on your brand new top. I'm also sure my bank balance, which was braced for a battering, was wondering if I was feeling alright as I took a mere £10 out of the NatWest cash point. There is also the strangely good feeling of acting completely normally, and therefore rationally, surrounded by others who think that buying drinks for complete strangers is an act of social inclusion and a great way to make new friends.
However, at the end of the day, it wasn't amazing. Although there were amusing moments, there was a lack of spark, the absence of that priceless moment that defines a "night out". There was also a feeling of loneliness, a feeling that I was on a much higher social level than the drunks that surrounded me, (I wonder why that was?!), and slight frustration at feeling the need to make sure my totaled friends didn't get involved in the endless scrapes that occur. If given the choice to stay in or go out sober then, I would most probably go out. But as soon as another offer comes up, I will most probably take that one. It certainly wasn't up there as the greatest.
But better than watching Dom Joly belly flop into a swimming pool.
1. People assume you are drunk regardless.
Yes, whilst dancing to music that had more of a resemblence to a fire alarm than actual music, trying so desperately to not look as if I was simply shuffling around in a mediocre circular pattern, I noticed something peculiar. Upon meeting a few people I know, I got the distinct impression that they just thought I was as drunk as them. I can't exactly pinpoint why, but it is extremely frustrating when people treat you as if you've had a few too many, when all you've had is a few glasses of Red Bull. It goes without saying that conversation is hardly stimulating given the atmosphere, but to be asked the same question three times in a row is something you simply ignore when you're drunk. When you're sober, its just annoying. Also, when my friend stumbled into another party-goer, I had to apologise on his behalf given his inebriated state, and simply received a, "F*** you!" in reply ... Which is always nice isn't it. When you're drunk, it's all part of the game. When you're sober, it's just an insult. Lovely.
2. It's Winter. You can feel the cold!
Yep, you guessed it. For years simply going out in a t-shirt was fine, because the warmth that alcohol provides is enough to keep you sane before stepping inside a bar. Knowing I was going to be sober then, I wore a slightly thicker jumper in preperation, but you do not realise how cold it is at midnight in the middle of winter when you're the funnier side of drunk. When I stepped out of the taxi into the cold winter air, it felt as if I had landed in the Arctic Circle. Looking at my phone, I see the temperature is -2, but "feels like" -9. Red Bull sure can give you wings, but it can't give you warmth.
3. The reality of what you are actually doing sets in.
I've been dancing on the smallest dancefloor for an hour now, surrounded by hunters and huntees. It's the time of night where the men of the drinking world attempt to gather a mate for the evening and being in the middle of this Rumble in the Jungle, whilst completely sober, is a harrowing experience. Simply looking at a girl who someone else has spotted can lead to confrontation - a story I saw unravel in the middle of The Rose, when two guys pounced at the exact same moment and then ended up scrapping and being thrown out. When you are six shots deep, this is considered normal viewing. When you're simply wide awake due to caffeine overdose, you realise how ridiculous this is. The sight of a man throwing up in the corner of the place can be quite humourous when you're filled to the brim with JD - because it isn't you throwing up - but being sober and seeing this sight isn't exactly my idea of "good fun". Being jumped on by an old school friend whilst drunk is possibly the greatest thing to happen on a night out. When you're sober, and very cold, you do wonder if that person just broke one of your vertebrae. What am I actually doing here?
4. The "important" arguments of the night are seen for what they are. Childishness.
There was a few examples last night where I was stood listening to people arguing over the most silly and pointless things imaginable. A pair of "lads", (yep - that sort of human), nearly got into a fist-fight over 20p. Stood outside, trying to keep warm under one of the few heaters in the entire establishment, I watched as two fully grown men had a slanging match over the destination of a 20p coin. It was quite unbelievable. Stood at the bar, only 10 minutes later, an argument broke out between two girls over who was first in the queue. Another girl on the dancefloor pushed a guy for "brushing up against her", despite the size of the dancefloor meaning that everyone was pretty much doing the same to everyone. When you're pissed as newts, this seems as if its a common occurrence. When you're not, you do wonder what happens to brain cells when they are taken over by vodka and beer.
The only similarity between going out and drinking and going out and not drinking is the part when you get home and try to go to sleep. Sleeping is impossible when you still have the ringing of the outrageously loud music in your ears, and the alcohol still flowing around the blood. Last night, it was merely caffeine keeping me awake, and what for? So I can watch people get drunk? Is it worth it?
Oh, there are benefits, certainly. There are fewer casualties for starters, without the risk of vomiting on yourself, or spilling that expensive double vodka on your brand new top. I'm also sure my bank balance, which was braced for a battering, was wondering if I was feeling alright as I took a mere £10 out of the NatWest cash point. There is also the strangely good feeling of acting completely normally, and therefore rationally, surrounded by others who think that buying drinks for complete strangers is an act of social inclusion and a great way to make new friends.
However, at the end of the day, it wasn't amazing. Although there were amusing moments, there was a lack of spark, the absence of that priceless moment that defines a "night out". There was also a feeling of loneliness, a feeling that I was on a much higher social level than the drunks that surrounded me, (I wonder why that was?!), and slight frustration at feeling the need to make sure my totaled friends didn't get involved in the endless scrapes that occur. If given the choice to stay in or go out sober then, I would most probably go out. But as soon as another offer comes up, I will most probably take that one. It certainly wasn't up there as the greatest.
But better than watching Dom Joly belly flop into a swimming pool.
Wednesday 16 January 2013
The Road to the Rainbow State
Homosexual. How does that word make you feel? Awkward? If so, why? The vast majority of the UK population in 2013 accept that being gay is perfectly normal. This is a far cry from 40 years ago, when being a homosexual was considered a mental disorder, but I still get the impression that some "straight folk", (I figure that is the best way of classing some heteros of the world!), still act a little shocked at the whole idea of homosexuality. Not in an offensive or disrespectful manner. Just... Almost as if being heterosexual is the default setting - and anything other than that means you've been tampered with slightly. Does that make sense?
What gets to me most is the apparent lack of education and simple knowledge about the matter. I've recently seen comments and tweets, phrases and even whole articles that suggest that homosexuality is a choice, of which it is not. I struggle to work out why people would choose to spend years in a perpetual state of fear over what is a part of their makeup. I do wonder that if it were really a choice, how many people would choose to go down the path of possible social exclusion, immense difficulty and torture. Judging by the amount of people who were born LGBT, (apparently its 1 in 10 people), I fail to see the logic behind that statement. One in ten people cannot be so doltish as to choose a period of life that leads them to possible sadness. Just with other social inequalities, the general public should really educate themselves on potential sensitive matters before commenting.
I haven't received a single word of negativity since coming out a few months ago though. It's all been, "Huge respect for being so brave" here and, "Congratulations on discovering yourself" there. It's nice to receive the compliments of course, but I am still struggling to work out the reason why people feel the need to come out? Walking into a bar, hand in hand with another gentleman when you haven't revealed your sexuality is the social equivalent of riding into work on the back of an elephant. For some social reason, the shock will be resounding, when on paper, and in a country that has claimed to accept the notion of homosexuality, it really shouldn't be. Even I don't know why I came out so publicly myself. I know that the fear of others reactions is the overriding emotion to any person who is still "in the closet", (Even these phrases associated with homosexuality make me feel slightly uneasy...), but declaring my sexuality in such a public way was almost the final step of the journey for me. It felt right. Up until a few years ago, we only ever heard negativity regarding the whole stigma of homosexuality, which certainly didn't help me as a young man. Now, the positive vibes that eminate from a figure of stardom 'coming out' can only send a fellow struggler further up the chain of confidence. This is a good thing.
We now have celebrities coming out in vast quantities, having realised that the reaction will most probably be positive and it's bound to inspire people. Ricky Martin. Cricketer, Steven Davies. Olympic gold-medallist Nicola Adams. Gareth Thomas. These people certainly inspired me. This poses the question, "Do celebrities have a responsibility to come out to help others?" It's a tricky question... On one hand, a celebrity is still a human being. They have most probably been through the same journey as any LGBT person, faces the same fears of prejudice as anyone else and is sure to wonder how people will react to them. They are not immune to fear because of their status. This discovery is a personal journey, so why should celebrities open it up to the world? On the other hand, people would claim that the acceptance of other celebrities is there and now always will be, so what is stopping them? When there is bound to be no negativity, why stop short of inspiring others who may be in a compromising position? In a nutshell, it doesn't matter. It is the decision of the human being themselves, and no one should be against that.
For, as Jodie Foster recently said in her "I'm coming out, but not really coming out" speech ... "If you'd had to fight for a life that felt honest and real against all odds, then maybe you would value privacy above all else". It's private. It's personal. It's life. The human race has a long way to go before the issue of sexuality becomes a non-issue, but it has certainly started the process. Will there always be those who think it is wrong? Most probably. Unfortunately, there are still people who detest the sight of a black person walking the streets, and I'm afraid the case will be the same when it comes to gay couples. But for those who are happy within ourselves, and have important figures around us who are as equally happy with us - You can't help but feel that battle you fought for years has been won. It's one of the best feelings. But it would be even better when we can walk the streets without that one little thought clinging on to the back of our brains with all the memories of Winters past. When will we be completely accepted?
P.S.
I saw a cracking tweet a couple of weeks back that I thought I would shove on the end of this post:
"I hate having to answer to all these straight rumours. I have nothing against straight people though, some of my best friends are straight."
If we are all equal, where are their coming out stories?
What gets to me most is the apparent lack of education and simple knowledge about the matter. I've recently seen comments and tweets, phrases and even whole articles that suggest that homosexuality is a choice, of which it is not. I struggle to work out why people would choose to spend years in a perpetual state of fear over what is a part of their makeup. I do wonder that if it were really a choice, how many people would choose to go down the path of possible social exclusion, immense difficulty and torture. Judging by the amount of people who were born LGBT, (apparently its 1 in 10 people), I fail to see the logic behind that statement. One in ten people cannot be so doltish as to choose a period of life that leads them to possible sadness. Just with other social inequalities, the general public should really educate themselves on potential sensitive matters before commenting.
I haven't received a single word of negativity since coming out a few months ago though. It's all been, "Huge respect for being so brave" here and, "Congratulations on discovering yourself" there. It's nice to receive the compliments of course, but I am still struggling to work out the reason why people feel the need to come out? Walking into a bar, hand in hand with another gentleman when you haven't revealed your sexuality is the social equivalent of riding into work on the back of an elephant. For some social reason, the shock will be resounding, when on paper, and in a country that has claimed to accept the notion of homosexuality, it really shouldn't be. Even I don't know why I came out so publicly myself. I know that the fear of others reactions is the overriding emotion to any person who is still "in the closet", (Even these phrases associated with homosexuality make me feel slightly uneasy...), but declaring my sexuality in such a public way was almost the final step of the journey for me. It felt right. Up until a few years ago, we only ever heard negativity regarding the whole stigma of homosexuality, which certainly didn't help me as a young man. Now, the positive vibes that eminate from a figure of stardom 'coming out' can only send a fellow struggler further up the chain of confidence. This is a good thing.
We now have celebrities coming out in vast quantities, having realised that the reaction will most probably be positive and it's bound to inspire people. Ricky Martin. Cricketer, Steven Davies. Olympic gold-medallist Nicola Adams. Gareth Thomas. These people certainly inspired me. This poses the question, "Do celebrities have a responsibility to come out to help others?" It's a tricky question... On one hand, a celebrity is still a human being. They have most probably been through the same journey as any LGBT person, faces the same fears of prejudice as anyone else and is sure to wonder how people will react to them. They are not immune to fear because of their status. This discovery is a personal journey, so why should celebrities open it up to the world? On the other hand, people would claim that the acceptance of other celebrities is there and now always will be, so what is stopping them? When there is bound to be no negativity, why stop short of inspiring others who may be in a compromising position? In a nutshell, it doesn't matter. It is the decision of the human being themselves, and no one should be against that.
For, as Jodie Foster recently said in her "I'm coming out, but not really coming out" speech ... "If you'd had to fight for a life that felt honest and real against all odds, then maybe you would value privacy above all else". It's private. It's personal. It's life. The human race has a long way to go before the issue of sexuality becomes a non-issue, but it has certainly started the process. Will there always be those who think it is wrong? Most probably. Unfortunately, there are still people who detest the sight of a black person walking the streets, and I'm afraid the case will be the same when it comes to gay couples. But for those who are happy within ourselves, and have important figures around us who are as equally happy with us - You can't help but feel that battle you fought for years has been won. It's one of the best feelings. But it would be even better when we can walk the streets without that one little thought clinging on to the back of our brains with all the memories of Winters past. When will we be completely accepted?
P.S.
I saw a cracking tweet a couple of weeks back that I thought I would shove on the end of this post:
"I hate having to answer to all these straight rumours. I have nothing against straight people though, some of my best friends are straight."
If we are all equal, where are their coming out stories?
Tuesday 15 January 2013
What Happens in Kavos...
Yesterday evening, I watched a show on Channel 4 called, 'What Happens in Kavos'. It was a documentary based around the antics of mostly teenagers as they embark on a "lads" or "girls" holiday to a classic party resort. I have always heard good stories about these places. Many of my friends have been on at least one themselves, and have come home sporting bronze tans, less money but a bucketful of memories and memoirs. Even with my apparent reputation on the drinking scene in the past few years though, I have always been absolutely terrified of the idea of going to one of these party islands, and watching this documentary last night confirmed why I felt this way.
A couple of weeks ago, I was watching another documentary, narrated by a girl called Stacey Dooley, entitled 'The Truth About Magaluf', which was a similar sort of programme to the one I watched last night. It allowed Miss Dooley to see behind the scenes of the madness of "Shagaluf", and opened my eyes into the jobs that people have there, and the impact on the locals as the island is hijacked by Brits looking for a boozy week or two. I get the impression that the concern has become so high about these places, that the media are sanctioning these programs to try and stop the madness. You may be asking, "What sort of madness?" ... And I shall tell you.
Examples from yesterday's programme included a young girl, aged 19, who had somehow managed to climb on top of a 15ft high DJ booth, whilst completely intoxicated, and fell, breaking her back. Another chap, had slipped on a curb outside a bar on the strip and either severely sprained or broke his ankle, (we never find out the extent of the damage). You might be thinking, "not THAT extreme", but after having a huge cast put on it, and given crutches, he then went back out and continued to party. Just walking around on a possible broken ankle, completely oblivious to the damage he might be causing it. Another "lad" had got into a fight with his 'friends' in his hotel room, and turned up at a Kavos clinic absolutely covered in his own blood and with a lacerated finger. He had to have a skin graft (I think), and if that didn't work, an amputation. He was a builder. So, no finger equals no work back home.
Now, you might be thinking, "Well, with the exception of the DJ booth incident, these things can easily happen in the UK". Yes, but the major difference between the UK and these party resorts is the level of alcohol that bars sell. In the UK, bars are not legally allowed to sell drinks that include more than a double measure of spirit. The maximum you can order is a "double" and more often than not, the price of those escalate quite a bit. I once paid £8 for a double. In Kavos, there is a drink being sold that includes TEN different spirits, all mixed together in a pint glass. Looking past the fact that something like that could genuinely kill someone, they are selling these drinks for no more than 3 euros. 3 EUROS! I nearly choked on my own drink when I heard that, yet ordinary people are going up to bars and ordering 2 or 3 of them at once. It was simply staggering...
Having been in a situation myself where I have had too much to drink, I can tell you that the results are not nice. But young Brits are putting themselves in immense danger by being abroad and completely ruined. In Magaluf, there are women walking around on the streets just stealing drunk people's money. Praying on the vulnerability of the intoxicated. Doesn't that scare anyone off? Doesn't anyone ask, "Oooh maybe we should go somewhere else?" ... It is quite incredible how far people stretch the realms of reality and end up in a world of complete lunacy. These places are not safe. Whichever way you look at it, even if you take it easy, it is quite possible that you will end up caught in the middle of a huge fight on the street, simply because of the quantity of them taking place. Yes, there are Police, but they are so stretched, dealing with incidents all over the island, it is almost impossible to control. It has got out of hand. It has reached the point, where the locals of these islands absolutely dread the Summer because they get completely overrun by Brits hijacking it and nearly running it into the ground. That's not fair surely?
The impact that these "amazing" Summer holidays have on the locals is profound. Not only does it cost them millions of pounds every Summer, some of the clearing up they have to do on the morning after the night before is ludicrous. Stacy Dooley spent a day helping the cleaning staff in a hotel and some of the mess they had to clean up was nothing short of rank. Vomit, condoms, pubic hair, even sperm on the windows. How inconsiderate do humans have to be to leave THAT kind of mess for strangers to clean up? Do they not care? This isn't an isolated incident. Out on the streets, cleaners have to clean up thousands of bottles and cups, dropped food, more vomit because people cannot handle the drink that is being offered so cheaply to them, pools of blood from the fights that occurred and other outrageous things. You might think I'm exaggerating, but having seen these two programs, I can tell you, I am not. It looked like the apocolypse.
I've had some quality nights out in my time, and haven't felt the need to travel abroad to have them. In the UK, we have controls and laws to at least try and stop people creating danger for themselves and others. A quote I heard from Magaluf was simply, "There are no rules". If I went to a resort with no rules, I would spend the whole time terrified of being jumped on and looking over my shoulder making sure there was no one following me. Even if I did make it inside a bar or a club, I would end up drinking horrific mixtures of drink and pressured into the "games" I haven't even mentioned. What happens to the people who can't handle their drink very well? How much money are people losing to the thieves I mentioned? How much money are people paying to be needlessly treated in hospital?
I've always wondered what these islands are like. People come back from them claiming they've had the times of their lives, and yes, they probably have. But I could never risk being one of the few people who come back without a wallet, a limb or even in some cases, their existence. What I've seen from these programs just reaffirms my thoughts that these places are simply places of hysteria, senselessness and idiocy.
It's around this time of year where people start thinking about booking a Summer holiday. If you're thinking of going to one of these places, be safe. Don't come back in a bodybag.
A couple of weeks ago, I was watching another documentary, narrated by a girl called Stacey Dooley, entitled 'The Truth About Magaluf', which was a similar sort of programme to the one I watched last night. It allowed Miss Dooley to see behind the scenes of the madness of "Shagaluf", and opened my eyes into the jobs that people have there, and the impact on the locals as the island is hijacked by Brits looking for a boozy week or two. I get the impression that the concern has become so high about these places, that the media are sanctioning these programs to try and stop the madness. You may be asking, "What sort of madness?" ... And I shall tell you.
Examples from yesterday's programme included a young girl, aged 19, who had somehow managed to climb on top of a 15ft high DJ booth, whilst completely intoxicated, and fell, breaking her back. Another chap, had slipped on a curb outside a bar on the strip and either severely sprained or broke his ankle, (we never find out the extent of the damage). You might be thinking, "not THAT extreme", but after having a huge cast put on it, and given crutches, he then went back out and continued to party. Just walking around on a possible broken ankle, completely oblivious to the damage he might be causing it. Another "lad" had got into a fight with his 'friends' in his hotel room, and turned up at a Kavos clinic absolutely covered in his own blood and with a lacerated finger. He had to have a skin graft (I think), and if that didn't work, an amputation. He was a builder. So, no finger equals no work back home.
Now, you might be thinking, "Well, with the exception of the DJ booth incident, these things can easily happen in the UK". Yes, but the major difference between the UK and these party resorts is the level of alcohol that bars sell. In the UK, bars are not legally allowed to sell drinks that include more than a double measure of spirit. The maximum you can order is a "double" and more often than not, the price of those escalate quite a bit. I once paid £8 for a double. In Kavos, there is a drink being sold that includes TEN different spirits, all mixed together in a pint glass. Looking past the fact that something like that could genuinely kill someone, they are selling these drinks for no more than 3 euros. 3 EUROS! I nearly choked on my own drink when I heard that, yet ordinary people are going up to bars and ordering 2 or 3 of them at once. It was simply staggering...
Having been in a situation myself where I have had too much to drink, I can tell you that the results are not nice. But young Brits are putting themselves in immense danger by being abroad and completely ruined. In Magaluf, there are women walking around on the streets just stealing drunk people's money. Praying on the vulnerability of the intoxicated. Doesn't that scare anyone off? Doesn't anyone ask, "Oooh maybe we should go somewhere else?" ... It is quite incredible how far people stretch the realms of reality and end up in a world of complete lunacy. These places are not safe. Whichever way you look at it, even if you take it easy, it is quite possible that you will end up caught in the middle of a huge fight on the street, simply because of the quantity of them taking place. Yes, there are Police, but they are so stretched, dealing with incidents all over the island, it is almost impossible to control. It has got out of hand. It has reached the point, where the locals of these islands absolutely dread the Summer because they get completely overrun by Brits hijacking it and nearly running it into the ground. That's not fair surely?
The impact that these "amazing" Summer holidays have on the locals is profound. Not only does it cost them millions of pounds every Summer, some of the clearing up they have to do on the morning after the night before is ludicrous. Stacy Dooley spent a day helping the cleaning staff in a hotel and some of the mess they had to clean up was nothing short of rank. Vomit, condoms, pubic hair, even sperm on the windows. How inconsiderate do humans have to be to leave THAT kind of mess for strangers to clean up? Do they not care? This isn't an isolated incident. Out on the streets, cleaners have to clean up thousands of bottles and cups, dropped food, more vomit because people cannot handle the drink that is being offered so cheaply to them, pools of blood from the fights that occurred and other outrageous things. You might think I'm exaggerating, but having seen these two programs, I can tell you, I am not. It looked like the apocolypse.
I've had some quality nights out in my time, and haven't felt the need to travel abroad to have them. In the UK, we have controls and laws to at least try and stop people creating danger for themselves and others. A quote I heard from Magaluf was simply, "There are no rules". If I went to a resort with no rules, I would spend the whole time terrified of being jumped on and looking over my shoulder making sure there was no one following me. Even if I did make it inside a bar or a club, I would end up drinking horrific mixtures of drink and pressured into the "games" I haven't even mentioned. What happens to the people who can't handle their drink very well? How much money are people losing to the thieves I mentioned? How much money are people paying to be needlessly treated in hospital?
I've always wondered what these islands are like. People come back from them claiming they've had the times of their lives, and yes, they probably have. But I could never risk being one of the few people who come back without a wallet, a limb or even in some cases, their existence. What I've seen from these programs just reaffirms my thoughts that these places are simply places of hysteria, senselessness and idiocy.
It's around this time of year where people start thinking about booking a Summer holiday. If you're thinking of going to one of these places, be safe. Don't come back in a bodybag.
Saturday 12 January 2013
The Next JK Rowling
This new life of mine is going quite well at the moment. I've stuck to the plans, and somehow, my life has taken a significant upward turn. What's more, I believe that this upward turn will not be followed by a downward one if I stick at it. It's only been 10 days, but each of those 10 days has been filled completely with activity and brimming with confidence. Sleeping at the right times, waking up at the right times, a mixture of relaxation and activity and no alcohol! That has caught many people by surprise... Many people think I'm joking when I say I no longer drink, until I tell them I really am giving up completely. To some people, an image of me without a Jack Daniels and coke in my hand is as incomplete as Big Ben without the clock. It's been an interesting 10 days for sure. There have even been sprinklings of karma involved, as I have got a promotion at work. Something tells me this is a reward for beginning this new life. Something else tells me there is no such thing as karma.
One aspect of this new life I haven't really succeeded at so far however is this "writing a book" idea. Again, I know its only been 10 days in, but too quickly I have sunk into autobiographical mode. I've been writing about myself for so long, that I drift into incorporating too much of my own life into what is supposed to be a fictional story. The primary requisite for a writer is originality. Building ideas from scratch, conceiving plots from your imagination. Not writing a fictional story that's based on true events. Having mucked about with a few plot ideas, the only thing that screamed out at me was, "All this is just about you isn't it?" And it isn't as if I can just ask others for their opinions on what to write about. I can't expect others to supply me with ideas because then the result will not be uniquely mine. Someone might well provide me with a great-sounding idea on a story, but then how am I supposed to develop plots and characters if they are not my plots and characters? I am having immense difficulty in letting my imagination run free, feeling the need to reign it in and not let it get out of control. I know I have some writing ability, and others have said so aswell, but I'm beginning to think that fictional writing isn't really my forte. I do not have an active enough imagination or enough ... "joie de vivre" to successfully build and write a story that isn't based on myself. One of my aims in writing this was to make it a story of accomplishment with a happy ending, but having drifted into writing about myself too much, I have pretty much devised characters and plots that are completely the opposite, for it is all I know. Having written negatively of myself for a few years now, I am trapped in a habit of writing in a contravening manner.
Something else I noticed a couple of days ago aswell, whilst writing a blog post on a completely different matter, is that I have a tendency on going off on a huge tangent when I'm in full flow. I become a bit abstract which, in a story, could be deemed irritating. I might well be good at describing events that have happened or in my own head, but the imagination isn't sufficiently there. I'm not going to delete all the ideas I've made, for something may well come of them, but I'm not entirely confident its going to work, which is a shame.
But hey ho, never mind. Things are on the up, and I don't want to let this get me down. It is a small aspect of an ever-changing life, and there are plenty of things to be cheerful about right now. Long may this continue.
One aspect of this new life I haven't really succeeded at so far however is this "writing a book" idea. Again, I know its only been 10 days in, but too quickly I have sunk into autobiographical mode. I've been writing about myself for so long, that I drift into incorporating too much of my own life into what is supposed to be a fictional story. The primary requisite for a writer is originality. Building ideas from scratch, conceiving plots from your imagination. Not writing a fictional story that's based on true events. Having mucked about with a few plot ideas, the only thing that screamed out at me was, "All this is just about you isn't it?" And it isn't as if I can just ask others for their opinions on what to write about. I can't expect others to supply me with ideas because then the result will not be uniquely mine. Someone might well provide me with a great-sounding idea on a story, but then how am I supposed to develop plots and characters if they are not my plots and characters? I am having immense difficulty in letting my imagination run free, feeling the need to reign it in and not let it get out of control. I know I have some writing ability, and others have said so aswell, but I'm beginning to think that fictional writing isn't really my forte. I do not have an active enough imagination or enough ... "joie de vivre" to successfully build and write a story that isn't based on myself. One of my aims in writing this was to make it a story of accomplishment with a happy ending, but having drifted into writing about myself too much, I have pretty much devised characters and plots that are completely the opposite, for it is all I know. Having written negatively of myself for a few years now, I am trapped in a habit of writing in a contravening manner.
Something else I noticed a couple of days ago aswell, whilst writing a blog post on a completely different matter, is that I have a tendency on going off on a huge tangent when I'm in full flow. I become a bit abstract which, in a story, could be deemed irritating. I might well be good at describing events that have happened or in my own head, but the imagination isn't sufficiently there. I'm not going to delete all the ideas I've made, for something may well come of them, but I'm not entirely confident its going to work, which is a shame.
But hey ho, never mind. Things are on the up, and I don't want to let this get me down. It is a small aspect of an ever-changing life, and there are plenty of things to be cheerful about right now. Long may this continue.
Wednesday 9 January 2013
What Has Happened to Football?
I think it's fair to say the sport of football isn't what it used to be for me. Yes, I still take an interest in the destination of the Premier League title, occasionally tuning in to Match of the Day and regularly expressing an opinion, as I tend to, on Twitter on the topic of the day. But in the past couple of years, my own personal experiences aside, the game has slipped into a decline. A dangerous slide towards the pits of complete nonsense and total hypocrisy. As well as this, I have watched a lot of local football recently, on the parks of Bedford or small grounds, and the behaviour and attitude of everyone involved in the game has just disintegrated into madness.
Beginning with professional football, and the players. It seems they are both the figures of Gods or anti-Christs, depending on team preference. A clear example of such a player recently is Luis Suarez. He has had a tough time since moving to Liverpool in January 2011. Admittedly, some of the trouble that has come his way has been his own fault, but it seems the man can do nothing to rid him of the tag he has picked up. Even if he does well, or does something honest, (which he has done), football fans who don't support Liverpool ridicule him anyway, claiming he is a racist and a cheat regardless. In the mad world of professional football, it is very, very difficult to rebuild a broken reputation. Fans do not forgive and forget, when maybe they should do. The latest scandal that has materialised from the screwball career of Suarez is an "incident" in the FA Cup match vs Mansfield.
No, I have not seen it, but apparently, he handballed it en route to a Liverpool goal. Then celebrated by kissing his wrist, therefore implying that he was proud of using his hand to score. Looking past the fact that no player, regardless of popularity, owns up to a possible offence, I cannot tell you how presumptious it is to suggest that Suarez knew what he was doing and wanted to provoke people. He kissed his wrist, because he has his daughter's name tattoed on it. He kisses his wrist or his finger - that has his wedding ring on - after EVERY goal he scores, and correct me if I'm wrong, but he doesn't handball it for every goal he scores does he? So can someone explain to me WHY the British footballing public lambast him from every angle for that? And then have the absolute cheek to either "not notice" or claim its perfectly alright, when a player does a similar thing for the team they support? The hypocrisy of football at its horrible heights. It's a similar situation when it comes to diving. It's a horrible trait that has unfortunately become a part of our game, but once again the hypocrisy of football fans comes to the fore in a very typical example from North London. Arsenal fans (aswell as others) have been complaining for a very long time at Gareth Bale's tendency to fall over for no reason, but all of a sudden, when Santi Cazorla (Arsenal attacking midfielder) does exactly the same thing, its suddenly fine? Is it just me that thinks that is complete and utter nonsense? Arsenal fans come up with things like, "Well, he did touch him", (which he didn't!) and then brush it under the carpet. The week after, Gareth Bale of Totteham dives, and he should be banned for 3 matches? Sorry, what? I see examples of this hypocrisy and complete bias week in, week out and it drives me up the wall. It's all very well supporting your team, but I just wish people would do so without making themselves look like tools.
I'm not saying all football fans are like this. But the majority most definitely are. And it blights what should be a fantastic field for discussion and debate.
We then come to managers. Now, I believe Sir Alex Ferguson is one of the greatest football managers of all time. His record is unbelievable, matched with his loyalty and tactical nouse. But my God, he is one of the most hypocritical people I've ever had to listen to. For years, he has criticised referees performances, blamed managers for playing mind games or deploying certain tactics, and then goes and does EXACTLY the same himself. One week, he is criticising the refereeing performance and the week after, he is having a pop at his opposition manager for ... criticising the referee. Again. What the actual f**k? That's like me going to work and being angry at my colleague for providing wrong information to a customer and then wrongly providing the very same information to another customer myself. How can people accept that this is somehow correct? It's not just Sir Alex either. It seems to be a common trend amongst managers, with a couple of notable exceptions, and it does nothing to help the image of football as a whole.
Now we come to local football. The stuff we see week in, week out on park pitches and I'm afraid, this is where the game falls down. Despite pledges from the FA to improve this, that and the other when it comes to the running of grassroots, it seems in fact that its being dragged deeper into the turf of insanity. Even before a ball has been kicked, teams are forced to fork out over £80 for every home game to pay for a sub-standard pitch, cold and dank changing rooms and not forgetting the referee's fee on top. It is unbelievable how expensive it is to play football on a Sunday morning, bearing in mind that sometimes you end up playing a team full of drunks. The value for money just isn't there at all, and it is incredible how people put up with the rocketing costs of running a football side.
There are 3 main problems with grassroots football:
1) The players. Predominantly, football is still a working-class sport. Regardless of what people say, the sport of football always has and always will be the sport of choice for people of a working-class nature. Without wanting to generalise too much, working-class people tend to be the same people who class themselves as "lads", "blokes" or "proper men", who swear at every given opportunity. When it comes to the competitive nature of football then, the use of swear words are as common as the penny. In public areas, this is not acceptable. In any other part of life, people would not accept such language and behaviour, so why do people accept it on public football pitches? Even the Laws of the Game has acknowledged and accepted that foul language is used, so have removed it as an offence. This is wrong. That is before you get to the abuse that is circled around the football pitch, from players to other players, from players to referees and even players to linesmen who are most probably volunteering their time at no cost.
2) Controversial of me given my background but, the referees. This isn't the case across the board by any means, but I have recognised that there are too many referees who simply do not care about the state of the games they take control of. There are too many active referees who do not TRY. Because the demand for referees is so high, the authorities will accept anyone and everyone to officiate football matches, and this considerably reduces the standard at which games are officiated at. Every Sunday, I see men of 70-75 years old, standing in the centre circles, making nonsensical decisions and winding everyone up. No one enjoys a football match when the official seems as if he's trying to ruin it for everyone else. Yes, his decisions are most likely to be questioned, for unfortunately, this is football - but to witness a man defend his decisions when he is making them from 50 or 60 yards away just makes no sense. This point also stands for the "mini-Hitlers". Last Sunday, I was watching a match on Sunday morning that was taken charge by a man, (probably in his mid-late 40s), actively attempting to wind players up by making outrageous decisions on the football pitch. His decisions were that laughable, both teams were just laughing at him by the end. I was stood on the sidelines, questioning what on Earth has happened to "the beautiful game" when people have spent a large amount of money to be wound up something fierce and participate in an activity that is ruined by people either incapable of controlling the situation, or ruining it on purpose. It makes literally no sense to me.
3) The authorities. In the past few years, county FA's have introduced ridiculous rules that wind clubs up even more. Such as banning the appeal process for dismissals. If a player got sent off, in the past, he had the right to appeal the sending off and there would be a hearing with the referee present. I attended a couple myself, one of which was a joke and the other, a genuine mistake was made and I went along and admitted it, and the 18 year old I sent off was free to play. Now? If a player is sent off, that is it. He is banned. And if there are referees out there who fit into the "mini-Hitler" category I mentioned in Point 2, these red cards can sometimes be ridiculous. And they have no choice but to accept being banned, because the county FA's have banned the grassroots footballing equivalent of the legal process.
Now, consider this. Bear in mind, you can't appeal a red card. The punishments you see in the Premier League range from 1 game for a double yellow card to 3 games for cases of violent conduct. In some leagues at grassroots level, cases of violent conduct are greeted with bans of up to a whole year. 1 whole YEAR of being banned! Maybe if it was a serious case of violent conduct, you could back that sort of punishment up, but what if the player you allegedly hit had feigned the injury just to get you sent off? Imagine how you'd feel if you ended up being banned for a year for something you didn't do, without the right to appeal? It's turning into a one-sided sporting authoritarian relationship...
I'd go as far to say that the sport of football, at all levels, is becoming a joke. I haven't even mentioned the racism that is cropping up more and more often, the abuse that referees suffer at all levels, the spiralling costs of going to watch your favourite team play in difficult economic times and a whole host of other problems that this sport has. I'm pleased I got out of it completely when I did.
It is called "the beautiful game", because once, it was exactly that. But in recent years, it has become ugly. And I don't like it.
Beginning with professional football, and the players. It seems they are both the figures of Gods or anti-Christs, depending on team preference. A clear example of such a player recently is Luis Suarez. He has had a tough time since moving to Liverpool in January 2011. Admittedly, some of the trouble that has come his way has been his own fault, but it seems the man can do nothing to rid him of the tag he has picked up. Even if he does well, or does something honest, (which he has done), football fans who don't support Liverpool ridicule him anyway, claiming he is a racist and a cheat regardless. In the mad world of professional football, it is very, very difficult to rebuild a broken reputation. Fans do not forgive and forget, when maybe they should do. The latest scandal that has materialised from the screwball career of Suarez is an "incident" in the FA Cup match vs Mansfield.
No, I have not seen it, but apparently, he handballed it en route to a Liverpool goal. Then celebrated by kissing his wrist, therefore implying that he was proud of using his hand to score. Looking past the fact that no player, regardless of popularity, owns up to a possible offence, I cannot tell you how presumptious it is to suggest that Suarez knew what he was doing and wanted to provoke people. He kissed his wrist, because he has his daughter's name tattoed on it. He kisses his wrist or his finger - that has his wedding ring on - after EVERY goal he scores, and correct me if I'm wrong, but he doesn't handball it for every goal he scores does he? So can someone explain to me WHY the British footballing public lambast him from every angle for that? And then have the absolute cheek to either "not notice" or claim its perfectly alright, when a player does a similar thing for the team they support? The hypocrisy of football at its horrible heights. It's a similar situation when it comes to diving. It's a horrible trait that has unfortunately become a part of our game, but once again the hypocrisy of football fans comes to the fore in a very typical example from North London. Arsenal fans (aswell as others) have been complaining for a very long time at Gareth Bale's tendency to fall over for no reason, but all of a sudden, when Santi Cazorla (Arsenal attacking midfielder) does exactly the same thing, its suddenly fine? Is it just me that thinks that is complete and utter nonsense? Arsenal fans come up with things like, "Well, he did touch him", (which he didn't!) and then brush it under the carpet. The week after, Gareth Bale of Totteham dives, and he should be banned for 3 matches? Sorry, what? I see examples of this hypocrisy and complete bias week in, week out and it drives me up the wall. It's all very well supporting your team, but I just wish people would do so without making themselves look like tools.
I'm not saying all football fans are like this. But the majority most definitely are. And it blights what should be a fantastic field for discussion and debate.
We then come to managers. Now, I believe Sir Alex Ferguson is one of the greatest football managers of all time. His record is unbelievable, matched with his loyalty and tactical nouse. But my God, he is one of the most hypocritical people I've ever had to listen to. For years, he has criticised referees performances, blamed managers for playing mind games or deploying certain tactics, and then goes and does EXACTLY the same himself. One week, he is criticising the refereeing performance and the week after, he is having a pop at his opposition manager for ... criticising the referee. Again. What the actual f**k? That's like me going to work and being angry at my colleague for providing wrong information to a customer and then wrongly providing the very same information to another customer myself. How can people accept that this is somehow correct? It's not just Sir Alex either. It seems to be a common trend amongst managers, with a couple of notable exceptions, and it does nothing to help the image of football as a whole.
Now we come to local football. The stuff we see week in, week out on park pitches and I'm afraid, this is where the game falls down. Despite pledges from the FA to improve this, that and the other when it comes to the running of grassroots, it seems in fact that its being dragged deeper into the turf of insanity. Even before a ball has been kicked, teams are forced to fork out over £80 for every home game to pay for a sub-standard pitch, cold and dank changing rooms and not forgetting the referee's fee on top. It is unbelievable how expensive it is to play football on a Sunday morning, bearing in mind that sometimes you end up playing a team full of drunks. The value for money just isn't there at all, and it is incredible how people put up with the rocketing costs of running a football side.
There are 3 main problems with grassroots football:
1) The players. Predominantly, football is still a working-class sport. Regardless of what people say, the sport of football always has and always will be the sport of choice for people of a working-class nature. Without wanting to generalise too much, working-class people tend to be the same people who class themselves as "lads", "blokes" or "proper men", who swear at every given opportunity. When it comes to the competitive nature of football then, the use of swear words are as common as the penny. In public areas, this is not acceptable. In any other part of life, people would not accept such language and behaviour, so why do people accept it on public football pitches? Even the Laws of the Game has acknowledged and accepted that foul language is used, so have removed it as an offence. This is wrong. That is before you get to the abuse that is circled around the football pitch, from players to other players, from players to referees and even players to linesmen who are most probably volunteering their time at no cost.
2) Controversial of me given my background but, the referees. This isn't the case across the board by any means, but I have recognised that there are too many referees who simply do not care about the state of the games they take control of. There are too many active referees who do not TRY. Because the demand for referees is so high, the authorities will accept anyone and everyone to officiate football matches, and this considerably reduces the standard at which games are officiated at. Every Sunday, I see men of 70-75 years old, standing in the centre circles, making nonsensical decisions and winding everyone up. No one enjoys a football match when the official seems as if he's trying to ruin it for everyone else. Yes, his decisions are most likely to be questioned, for unfortunately, this is football - but to witness a man defend his decisions when he is making them from 50 or 60 yards away just makes no sense. This point also stands for the "mini-Hitlers". Last Sunday, I was watching a match on Sunday morning that was taken charge by a man, (probably in his mid-late 40s), actively attempting to wind players up by making outrageous decisions on the football pitch. His decisions were that laughable, both teams were just laughing at him by the end. I was stood on the sidelines, questioning what on Earth has happened to "the beautiful game" when people have spent a large amount of money to be wound up something fierce and participate in an activity that is ruined by people either incapable of controlling the situation, or ruining it on purpose. It makes literally no sense to me.
3) The authorities. In the past few years, county FA's have introduced ridiculous rules that wind clubs up even more. Such as banning the appeal process for dismissals. If a player got sent off, in the past, he had the right to appeal the sending off and there would be a hearing with the referee present. I attended a couple myself, one of which was a joke and the other, a genuine mistake was made and I went along and admitted it, and the 18 year old I sent off was free to play. Now? If a player is sent off, that is it. He is banned. And if there are referees out there who fit into the "mini-Hitler" category I mentioned in Point 2, these red cards can sometimes be ridiculous. And they have no choice but to accept being banned, because the county FA's have banned the grassroots footballing equivalent of the legal process.
Now, consider this. Bear in mind, you can't appeal a red card. The punishments you see in the Premier League range from 1 game for a double yellow card to 3 games for cases of violent conduct. In some leagues at grassroots level, cases of violent conduct are greeted with bans of up to a whole year. 1 whole YEAR of being banned! Maybe if it was a serious case of violent conduct, you could back that sort of punishment up, but what if the player you allegedly hit had feigned the injury just to get you sent off? Imagine how you'd feel if you ended up being banned for a year for something you didn't do, without the right to appeal? It's turning into a one-sided sporting authoritarian relationship...
I'd go as far to say that the sport of football, at all levels, is becoming a joke. I haven't even mentioned the racism that is cropping up more and more often, the abuse that referees suffer at all levels, the spiralling costs of going to watch your favourite team play in difficult economic times and a whole host of other problems that this sport has. I'm pleased I got out of it completely when I did.
It is called "the beautiful game", because once, it was exactly that. But in recent years, it has become ugly. And I don't like it.
Sunday 6 January 2013
2013 - New Year, New Me?
Happy New Year!
On New Years Eve, I saw a lot of the phrase 'New Year, New Me'. I then saw a lot of people complaining about the people saying that, so much so, that it got a bit farcical. You had people complaining about people complaining about being positive and it all got a bit silly. My own view was just to carry on, ignore the bad spots and relish the good, but it didn't quite work out the way I wanted or expected.
Something happened. I won't be telling you what happened, but in the early hours of New Years Day, something did. Something big. Something so big, it has meant I now have little choice but to change my life. Everything about it. Every little thing. From waking up, what I eat and more importantly, drink, my fitness and wellbeing and how I go about every single aspect of my life. Life is going to be different from now on, and unlike the other times I have tried this, I really am quite determined to do it. I owe it to everyone who have had to put up with my swings for years now. But, more importantly, I owe it to myself. I just cannot carry on the way I was, even if I was okay for the Summer months. It got more and more dangerous, more extreme and much more alarming. Just leaving things to build up. It's the habit of a lifetime, that I must change. So I have changed. I have no choice in the matter anymore. And this time, its permanent.
I know we've been here before. After "that night" in Manchester. After the meltdown my school exams and the stress of my first job bought. Even as recent as Christmas, I vowed I would change. But what happened on New Years Day changed everything. It was very real. Very scary. I need to get on with it though. No point looking backwards and stewing on it, but move forward and look to the future. But not too far ahead. Very fine lines. And I appreciate I'm being rather abstract and vague, but I wanted to let a few feelings out without actually saying what caused this latest vow of change.
What have I changed? Sleep has always been extremely difficult for me, but now I plan to go to sleep early EVERY DAY and wake up at 8am EVERY DAY. No excuses. No compromise. No option. It must be done. I think it's fair to say I like a tipple every once in a while, but alcohol has been the root cause of most of my "meltdowns" so no more of that. None at all. Not one drop. I believe they call it "tee total". I cannot risk falling away into a state of derision because of going overboard, however much I think I will "take it easy" on a night out. Alcohol is not the stimulant I once thought it was, but instead, a depressant. With me, it is simply too dangerous to drink. I cannot trust myself to do it properly, so I have left myself with little choice but to pack it in altogether. One thing, it will save my health, and save me from meltdown, but I'm sure my bank balance will also reap the benefits. I heard the sigh of relief from it anyway! Thirdly: fitness. I had planned to get up and going regardless of events anyway because I wanted to get fitter for the cricket season, something I didn't do last year and didn't do as well as I wanted because of it. This year, I have another excuse to run my socks off, and apparently, whilst doing exercise, the brain releases something called "endorphins", which sound like happy little things! And lastly, as simple and as basic as it sounds, I will talk. And believe it or not, this is the challenge that I am most nervous about. I still do not understand the benefits of "talking through problems". I cannot get my head around it. But I plan to do it regardless and see what happens.
They all sound like the most basic of things, but they were things I simply weren't doing. I'd wake up at midday, go to work for a few hours, come home and sit on the computer until midnight and go back to sleep. I found myself monumentally struggling on the days I do have a full day at work and in turn, that made me feel viciously tired, which in turn made me feel terrible. It's that vicious cycle that I thought was all that life had to offer. I do need a lot of sleep, that is something that will not change, but to combat that, I simply need to go to bed earlier. None of this "staring at the Twitter timeline" curse that I was stuck on. Writing it down, it looks so, so simple. But for me, it wasn't. It still isn't in many ways, but I need to stick with it and hope it'll happen. It better happen anyway...
And for the times I do find myself hunting for things to do, to fill these extra hours I've discovered, I have this exercise pledge to fulfil, but also my original "resolution", if you like, was to start writing a book. So many people have commended me on my writing ability, suggesting a career path in journalism or to write for magazines, but all of those require sacrifice. They all require a commitment that I can't make. At least with writing a book, I can take as long as I like, under my own terms, at the pace I want and with no one putting pressure on me to do it quickly. This sounds like the best idea to utilise this ability I've stumbled upon!
So yeah. It's been a very strange week. I can almost see you lot thinking, "There is no way he's going to live without Mr. Jack Daniels", but at the moment, that guy is my mortal enemy. After the Christmas and New Year festivities, no one really wants to go "out on the town" anyway, but I imagine when Summer comes along and those drunken Summer nights that have provided so many GOOD memories happen, I might well find it extremely difficult. And I may well crack. Ok, I'll stop... I'm starting to sound like I should be at an AA meeting!
This is a new year, and yes, it is a new me. But just as many people have already broken their new years resolution, I have just, at this very moment, realised that this isn't a new years resolution.
This is a new life resolution.
On New Years Eve, I saw a lot of the phrase 'New Year, New Me'. I then saw a lot of people complaining about the people saying that, so much so, that it got a bit farcical. You had people complaining about people complaining about being positive and it all got a bit silly. My own view was just to carry on, ignore the bad spots and relish the good, but it didn't quite work out the way I wanted or expected.
Something happened. I won't be telling you what happened, but in the early hours of New Years Day, something did. Something big. Something so big, it has meant I now have little choice but to change my life. Everything about it. Every little thing. From waking up, what I eat and more importantly, drink, my fitness and wellbeing and how I go about every single aspect of my life. Life is going to be different from now on, and unlike the other times I have tried this, I really am quite determined to do it. I owe it to everyone who have had to put up with my swings for years now. But, more importantly, I owe it to myself. I just cannot carry on the way I was, even if I was okay for the Summer months. It got more and more dangerous, more extreme and much more alarming. Just leaving things to build up. It's the habit of a lifetime, that I must change. So I have changed. I have no choice in the matter anymore. And this time, its permanent.
I know we've been here before. After "that night" in Manchester. After the meltdown my school exams and the stress of my first job bought. Even as recent as Christmas, I vowed I would change. But what happened on New Years Day changed everything. It was very real. Very scary. I need to get on with it though. No point looking backwards and stewing on it, but move forward and look to the future. But not too far ahead. Very fine lines. And I appreciate I'm being rather abstract and vague, but I wanted to let a few feelings out without actually saying what caused this latest vow of change.
What have I changed? Sleep has always been extremely difficult for me, but now I plan to go to sleep early EVERY DAY and wake up at 8am EVERY DAY. No excuses. No compromise. No option. It must be done. I think it's fair to say I like a tipple every once in a while, but alcohol has been the root cause of most of my "meltdowns" so no more of that. None at all. Not one drop. I believe they call it "tee total". I cannot risk falling away into a state of derision because of going overboard, however much I think I will "take it easy" on a night out. Alcohol is not the stimulant I once thought it was, but instead, a depressant. With me, it is simply too dangerous to drink. I cannot trust myself to do it properly, so I have left myself with little choice but to pack it in altogether. One thing, it will save my health, and save me from meltdown, but I'm sure my bank balance will also reap the benefits. I heard the sigh of relief from it anyway! Thirdly: fitness. I had planned to get up and going regardless of events anyway because I wanted to get fitter for the cricket season, something I didn't do last year and didn't do as well as I wanted because of it. This year, I have another excuse to run my socks off, and apparently, whilst doing exercise, the brain releases something called "endorphins", which sound like happy little things! And lastly, as simple and as basic as it sounds, I will talk. And believe it or not, this is the challenge that I am most nervous about. I still do not understand the benefits of "talking through problems". I cannot get my head around it. But I plan to do it regardless and see what happens.
They all sound like the most basic of things, but they were things I simply weren't doing. I'd wake up at midday, go to work for a few hours, come home and sit on the computer until midnight and go back to sleep. I found myself monumentally struggling on the days I do have a full day at work and in turn, that made me feel viciously tired, which in turn made me feel terrible. It's that vicious cycle that I thought was all that life had to offer. I do need a lot of sleep, that is something that will not change, but to combat that, I simply need to go to bed earlier. None of this "staring at the Twitter timeline" curse that I was stuck on. Writing it down, it looks so, so simple. But for me, it wasn't. It still isn't in many ways, but I need to stick with it and hope it'll happen. It better happen anyway...
And for the times I do find myself hunting for things to do, to fill these extra hours I've discovered, I have this exercise pledge to fulfil, but also my original "resolution", if you like, was to start writing a book. So many people have commended me on my writing ability, suggesting a career path in journalism or to write for magazines, but all of those require sacrifice. They all require a commitment that I can't make. At least with writing a book, I can take as long as I like, under my own terms, at the pace I want and with no one putting pressure on me to do it quickly. This sounds like the best idea to utilise this ability I've stumbled upon!
So yeah. It's been a very strange week. I can almost see you lot thinking, "There is no way he's going to live without Mr. Jack Daniels", but at the moment, that guy is my mortal enemy. After the Christmas and New Year festivities, no one really wants to go "out on the town" anyway, but I imagine when Summer comes along and those drunken Summer nights that have provided so many GOOD memories happen, I might well find it extremely difficult. And I may well crack. Ok, I'll stop... I'm starting to sound like I should be at an AA meeting!
This is a new year, and yes, it is a new me. But just as many people have already broken their new years resolution, I have just, at this very moment, realised that this isn't a new years resolution.
This is a new life resolution.
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