Lines spoken at a sports desk, London
You got them photos from the tennis? Lovely, let's have a butcher's. Yes, that one there with Ivanovic at the moment of victory, the one where she looks like she's having an orgasm. That's our back-pager tomorrow. Fantastic. Actually, could you make an extra copy, for my own personal file, know what I mean? Good job that Russian munter lost. Look at those facking biceps. Looks like a facking geezer. No-one needs to see that while eating their breakfast on a Sunday morning, do they?
Can't wait for the Premier League to start again, I tell you. These Saturdays without footie, fackin' 'ell. Slow facking news day or what? I lost a mint on the Derby and all. That racing correspondent's out on his arse if he doesn't buck up his ideas. Tipped me a facking mule. Can'. Roll on August, eh, Bob? No more tennis, no more golf, just footie all the way. Proper sport, know what I mean?
'Oo the fack's watching Deal Or No Facking Deal? Gimme that remote. Christ on a stick, Noel bleedin' Edmonds, does my facking head in. The banker and the wanker, eh, Bob?...No? Suit yourself, then, tosser. Let's see what else is on...
...'ere Bob - there's footy on the Beeb. What the fack...European Championships? But it's June! The final was only a few weeks ago...yes it facking was, Bob, I should facking know - I was in Moscow, wasn't I?...oh yeah, the European Championships - fack me, are they on now? 'Oo's playing? Switzerland and the Czech Republic. Oh, for fack's sake. 'Oo gives a toss? Look at it. Fackin' 'ell. Hardly the Premiership, is it, eh?
Did we do any previews of this thing then, Bob?...too facking right, that all it deserves. I tell you, if we'd 'ad a proper manager, someone to show a bit of facking passion, know what I mean?, someone to slap those facking nancy boys around the place and show 'em who's boss, someone who knows how to give an all-important half-time team talk like a proper facking manager, instead of that ginger muppet can' McClaren, we'd facking stroll this competition. Look at the players we 'ave. 'Oo else in this tournament would get into this England team, eh? Okay, Ronaldo, I grant you. Of course Ronaldo would get in. And Cech, of course, best keeper in the world, he is, hands down, no facking argument. Apart from that, 'oo else would get in?...Exactly. We'd facking murder 'em.
We got any boys over there, wherever this thing is?...They're all at the Portuguese camp? Lahvely.
Fack me, I'm bored already. How long's this thing last, Bob?...You're facking joking. Well thank Christ Wimbledon starts soon. Just hope it's an Ivanovic-Sharapova final, eh? Take our minds off this bunch of garlic-munching, Toblerone-making, eastern, fascist, Nazi dago cants...Who'm I gonna support? 'Ooever's playing Spain. Racist bastards.
So am I to gather that we're not the only country with knuckleheaded reactionaries manning the sports desks?
Actually, to be fair, some of the best writing we see here comes from the sports pages.
Steve said it all, of course. I still can't get it out of my head that all Brits don't walk around spouting off passages from Shakespeare, even the sportswriters and celebrity tabloid journos.
OK, you are a real writer, right? You write for Irish TV, or maybe a magazine? If not, you should be doing something like that. I know all you Isles people are talented with words (see long-held ethnic generalization above), but you should have been at least blogging long ago.
That's very kind of you, Susan, but like the Ronaldo/Fergie post, it's all down to old-fashioned espionage; I paid a lot of money for these tapes and I merely transcribed (though if anyone asks you, you know nothing, right?).
There is some fine sports writing over here, though it's like anything really - there's a hell of a lot of crap to wade through to get to it.
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