It’s 1.31pm on Sunday 18th July and I feel moved to commence a second narrative of the day. I’m unsure why I’ve chosen to pen this rare daily sequel; after all, as it stands I’ve nothing really to report.
Well, apart from nearly hacking the end of my thumb off with a cheese slicer while preparing a lunchtime butty. Consequently, this ordinarily none jeopardous act got delayed while I attempted to stem the blood flow.
With chez Strachan bereft of plasters and medical padding utilised to counter weeping wounds, I was forced to rely on two kitchen roll sheets to curb unrestricted ebbing of claret. These rolled absorbent paper layers, despite proving successful at eventually stemming the flow, so bulky my thumb looked as though it was wearing a Sikh turban.
I’m unsure about many things in this post-Brexit, COVID riddled world. However, I can confirm without fear of contradiction my thumb hasn’t converted to Sikhism. My digits are resolved at avoiding distractions such as pinning their colours to the mast of religions. They’ve far bigger priorities, such as confrontational pointing, undertaking nose decongestion and typing these monologues….. Not necessarily in that order of priority.
Anyhow, the thumb turban has long since been replaced by a plaster recently procure from a local store. I also purchased anti-bacterial hand wash for post nose decongestion cleansing. As I write, the blood’s stopped and my hooter’s airwaves are open. Also my hands are free of bacteria and smell of rose petals.
Ordinarily I strive to avoid courting controversy in these essays. However, I feel moved to comment about a social media post I’ve just read regarding the women’s Euro 2022 football tournament. The writer stating desires our nation would rally around England ladies team with similar euphoria afforded to the gents team during their recent nations finals.
The inference being anything short of equivalent nationwide excitement would tarnish those who’re indifferent to the whole clambake as less nationalistic, or misogynist…… Or indeed both.
As someone who’ll have absolutely no interest in watching any of the women’s European football championships, I take offence at that insinuation. After all, my indifference to women’s football isn’t through any misogynistic whim or lack of national pride. It’s simply, like watching the UK soap EastEnders or Formula 1 racing, I don’t like the product being broadcast.
The comments touted by the individual proffering I should bow at the temple of professional female footy need to understand my reasoning before judging. That is, my lack of interest in the product isn’t based on the fact matches are partaken by players with an extra ‘x’ chromosome to male footballers.
It’s like the writer stating “How dare you, Gary Strachan!…… How dare you not show the same commitment to watching EastEnders as you do to Netflix series!…… Now sort yourself out you prejudiced buffoon……. Incidentally, can I borrow your Carpenters CD?”
An accusation to which I’d firmly rebuff by claiming it’s my choice and I’ll defend my right to make that decision……. Just as those who watch and enjoy professional women’s football and EastEnders have every right to indulge their pastime preferences……. Oh, and no you can’t borrow my Carpenters CD, you judgemental t**t!
I suppose those advocating the fellas England team supporters should also join the fairer sexes entourage should be careful what they wish for. After all, are they suggesting the imbeciles who wreaked havoc on finals day (11th July) get an invite for the gig?
Anyhow, I’ll be damned if I’m going to have my integrity brought into question because I’m not as interested in the elite women’s game as I am with the men’s.
If anything, this ramming down your throat of female professional sport contributes towards my indifference towards watching their sporting frolics…… I wish no ill will towards women’s sport, I’d just appreciate my behaviour not been judged negatively for daring posit having zero interest in augmenting its viewing audience.