I know, most of you are sick of the cup filled with world football already and it’s only been going five days. I’m not sick of it. The kicky abouty stuff takes my mind off my current depression concerning my slow slow recuperation from my recent flare-up, distracts me from the distressing possibility that I may still not be well enough to go on holiday to America in a fortnight’s time.
So I enjoy the stupid people in the stupid studios talking stupid nonsense about a stupid game before a stupid ball is kicked. And I enjoy the stupid games. Especially when the holders of the cup of world football are beaten. And I enjoy the stupid people in the stupid studios talking stupid nonsense about a stupid game after the last ball has been kicked.
And then the cup of world football goes to bed for the evening and I am left alone with my sadness and my sorrow and my terrible anxieties and my fears and my physical pain.
Hope Wimbledon starts soon.