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- sport - I confess, oh Mancunia, of an unworthy wavering of belief; A defect in spirit, that manifested from a fear of the unknown, of foreign soil, of the Reebok north in Lancashire - that very fortress, which swallowed Liverpool two-nil, that held Boro, that saw off Watford, that humbled Spurs, and admitted not a single goal among the four. And did Bolton win! Blackburn fell, Newcastle yielded, Liverpool lost, Pompey crashed to them in their last four matches. Strong and tough, big and buff, they were third only behind United and CSKA London. Surely this would be a test for the staunchest Devil! In my weakness, my imperfect mind profaned a draw, and even the shining glories of Mancunia raised my ambitions not beyond a slender win, of furtively robbing the treasures of that realm. Oh Mancunia, the ineffable, forgive this wretched doubter, who goes in sackcloth upon his knees in penitence; For four months and four days will he replay the might of the Almighty in full flow in purifying meditation, a month and a day for each goal scored that sacred afternoon, blessed be it in the annals of English soccer. For the horns blew on the time of Fowler the false God, and the Angels below hailed the ascendancy of one of their own; No longer shall the waning light of the skies above command the blind respect of Man; A Prince among Devils, bearing upon hIS back the number of Magic, Octarine, hath verily spoken with both hIS feet, and it was this that hE sayeth: Why serve in heaven, when one can reign in Hell? The first seal was of Pestilence, the Horseman of Famine, black as the barren fields, hungry as a striker who has not tasted a goal for ten games; In his possession were a pair of scales, to measure the skill of defenders; And in the tenth minute the balance tipped, and he swung his left foot, and misery was unleashed upon the unbelievers. The second seal was of War, the Horseman of Conquest, white as the faces and shirts of the defeated, ruthless as a lord who wants ever more; He holds a bow and countenances a crown upon his brow, that lesser men may look upon him and stumble in fruitless tackling; Thus did Tal Ben Haim gift the ball to him, and thus did he rout the resisters with an arrow to the corner. The third seal was of Blood, the Horseman of Chaos, red as the stains that spread upon battlefields, deep as the faith of the soldiers to the badge; He wields a great sword, to hew all opposition, and scatter them like so many leaves; From his dark page he received his blade, and thrust it into an empty net with eight minutes to go. The final seal was of Death, the Horseman of Decay, pale as the unburied dead, colourless as a team completely overmatched; He bears a scythe to claim the spectres of the lost, severing their last attachment to this life; And hE was Rooney, and hE claimed his hat-trick, hammering the last nail into the coffins of the departed. ![]() And on the sixth day... Nike made Rooney And once that seal was broken the trumpets sounded, and the bowls of prawn sandwiches were hastily ingested, for all knew that hE had returned to this Earth; No broken metatarsal, no three-game suspension would deny hIM hIS rightful place; The Crown Prince of Devils had Come Again. So, Mancunia; Willst thou grant this pitiful devotee a stay of his sins, and purge from him the stain of wagering on CSKA London? Willst thou bestow upon him the temperance to forebear, such blasphemy as a defeat to FC Copenhagen? Oh, that and my Technorati Profile. Amanu. Next: Goin' A-Changin'
qwergo said... WAH CUTE STUFF! if u're gonna tag cute stuff might as well tag sex
gilbert said... hmm good idea! thanks ah :)
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