11 Jun 2010

And Then It Started….

Well, it’s under way – the greatest footy spit-a-thon you could wish for. I see, or I’m late to the table again, that that tennis ball hitting person, Mr. Nadal, now has to spit at the beginning of all his matches. I can live with the bottle line up, the short pulling, the sorting of hair – but to spit on the base line? Wot’s that all about then? Is it some sort of territory marking? Why? Sorry, don’t get it at all.

Hay kids, I think I'm safe to say you can believe me on this one - spitting don’t make you really good at sport. Or nuffink else or that matter. And it don’t make you look really, really rock ‘ard neither. Or super cooool.

In fact, watch the footy and the spitty and see what utter pratts they look doing the spitty bitty. Don’t you reckon it makes them look small and sulky? Wot? No? You don't? Hayho, it's just me then....

Quote; Yiddish Proverb.

“Don't spit into the well - you might drink from it later.”

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