Posts tagged: me
I lay back on my bed and listened to the wolves screeching outside the window. They were fighting. I couldn’t hear everything they were saying but it was about money, and it was always about money with them. I closed my eyes and wondered why it was so important, but what the fuck did I know about money? I was only eight years old.
For once, I take a break from moaning about football and moan about television instead.
The second link tonight is for a piece I wrote about Benfica during the latter part of the ’90s.
One of the most prestigious clubs in the world were overrun by a crooked owner, a manager out of his depth, and seven very fortunate, if uninspiring British footballers.