Tempting FAte
by Quinn
“Fuck off Wigan, you fucking pie eating wankers, go and fuck off back to fucking Wigan”, he quipped. I was sat on the top deck of an idling bus after yesterday’s match, waiting for the convoy of Wigan coaches to drive past. A fellow City fan was holding court with a stunning piece of oratory; his pals cackled their encouragement.
He continued “Go on you fucking pie eaters, fuck off you fucking Wigan bastards”, an allusion, if memory serves, to a statement made by Raskolnikov in a discussion with Razumikhin in Dostoevsky’s epic Crime And Punishment, echoing the redemptive theme explored within that classic text.
Our hero concluded his soliloquy with a neat encapsulation of his thesis; “Fuck of to Wigan, you fucking pie eating knobheads”. The Wigan supporters, cocooned inside their air-conditioned coaches, were oblivious to the Swiftian genius on display. The final coach passed, followed by the accompanying police motorbikes, and then our bus moved off.
So far so good, but then – too soon – it was all over. The whole bus had been rapt, hanging upon every utterance of this ingenious wordsmith, but with the passing of the Wigan fans he fell silent. My fellow passengers exchanged anxious glances. Was that it? Would we hear anymore of this inspirational rhetoric? Would we ever hear the like again?
But our luck was in. The bus’s very own Algonquin Round Table began to discuss the imminent FA Cup quarter-final between City and West Ham, and our Dorothy Parker sprang back into life.
“Yeah, we’re fucking going to Cardiff, aren’t we…fucking gonna win the FA Cup this year…fucking brilliant…yeah, we’re fucking gonna fucking dick fucking West Ham on Monday…no fucking problem…gonna fucking batter them…fucking fuck the fucks.”
I paraphrase, of course, I cannot possibly do justice to his awesome talent. His speech made my spirits soar. We are going to Cardiff! To win the FA Cup! Get in there! I knew then that I would have to write a post in praise of this poetic giant.
One tiny reservation, though; whilst I admire great wit and literary ability I can also be a tad superstitious, as I think many football supporters are. On entering the sixth round of the FA Cup I think it is impossible not to start thinking of the final, but I tried hard not to. Even when I checked my diary to see what I was up to for the semis and the final I felt I was doing too much, like I was tempting fate and jinxing us to even think that far ahead, as if just imagining reaching the final would cut short any possibility that it could happen. I am but a mere mortal, though; no such concerns for our God-like orator, for such a seer. Not only does he have an extensive vocabulary but he is also suitably and impressively fearless in predicting the future.
Of course, greatness comes at a price, and if, by chance, the sage is wrong, if it should all goes pear shaped tomorrow and we get dumped out of the cup, all the plaudits will count for nothing. Having raised my hopes I will have that bit further to fall. My superstitious head will reassert itself, and I will know exactly who to blame.
The fucker.
Update 20/3/06. The fucker!
That said, my wife and I are in New York for the semi-finals, with my parents looking after the boy. As they would have undoubtedly wanted to attend the semi-final, that would have created a problem.
So thank you, Dean Ashton, Sun Jihai and my football bus compadre, for preventing a babysitting crisis.
The Obscurer 
Well, I was at Weymouth FC’s home game with Cambridge on saturday, where they evidently have a better class of wag. On a correct offside decision from the near-side linesman: “I’m surprised you can see that far Lino. Did someone send you an email?”
I love witty comments at football games, but they seem to be pretty few and far between these days.Perhaps non-league is the way to go? I’m getting shot of my City season ticket at the end of this season, and am considering going to watch Cheadle Town when I get a chance as it’s about 3 minutes walk from my house. They can’t be any less entertaining than most premiership matches are.I went to college with a lad from Weymouth; do you know Jon?
I remember once standing in the away end at Weymouth (i.e. behind the Weymouth goal – the best part of non-league footie is swapping ends at half time!) and a Weymouth fan turned around and shouted “FUCK OFF BACK TO YA SHEEP YA FUCKING BUNCH OF FARMERS”As Bashley fans (there’s more sheep in the village than humans, at least there was back in 1997/98) we were used to this, but the guy who said it had the most rural accent you could imagine! He was wearing wellie boots with shite up to his knees, and clearly was a farmerHappy days
Am I the only person not to have watched Weymouth?No, some football insults don’t make much sense at all. City fans, for as long as I can remember, have called Leeds fans a bunch of sheep shaggers. I know Leeds is in Yorkshire, but it’s not exactly in the dales!
Actually, I’m not from Weymouth, my daughter’s cousins live there, that’s all… Non-league is certainly different (last match attended before Weymouth-Cambridge: Liverpool-Benfica), and saturday’s game had a sending off for a near-karate-kick tackle, a twenty minute stop to find a linesman in the crowd because one on the pitch got injured, and a last second equalizer from Cambridge, all for 9.50. My Anfield ticket was 32 quid…Oh, and bad luck for last night. I live near Hammers territory and would have loved to see them lose. It was never a sending off, IMHO, either…
[Oh, and the cup-a-soup was only 70p. Result.]
70p? Fantastic, although it’s even cheaper if you bring your own flask; I’m getting to the age where I can carry it off.Not sure about the sending off; yes, it was silly rather than dangerous or malicious, but if you don’t take a swing at another player you stay on the pitch, simple as. More annoying was their second goal; Ashton looked a good foot offside to me, but no one mentioned it in all the furore.If your daughter’s cousins are from Weymouth then perhaps they know Jon? He is quite tall.
Doubtful: the oldest among them is 6. I’ll be sure to ask, though.