Of bantering, bullying, and blondes (and a bunch of bull)
Ok. I won't lie and argue I've never called someone names just because of the football club he or she supports. I'm not that much of a correct person. I have a friend who supports Chelsea. She calls United "Merde U". Well, I answer with "Chelshit". Yet, as soon as the game is over, we go back to be as friendly as ever, and we talk about our mutual passion, literature.
One of my best friends is a Liverpool supporter. He calls the Theatre of Dreams Old Trashford. I called him and made fun of him when Berbatov scored the hat-trick against his team and tell him I'd rather walk alone. Yet, when United lost against City, he called me and told me he hoped I was not so upset.
I have friends who support Arsenal. They call United ManUre. I call the Gunners "Goners" together with my Chelsea-supporting friend. We're always picking on each other. Yet, on that game when Ed, lovely Ed van der Sar, had great saves against Arsenal, both of them admitted the goalkeeper's superiority.
So, as you can see, all the insults are part of the banter. They're all part of the team rivalry thing, of supporting, of bragging around. They're part of a game. The most beautiful and emotional game, that moves millions of hearts, but a game after all. A game which millions of us love because it brings us together as well.
So, aren't we free to express our passion? I say that because today aka_centimetre2 told me that she went out wearing her United scarf. And guess what? Somebody saw her and called her "whore".
Why? Why would somebody who doesn't even know her call her that? Just because she wears a scarf of the team she supports? It's like if I went out and insulted everyone who wore a City jersey. Or an Inter one.
That is not football. That is bullying. Or being a dick.
And anyways, whore? Well, only with this man. And yes, I'd be a whore for him too.
Well, I'd be for both, actually, but that's just me, hehehe. But oh yes. Edwin was wonderful today, so handsome, a dashing captain. He was so cool in his goodbye speech when he promised the Champions League Cup. I cried, of course (and cursed when ESPN cut the post-match celebrating) but, all in all, I felt he was great all the way. I don't want to see myself next Saturday though.
That way, we move on to another man I love. The next blonde in the list. Or, at least...
I thought he was blonde. Golden blonde.
But, after fooling around in Getty Images and finding one of when he was very young, the first reaction was: uh?
Don't you give me the innocent boy face, Pavel Nedved. Where's the blonde hair?
I thought it was all a matter of, you know, the hair looks darker when it's shorter. So I went for another pic. And I saw this:
Surprised, sweetheart? Yes, because that is a dark root.
Even this Adonis-like pic didn't stop my heart from breaking.
Pavel Nedved dyes his hair.
Pavel Nedved is not a natural blonde.
Here I can't see the dark roots. Too much bleach, honey?
You have broken my heart you fake Patrick Swayze look-alike. I've been fooled by you all these years.
*wails*