Spurs get themselves into a Jol-ly Old Mess
1,188 comments August 23rd, 2007
Don’t worry, this hasn’t turned into Spursblog. If anything, today’s entry could be an extract from Laughatspursblog. As an Arsenal fan, I feel it’s my duty to point out what a hilarious mess they’ve got themselves into.
To explain ridiculous situations, I often find it best to use allegory. And so I shall today. I present to you:
The Story of the Two Watches
Danny Levy was a little boy with a dream. His dream was to have the best watch in the world, and subsequently be the coolest guy in school. Danny’s current watch wasn’t much to shout about – all the other kids laughed at him and made jokes about it.
Why? Well, Danny had never really wanted his watch. He had bought a fancy French one, and the Dutch one had come free with it. The French watch was everything had dreamed of – great brand, shiny strap, and a seamlessly-integrated stopwatch feature. But, tragically, it turned out to be rubbish. After just a couple of months, it broke completely, and Danny was forced to wear the Dutch watch.
Dutch watches are usually classy, and cool. This one wasn’t. It was enormous, and rather round. It looked, many said, like an oddly-formed potato on a strap. However, it ticked fairly regularly and generally performed alright. In spite of the taunts of all the other boys, with their fancy French and Portugese watches, little Danny resigned himself to his Dutch time-telling device.
Until one day, walking down his local street, Danny was startled by something he saw glistening in a shop window. With his nose pressed against the glass, he shielded his eyes from the sheen of the most beautiful watch he’d ever seen. Hand-crafted in Seville, Spain, it came complete with stopwatch, countdown timer, and ejector seat. This was the watch Danny had always wanted. It was the watch that would immediately catapult him into the top four coolest kids at school.
Boiling over with excitement, he burst into the shop, and asked how much it would cost for the Sevillian masterpiece.
“But a bob and hapenny”, said the shopkeeper.
“A bob and hapenny?”, thought Danny – “Why, I have that at home!”
Literally wetting himself with glee, he charged all the way back down the street to his house, smashed open his piggy bank, and emptied out the coins. Piling them into the pocket, he was about to leave once more, when he spied something on his mantelpiece: his old Dutch watch.
This was it. Now he would make that stupid watch pay for making him the butt of everyone’s jokes. Now he was going to be in the top four coolest kids at school, he had no need for the potato-shaped monstrosity. Throwing the watch to the floor, he began to jump up and down on it, crushing it’s ugly face and breaking it’s flailing hands. Satisfied his work was done, Danny started out again, heading back towards the shop.
As he walked, he whistled. He couldn’t wait for the accolades that would greet his wonderful new wrist-watch. Imagine the glories that awaited him. He reached the shop door, and a little bell sounded as he entered.
“I’ve brought my bob and hapenny”, said Danny.
“Why, whatever for?” asked the shopkeeper.
“The watch of course”, replied Danny, “The beautiful Spanish one you said I could have yesterday”.
“Oh, I’ve changed my mind,” said the shopkeeper – “I’m keeping it for at least a year. Now fuck off.”
Danny was crestfallen. He sank to his knees in the shop, and bawled. Not big, manly tears, but the tears of a six-year old girl. He cried and cried until he could cry no more. As he walked all the way home, all the passers by laughed at Danny, and this time more than ever.
When he got in, he collapsed to the floor, defeated. His dreams of the Spanish watch and top four popularity had been shattered. Danny sobbed some more. He stank of salty tears and urine. This was the undoubted low-point of his young life.
Glancing over to the corner of the room, he saw the Dutch watch, as crumpled and defeated as himself. But now, all of a sudden, he needed it again. After all, he couldn’t go the whole season without a watch. He was prepared to wait for the Spanish watch to be put on sale again, but in the mean-time…
Danny winced at the thought. But he had no choice. His eyes red with crying, he picked up the now mashed potato-watch. Slowly, he fastened the strap to his wrist.
Once again, Danny was a prisoner to its mediocrity. And this time, it was all smashed up and ruined and stuff.
What a gigantic fuck-up.
THE END
