Absolutely Brooking It

A man stands in a field, alone save for the deserted country road behind him and the rolling hills ahead. A dignified man, he looks around to see he is alone. He unzips his flies. He starts to piss. The gentle breeze, which before had rustled the leaves on the trees and had the corn swaying lightly on its stalks, picks up. Much to his chagrin, the wind flares still further and he gets a bit of piss on his trouser legs.

The harder he pisses though, the more the wind whips around him and the wetter his trousers become. Exhausted, he zips himself up. He's covered in piss. Trevor Brooking sighs and makes his way back to his car.

Wonderful Wilshere Overshadows Familiar Faults

I watched the Emirates Cup this weekend – pretty much the first football I’ve seen since the World Cup and Javier Hernandez / Spain’s Under-19s on YouTube. Despite finding it slightly odd that in a tournament also containing AC Milan and Lyon, Arsenal v Celtic was the match trumpeted as the ‘showcase’ by Sky on Sunday afternoon, it was enjoyable enough. And after all, it’s not like Sky aren’t used to trumpeting ANY fixture as world-beating on a Sunday afternoon.

It wouldn’t be surprising if this tournament was renamed the ‘Jack Wilshere Cup’ next season, such is the little Englishman’s deserved dominance of the headlines after Arsenal’s two matches. Wilshere has two of the qualities missing so desperately from all things to do with English football this summer – confidence and composure. He doesn’t ‘attempt’ cross-field passes, one-touch layoffs, turns and runs through the middle of midfield like so many English midfielders, he just executes them. His first touch is superb.