We love a scapegoat. Spacegoats extend beyond the media sales buzz agenda for future revivalists in the "Remember The [insert decade here]'s" clip/analysis shows.
What's great about the imminent South Africa 2010 tournament is that our wonderfully free and democratic British journalists have moved one step ahead of the game. Not content with rooting out which of our players is having an extra-marital affair, entertaining hookers, lining up the Columbian marching powder, betting on the Argies, mainlining heroin, shooting peasants, baiting badgers, plotting nuclear annihilation, taking it up the Wenger, posing nude for Out magazine, eating vegan food, eating fast food, voting for the BNP, or being revealed to be an Al Qaeda sleeper cell operative, our beloved "free press" has now decided what's really needed is the sabotaging of our chances of hosting a future World Cup tourney, should the world still exist as we know it after 2012.
You may want to read this first. Whether or you do or not, the fact is that there's at least the potential that an English newspaper published details of the private conversation of an English ambassador-to-the-game making an inappropriate remark about rival bids. In the sneaky world of financially motivated journalism there's no guarantee it might not have ended up in Spain, serving to doom us forever rather than set us back somewhat...
...But a British newspaper, whichever way you look at it, has pissed towards the candle of our nation presiding over the inevitable lack of repeating its own 52-year long exile from surprise and arguably shocking world stage success. A British newspaper has at least temporarily eased a cancerous burden that could have annihilated us closer to decision time. The news now is that "this may affect England's bid, prematurely" according to Radio Four, earlier. And don't get me started on the woman who sold the tape.
Right about now I'd be expecting the Daily Mail (and indeed all their scumbag ilk) to be luring Lampard into a honey trap or tempting Terry to, well, be John Fucking Terry, if we're honest about things. Because recent history has proven that if there is something that can screw up England's chances of winning anything it will be our hopeless "free press", in their misguided modern belief that The Public Have The Right To Know.
No, we don't. "Careless Talk Cost Lives" is something we were once taught. Well now lives aren't really on the line with what concerns us, how about our broadsheets and tabloids suddenly realised that "Careless Talk Costs Games"? Because I'm sure there's nothing worse, from the perspective of the England Team dressing room, than travelling past a newsagent to Wembley to be greeted with "SUN REVEALS ROONEY BUMS KIDS" on the board outside. I mean, I assume it's not true. But nevertheless, you people who have just read it have found it a little unsettling, I'm sure. And since you've read this far into the blog I assume you're smart people who can guess I'm going somewhere with this, and not someone who asserts that England's strongest strike threat is nothing more than a Catholic priest in shorts.
Rooney doesn't - at the time of going to publish - have a track record akin to Michael Jackson. Although their skin tone and grasp of social convention hasn't been dissimilar over the years, based on my findings in TV programs featuring articles from The Sun and The Daily Mail.
It's time for me to do my bit for blatant, testosterone driven national pride.
I want to see England win the World Cup in 2010. So I beseech of thee, as a right good user of proper; English with no typoes or owt, that you, the grand English public of North, east, south and west to go and kick the head in of any journalist you've ever heard of in the UK. It doesn't matter if it's Richard Hammond: he's had head injuries before, he can handle it. It doesn't really matter who it is, trust me. The basic instinct of a journalist is to "get a scoop". It doesn't have to be the man from the Mail or the woman from the Wormwood Weekly, it could just as easily be someone from Heat magazine. In fact, why not target Heat magazine journalists just because it's Heat magazine?
Seriously folks: silence these media soundbite whores, no matter who they be, or their agenda. Be it a "major feature push" or a cheap laugh at the expense of Frank Lampard's lisp, John Terry's obviously small penis, Steven Gerrard's deranged squint, David James inevitable stupid hairstyle or Peter Crouch's face, there will be something. They must be stopped!
Just take this as legally binding gospel: if you hear a card-carrying journalist say "Rooney is a paedophile" before we've got the World Cup on the coach home and rammed it up Ashley Cole's obviously willing arse, everything that might possibly go wrong is a direct result of modern media. Not on-pitch skill. Not diving South Americans. Not boring Germany. Not even misplaced words uttered to a traitor.