Bluesy Boos?

17th January 2009

One of those rare days. Hope days like these never come again. Faith doubted is faith lost. Or is it? Match-day 21. Chelsea playing Stoke at the Bridge. Half a year ago, 3 points guaranteed. Present state, Chelsea at home? Who the heck are they? From being the side with the greatest mental strength in Europe to a stuttering, faltering side who struggle to beat newly-promoted teams at home. Wait, what was that?

I grab my place in front of the idiot box. Saturdays and Sundays are the days I refuse to hand the remote over to my parents (or sister as is the case currently). The remote follows me over the place a la Mary and her Little Lamb. Not that I’m Mary, but I know you guys aren’t stupid enough for direct comparisons. You don’t look it, that you might be is an altogether different matter. It even accompanies me to the toilet. No kidding.

So, as I said, Me in front of the box. Curse Scolari a few times. Stupid team selection. What the fvck is he doing with a 4-3-3 having 3 strikers out of which only one can score without placing a nude model in front of the goal? Not that I want Diver-boy to play.

Out of the 3, even my grandmother could play better than Malouda. I still wonder why Scolari continues to pick him. Same with Ballack. No doubt he was a brilliant player in his prime, which is now past. Now, he just passes the ball to the other team. Lousy.

Not the reason to lose faith in the team now, is there? But having the horrible personnel that it had, even then Chelsea had to beat Stoke City, you would think. But no, might Chelsea had to scrape and sqeak and whimper their way around. No doubt they dominated the match, but the created enough chances to feed a couple of dormice. No life in the game. No passion for the game. No determination to win. Just a few men plodding around in elderly fashion trying to entertain a couple of footballers. First time I ever switched a TV off before a Chelsea match ended.

Not done. Tried to tell my parents how horrible my team was playing. My parents suggested I stop being so emotional about a football team. What else do I be emotional about? They even suggested switching teams. The very blasphemous idea chilled me to the bone. Change teams?! Never in the world.

The result is this post.

Hallelujah?

Now, we’re real close to the year 2009. Seems so strange. A year. A year, wiser or more foolish? Just the right balance, methinks. Right now, I can only think of my legal possibilty of drinking, driving, and loads of other things. Oh, damn them, can only drink at 21. 3 years then, 3 years. My blog might even cease to exist then. Laziness, you say? Nah, boredom would be more likely. Not that I’m bored writing, but I hardly have any creative friends who write consistently enough for me to be motivated. The few who tried sunk wi’out a trace. May they Rest In Peace. Or is it their souls? Ah well, I tend to muddle these sort of things up.

Quite an eventful year, this. 2008. Leap year. Nice. We even had an exam on 29th February. Good way to remember the year? Definitely not. With an emphatic, albeit, not uppercase, ‘N’. IIT-JEE, AIEEE, CET, 12th Boards, everything. Ah, the cursed year.

Bright point :- Got admission to a good college.

Low points:- Chelsea lost in the final. Wanted better AIEEE marks.

Damned in early-2008 as an underachiever, another word for “lazy”. Early mid-2008, parents look for alternate seats to bearable colleges. Son can’t believe. Loses all semblance of self-confidence. World stuttering below his feet. Late mid-2008. Results out. Fails to pass muster in JEE and AIEEE. Pulls a rabbit out of the hat. Manages passable marks in CET. All world is back again with the underachieving so-called prodigy. Late-2008. Horrible go the sem. exams. Old feelings return.

No way back now. Enjoying football. Enjoying everything. Just one longing. One thing (or person?) I want most in this world. And it/he(oops!)/she dislikes me. Sigh. The irony of life. You get what you don’t want. Count me lucky? Count again. Hopeless romantic. Seems tough, sarcastic, even cold. Foolishly emotional inside. Pining for something lost pre-2008.