Whatever we throw at it,no matter how we blind it with greed or dilute its edges, football remains an addictive, or engaging,consoling source of human interest
First impressions tend to linger. For example, I’ve always liked Paul Merson as a pundit despite the fact he might not be the most knowledgable or the most coherent and may sometimes appear not to maintain realised he’s on television at all, and to maintain just found himself talking for a really long time with smartly dressed people approximately Arsène Wenger while,for reasons that escape him, sitting in a brightly lit room behind a cardboard desk.
The moment I first realised I was going along with pretty much whatever Merse said was the aftermath of Michael Owen’s goal against Argentina at France 98. Never mind the finish or the way the pre-injury Owen is able to move his feet at a unfamiliar, and scurrying triple-speed,operating within his own distinct bubble of time and space.
Continue reading...
Source: guardian.co.uk