- Where truth becomes subjective and we’re all treated like idiots when really only half of us are - 25/10/2020
- Beam me up snotty - 18/10/2020
- Attitude to the arts strikes a sour note - 11/10/2020
I committed the ultimate schoolboy error on Saturday by expressing an opinion on social media. I really should know better, but I was so upset by the sale of Wolves forward Diogo Jota to Liverpool, my fingers took over and I left a comment on my team’s Facebook page and my own.
From the reaction it got within minutes of being posted on the club’s page one would have thought I had blamed our manager Nuno Espirito Santo for causing the coronavirus – and typhoid in the 1800s for good measure.
All I said was that at £41million I thought it had been a business decision rather than a footballing one and that I couldn’t imagine letting the Portuguese dynamo go was something our manager, who I firmly believe is the best thing by far to happen to Wolverhampton Wanderers in my lifetime, would have wanted, or indeed planned, as he is building something very special at Molyneux.
It began with sarcasm and went from there as if someone who has followed his team for more than 50 years through far more bad times than good wasn’t entitled to a point of view.
Nuno has a plan, I was told. I don’t doubt that at all, I just wonder if losing someone who has represented us so well for the past few years was a part of it.
But apparently wondering why someone of Jota’s talent would want to be paid to sit on the Reds bench for the next couple of years makes me some sort of traitor to the cause (and in one instance, a Karen!). That hurts even more.
I once made the mistake of adding a comment to a stream on a classic rock page saying that I couldn’t understand why Deep Purple’s December 1972 album Live In Japan was so highly thought of as I felt the performance was a bit ropey and my goodness, Katie Hopkins being booked as the keynote speaker at a Twitter convention would have been more popular than I was on Facebook.
Social media has become such an intrinsic part of many of our daily lives, but rather than opening up avenues of conversation (ie: being social, which is not my natural state) the result on many occasions is actually the opposite.
If I was of the right temperament I could have a lot of fun with that by deliberately winding people up, but when complete strangers think they have carte blanche to call anyone they don’t agree with a variety of four-letter epithets, it’s difficult not to take it a bit personally.
I’m perfectly capable of arguing face to face in a shop or a car park without someone a hundred miles or so away trying it on.
Money for old rope
‘A New Leadership’. I wonder how much the Labour Party paid someone for that little gem.
How good would that have looked if the party conference had gone ahead – assuming, of course that the ‘p’ didn’t drop off halfway through Kier Starmer’s speech during a coughing fit?
If you’re sitting on the fence, unsure of who to put your trust in, doesn’t it make you just want to put your big boy pants on, go out and vote for them right now?
No? Thought not.
Not exactly “naughty but nice” or “the sweet that melts in your mouth, not in your hand”, is it?
Maybe “Closed for repairs” would have been better – and cheaper.
Stupid TV quiz answer of the week
From The Chase:
Q: If something is said to be malodorous, which sense is affected?
Thicko of the week, though has to go to the lass on Gogglebox watching Des on ITV and because it was based on true events, automatically assumed that David Tennant was a serial killer.
Meanwhile quote of the week goes to Mary of Giles and Mary in the same programme. I dare not repeat it here but I choked on my chicken (I know that seems like a euphemism considering what she said, but I was actually eating chicken at the time).