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From The Guardian:

 

Aaron Mokoena: 'Mum dressed me as a girl to save me from killers'

It is not a typical footballer's tale of youthful hardship. Aaron Mokoena will play for Portsmouth at Wembley in the FA Cup final against Chelsea and then captain South Africa at the continent's first World Cup but he might have failed to see his 12th birthday if his mother had not dressed him as a girl to hide him from an atrocity in the grim days of apartheid.

 

Mokoena's township of Boipatong near Vanderbijlpark was the site of a massacre in June 1992, when Inkatha party members, aided by the police, swept in by night to kill more than 40 people, including pregnant women and children. In the aftermath, it was rumoured that the murderers wanted to purge the township of its next generation of men.

 

"I was still young, only 11 years of age, but I remember the following day that I was on my way to school and people were coming back, crying," Mokoena said. "That's when we heard there had been a massacre. It happened at night when people were sleeping. It was awful.

 

"After the massacre, there were a lot of rumours saying that these people wanted to kill the young boys. So my mum had to protect me in any way and she decided to dress me as a girl. She also took me to this community hall where there was enough protection for people from the township, especially the boys."

 

Mokoena was the youngest of seven siblings and he lost his father when he was only seven. "My sisters and my brothers really experienced apartheid," he said. "Afrikaners were really in control of our township because it was not very far from their territory. So it was easy for them to control.

 

"For other townships as well, it was really, really bad. The story I tell is what we went through in the small township where I was born but it was not an isolated thing."

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Fair Play to them: 'Typical Germans'

 

BERLIN (Reuters) - Cologne are offering frustrated airline passengers stranded because of the volcanic ash that has blanketed much of Europe free tickets to their Bundesliga match on Friday.

 

Hundreds of thousands of passengers have been stuck at airports across much of northern Europe due to a volcano erupting on Iceland that has sent a plume of smoke across the continent.

 

Cologne/Bonn airport shut down on Friday along with most of the country's airports.

 

Passengers need only show their airline ticket to get free entry to the stadium for the match against VfL Bochum, the club said on their website (www.fc-koeln.de).

 

"As long as stocks last," the statement added.

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http://www.sportingintelligence.com/2010/04/14/aston-villa-the-sound-a-disappointed-frog-makes-when-it-realises-that-no-matter-how-hard-it-tries-its-tongue-just-won%E2%80%99t-reach-a-tasty-fly-140401/

 

 

Once the storm of burning rage following Tottenham’s magnificent bottling of another FA Cup semi-final had eventually subsided, it was widely agreed that the events of Sunday were very ‘Spursey’. Very much in the mould of Tottenham Hotspur Football Club. Flog through the earlier rounds, treat a lower league side or two very badly, get into a position to make the final and then Spurs it right up on a pitch apparently constructed from pistachio ice cream and razor blades.

 

Sunday really was the epitome of ‘a Spursing’ – to go 1-0 down in extra-time and then have a perfectly good goal disallowed before shipping a penalty that never was despite battering a team likely to disappear into cashless oblivion within the calendar year. It does not get more Spurs than that.

 

Which made me wonder what the rest of the inhabitants of Sky’s soaraway wonder-league mean to the most important arbiter of footballing good taste.  Me.

 

So here for your delectation are the definitions of every football club in the Premiership accepting as we must that ‘to Tottenham’ means ‘to sporadically promise the earth only to defecate in a pie and present it as a gift’.

 

From the top -

 

Chelsea: to raise a rival’s hopes of a humiliating collapse only to emerge from the depths of despair somehow more powerful than anyone could ever imagine while simultaneously shedding tradition in favour of jester hats, corporate entertainment and ‘synergies’.

 

Manchester United: a prog-rock band living on past glories who insist on giving their comeback tour an overly-grandiose name despite their lead singer having been replaced after a contretemps over royalties by the guitarist from Roxette.

 

Arsenal: to consistently prove to not, in fact, be the second coming despite the confident predictions of a legion of commentators, pundits and fools and instead prove, year-in-year-out, to be a moderately talented juggler and comedian with a massive fanbase in Albania.

 

Manchester City: the winner of the largest Lottery payout in history who resigns from his job in a toilet paper factory and spends his leisure time reminding former friends of just how wealthy and deserving of their respect he is.

 

Liverpool: a worryingly perished novelty balloon filled with rancid condensed milk which, for some God-forsaken reason, an ageing lothario is poking with a candy-striped stick.

 

Aston Villa: the sound a disappointed frog makes when it realises that no matter how hard it tries, its tongue just won’t reach a tasty fly.

 

Everton: a broken door handle that requires a knack to open but you simply can’t be bothered to replace. Will work perfectly for a week and then lock you out causing you to kick the door and scuff your favourite trainers.

 

Birmingham City: an evangelical preacher in the Deep South who makes much of the fact he used to run a stable of whores but is much better now thanks to the love of our Lord Jesus. May have a collection of little shoes.

 

Stoke City: the two-carriage 1970s locomotive that arrives when you really wanted to go home on one of the fancy trains. You know, with the internets. Scotch eggs will be available.

 

Blackburn Rovers: a sneaking feeling you have peaked far too early and the story you’re telling can only end badly for everyone involved. With overtones of stale lager.

 

Fulham: a confectioner who bases his entire life around the two weeks he spends in a villa on the Amalfi coast. Well-regarded in his home town but refuses to stock sherbet UFOs.

 

Sunderland: stunningly lifelike street scenery used in the background of a tawdry daytime soap opera which on closer inspection proves to be two-dimensional and supported by little more than bags of sand and window putty.

 

Wolverhampton Wanderers: the smell of pipe tobacco that reminds you of your grandfather’s shed.

 

Bolton Wanderers: the frying pan you only discover you’ve jumped into after fleeing the fire when it’s far too late. And Kevin Davies is holding the handle.

 

West Ham: a misplaced apostrophe on a blackboard advertising “pie’s n mash”. It makes you sad but you’re not really sure why. Russell Brand thinks it’s brilliant though.

 

Wigan Athletic: a shop you thought had closed down years ago but turns out to still be trading and have an untouched tin of Creamola Foam on a dusty shelf. Has one day-glo star in the window with ‘BEANZ’ written on it in felt-tip.

 

Burnley: a hospital A&E department at 5am on a Sunday morning. Not pretty but it’ll be over soon.

 

Hull City: three elderly gentlemen looking half-heartedly at a traction engine and wondering when they might be allowed a sandwich.

 

Portsmouth: the noise the cuckoo in a broken souvenir clock makes when a child forces it to chime.

 

And that’s what the Premiership means to me.

 

That and endless disappointment.

 

.

 

More Jonnie Baker

 

Sportingintelligence’s front page today

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Has been talked about this before? Mike Ashley was at the FA Cup semi final Spurs - Portsmouth. Is he still a Spurs fan?  :lol:

 

http://cache3.asset-cache.net/xc/98391572.jpg?v=1&c=NewsMaker&k=2&d=77BFBA49EF878921A343B2C87A49D8F5FC25680194CC3D3CD1D168C4C9896DEDBE607FBDFF3F7C5C

 

LONDON, ENGLAND - APRIL 11: Newcastle United owner Mike Ashley sits in the stands during the FA Cup sponsored by E.ON Semi Final match between Tottenham Hotspur and Portsmouth at Wembley Stadium on April 11, 2010 in London, England. (Photo by Jed Leicester - The FA/The FA via Getty Images)
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Guest Heneage

2 days old now but Tommy Craig has been sacked by Charleroi. How he ended up there is anyones guess.

He was assitant to John Collins who was the gaffer, when he got sacked they moved Tommy up.

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Has been talked about this before? Mike Ashley was at the FA Cup semi final Spurs - Portsmouth. Is he still a Spurs fan?  :lol:

 

http://cache3.asset-cache.net/xc/98391572.jpg?v=1&c=NewsMaker&k=2&d=77BFBA49EF878921A343B2C87A49D8F5FC25680194CC3D3CD1D168C4C9896DEDBE607FBDFF3F7C5C

 

LONDON, ENGLAND - APRIL 11: Newcastle United owner Mike Ashley sits in the stands during the FA Cup sponsored by E.ON Semi Final match between Tottenham Hotspur and Portsmouth at Wembley Stadium on April 11, 2010 in London, England. (Photo by Jed Leicester - The FA/The FA via Getty Images)

 

On that basis, does Capello support Spurs too? ;)

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Has been talked about this before? Mike Ashley was at the FA Cup semi final Spurs - Portsmouth. Is he still a Spurs fan?  :lol:

 

http://cache3.asset-cache.net/xc/98391572.jpg?v=1&c=NewsMaker&k=2&d=77BFBA49EF878921A343B2C87A49D8F5FC25680194CC3D3CD1D168C4C9896DEDBE607FBDFF3F7C5C

 

LONDON, ENGLAND - APRIL 11: Newcastle United owner Mike Ashley sits in the stands during the FA Cup sponsored by E.ON Semi Final match between Tottenham Hotspur and Portsmouth at Wembley Stadium on April 11, 2010 in London, England. (Photo by Jed Leicester - The FA/The FA via Getty Images)

maybe hes a pompey fan

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Does the press actually want England to win the World Cup? Not that I'm defending Defoe.....

the obvious answer to that question is a firm no, they wouldnt know what to do with themselves positive thinking goes against their mo

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Does the press actually want England to win the World Cup? Not that I'm defending Defoe.....

the obvious answer to that question is a firm no, they wouldnt know what to do with themselves positive thinking goes against their mo

 

Most of the coverage would be slagging off our opponents I imagine, finding foreign news articles bemoaning their luck or questioning a decision, claiming such and such a player had tarnished the win by being caught saying a swearword or not singing the anthem at the final...

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The new 'face' of ITV football:

 

Adrian Chiles quits BBC

 

http://www.wordmagazine.co.uk/files/u3/Adrian-Chiles_news_358x265.jpg

 

The One Show presenter Adrian Chiles is to join ITV and GMTV in a new four-year deal, it has been confirmed.

 

He will be a main host on the breakfast station and also front ITV's football coverage, including the World Cup, Champions' League and England matches.

 

BBC Breakfast's Chris Hollins is expected to replace Chiles on BBC One's weekday evening magazine show.

 

Earlier this month, Chris Evans was confirmed as the new presenter of The One Show on Friday evenings.

 

Chiles said he is "absolutely delighted" to be joining ITV.

 

"The chance to front ITV's football coverage and GMTV would have proved an irresistible opportunity at the best of times.

 

"But, coming as it did at an an awkward period for me at the BBC, it made the decision not quite as hard as it might have been."

 

He added that it was "no secret how disappointed" he was at the decision to alter The One Show's format, and said he would have been happy to remain at the BBC "doing the same shows on the same terms".

 

A BBC spokesman said: "We would like to thank Adrian for his contributions to his programmes and we wish him well for the future."

 

At the time of the announcement of Evans joining the show, the BBC said they were "keen" that Chiles remain part of the programme's presenting team.

 

They added that his contract was "still being negotiated".

 

Friday's new one-hour show will see Evans host alongside regular co-presenter Christine Bleakley.

 

Last year, Evans made his TV comeback appearing as a guest on The One Show.

 

Chiles' other presenting roles on the BBC include Apprentice spin-off You've Been Fired and Match of the Day 2.

 

The presenter is due to appear on the GMTV sofa five days a week from later this year, ITV said in a statement.

 

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/entertainment/8629390.stm

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The new 'face' of ITV football:

 

Adrian Chiles quits BBC

 

http://www.wordmagazine.co.uk/files/u3/Adrian-Chiles_news_358x265.jpg

 

The One Show presenter Adrian Chiles is to join ITV and GMTV in a new four-year deal, it has been confirmed.

 

He will be a main host on the breakfast station and also front ITV's football coverage, including the World Cup, Champions' League and England matches.

 

BBC Breakfast's Chris Hollins is expected to replace Chiles on BBC One's weekday evening magazine show.

 

Earlier this month, Chris Evans was confirmed as the new presenter of The One Show on Friday evenings.

 

Chiles said he is "absolutely delighted" to be joining ITV.

 

"The chance to front ITV's football coverage and GMTV would have proved an irresistible opportunity at the best of times.

 

"But, coming as it did at an an awkward period for me at the BBC, it made the decision not quite as hard as it might have been."

 

He added that it was "no secret how disappointed" he was at the decision to alter The One Show's format, and said he would have been happy to remain at the BBC "doing the same shows on the same terms".

 

A BBC spokesman said: "We would like to thank Adrian for his contributions to his programmes and we wish him well for the future."

 

At the time of the announcement of Evans joining the show, the BBC said they were "keen" that Chiles remain part of the programme's presenting team.

 

They added that his contract was "still being negotiated".

 

Friday's new one-hour show will see Evans host alongside regular co-presenter Christine Bleakley.

 

Last year, Evans made his TV comeback appearing as a guest on The One Show.

 

Chiles' other presenting roles on the BBC include Apprentice spin-off You've Been Fired and Match of the Day 2.

 

The presenter is due to appear on the GMTV sofa five days a week from later this year, ITV said in a statement.

 

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/entertainment/8629390.stm

whos going to present motd2 then?

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Guest palnese

The Grimsby Ranter volume II

 

http://www.thefishy.co.uk/cgi-bin/forum/Blah.pl?m-1271541289/

 

Now I’m as optimistic as anyone when it comes to this twát of a football club, but after this afternoon’s latest capitulation it’s time to wake up and smell the coffee – we’re fúcked. Down. Goners. Non-league. To be honest I didn’t know how it would affect me, it’s not like it hasn’t been coming, but tonight I just feel absolutely deflated. Absolutely fúcking devastated.

 

I can’t get away from these emotions, I just want the whole world to just fúck off and leave me alone. To help me come to terms with this whole mess, I’ve decided to compile a list of everyone and everything I want to fúck off most of all.

 

For starters, work can fúck off. If they think I’m going to be there on Monday morning they’ve got another thing coming. No way am I going in to spend time dealing with cúnts that I can barely stand being with when I’m in a good mood, let alone this crushing feeling of anger, frustration and outright metaphorical-kicked-in-the-bóllocks-ness.

 

Plastic Premier League fans can fúck off. I just spoke to my Manchester United supporting neighbour (who incidentally, has been to Old Trafford before – twice) about Town’s predicament. You know what he said? “I know how you feel; it’s like when we failed to win a trophy in ‘95”. NO IT FÚCKING WELL IS NOT!

 

He no longer has a face.

 

The girlfriend can definitely fúck off. Her best attempt at consolation – “I don’t know why you’re bothered; you knew they were shít anyway”. Yes love, but they’re MY shít team. They’ve been MINE for pretty much as long as I’ve been able to wipe my own árse, and they’ll be MINE for as long as I’m alive (or at least, until I’m no longer able to wipe my own árse). Truth is, watching my team win does things for me that no woman can. If push comes to shove and I’m horny, I can always have a wánk.

 

Barrow can fúck off. I’ve been all over the country and beyond to watch my team, but frankly I just don’t have the stomach to visit any town which makes Scunthorpe look like fúcking St. Tropez.

 

Dad, you can fúck off. This is your fault. Your idea. You introduced me to this shower of shít. “Come with me to Blundell Park”, you said, “Come and support the boys”. What could I do? I was fúcking four, what choice did I have? Why not get me hooked on Heroin whilst you were at it? I could have gone with mum shopping for bras and knickers at British Home Stores, but no, you knew best.

 

Granted, I’d have probably grown up a homosexual but surely even being simultaneously búggered two guys named Seth and Quentin couldn’t hurt like this.

 

Seeing as we’re on the subject of homosexuality, Gok Wan can fúck off. No particular reason, I just plain don’t like the annoying, goggle-eyed cúnt.

 

The F.A. can fúck off. Not for supplying us, week-in, week- out, with inept referee after inept referee, but for imposing sensible financial rules on all clubs in League Two. How many clubs in this division have been into administration this season? Not one. How many points deducted? Not one. How the fúck else are we supposed to avoid relegation – footballing merit? We didn’t have to last season, so why spoil the fun now?

 

The World Cup can fúck off – I don’t care anymore.

 

My local pizza shop can fúck off. I ordered a 12” Pepperoni over an hour ago, and where the fúck is it? Are they trying to fúcking fly it to me or something?

 

Sky Sports can fúck off. Nothing personal, but there’ll be little need for me next season with no Town to be found anywhere. Ooh, Bolton versus Wolves, LIVE. I think I’ll pass...

 

The radio can fúck off. On my way home from the match, whilst driving down the M180, I caught three completely separate stations playing ‘Down’ by Jay Sean at the exact same fúcking time. The song’s the best part of a year old, how the fúck does that happen by coincidence!?

 

My nan’s old lucky Buddha that used to sit in her front room can fúck off. When I was a kid I held it in my hands and wished for Town to be in the Premier League. I meant the proper one you fat cúnt, not the one occupied by Histon, Eastbourne and for fúck’s sake, Ebbsfleet, wherever that is.

 

Tonight can fúck off. I’ve had enough of trying to cope with my emotions; the time has come for oblivion. I haven’t kept any booze in the house since an occasion known only as ‘That Night’ by myself and the missus, but suffice to say that the toilet duck and luminous blue mouthwash are looking like stronger propositions by the minute.

 

Most of all though, the last 10 years can fúck off. In that time I’ve watched my team fall from the top of the Championship into non-league nothingness. We’ve gone from one great big fúck up to the next without even coming up for air, and today is just the big, fúck off cherry on top.

 

One thing I’m sure of though is that we WILL be back. When it comes down to it, a football club is basically just a set of supporters, and frankly what I’ve learned in the last few years is that this one has some of the best. We’ve had to put up with some shít, haven’t we boys, but in spite of all of that the future is still bright – it’s fúcking black and white.

 

Grimsby ‘til I die...

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