The Evolution of Ebenezer Scrooge

It’s about to be Christmas and I am buzzing with excitement. The holidays bring out the best in me with my liver going for a personal best every time.

Christmas time is a special season and when I was growing up the Sales House advert which tried to capture the ideal of Christmas in Africa seemed pretty accurate. Everyone dressed to the nines; one or two roosters giving the ultimate sacrifice; the Christmas buses packed to the rafters, and the word ‘bonus’ softening even Ebenezer Scrooge’s heart and opening his wallet.

As a child Christmas was about new clothes, walking around the neighborhood and stuffing one’s face, and if you were lucky there were fire crackers going off left, right and centre. Like all children from our generation TV played an important role in my upbringing. So it was inevitable that my definition and experience of Christmas was going to clash with the whole western version of Christmas i.e. no snow, no reindeers, no overweight white old man with a penchant for chimneys and breaking and entry. Despite my reservations I still believed in Christmas and wondered if it would ever snow here and how Father Christmas would deal with the heat in that outfit.

As I got older and more mature (which doesn’t always follow) I found Jesus in Christmas and the spiritual side of Christmas became significant. Sadly age came with knowledge and I soon found out that Jesus wasn’t even born in December and the picture of Christmas the world was selling was distorted to say the least. Actually, it would seem Christmas as a whole was a machination of capitalism and creative marketing divisions the world over. It wasn’t steeped in fact or tradition. This loss of faith and general distrust of the whole season carried on into my early twenties where I found the joy of the holidays being with family and celebrating extensively whilst improving Delta Beverages’ sales. I would spare some time to celebrate the birth of the Saviour of Mankind without focusing on the inaccuracies shoved down our throats by the media. At the back of my mind and in my heart I liked the Father Christmas/Santa Clause thing and figured it was tribute to a Saint and the fables that came with it had to be indulged or, at worst, tolerated. Sadly my holiday fervor came crashing down when I discovered that Father Christmas, or at least his famous image was a creation of Coca-Cola. Well, sort of. Santa Clause as we see him is based on a famous saint whose generosity and benevolence was renowned, but over the years his character has evolved with his most significant make over being in the 1920’s when Don Draper in a bid to improve the sale of Coca-Cola during winter used Father Christmas to promote Coca-Cola. Through the extensive campaigns and the evident success of Coca-Cola their depiction of Santa has become the most accepted and recognized. As for the colours, they say it’s mere coincidence and nothing else. I wonder if that’s true.

So as I look forward to the holidays I don’t doubt their worth and importance. I just wonder if capitalism and all its trappings have not hijacked an important time, and if they have, how do we as a people not lose its essence and value to mankind’s growth? So as you revel in all that is Christmas and trip over tradition you don’t understand, pause for a moment to find what Christmas means to you and make it count.

See all you single ladies under the mistletoe! That’s if I can find any – hope the fake stuff counts!

An EPL Christmas Carol

The EPL with all its intrigue and suspense has fans begging for more, and during the Christmas period it’s as if the powers that be want to test the theory of whether “there is such a thing as too much of a good thing”.

The English Premier League is one of the few leagues in the world that do not go on any sort of break during the Christmas holiday period. In fact during the festive season a team will play up to 4 games in a space of 12 days.

A season can go up in flames during this period and the big teams use their main squads to take advantage of this flurry of games. At this point the Red Devils go into this period with a 6-point lead and a history behind them. Their wise and cunning leader, Sir Alex Ferguson, has over the years perfected his run for the championship by ensuring his team will do well during the frenetic schedule. The question this season is: will his fragile defense withstand the onslaught and will his ageing squad have enough cover to build an even bigger gap at the top before the transfer window opens in January and the rivals use money to cure their short comings?

The noisy neighbors are in second place with 6 points of the pace having been handed their first defeat of the season by Scumester United. The Citizens have a big enough squad to cope with the challenges of the hectic Christmas schedule, and hopefully their defeat will spur them on to utilize their resources fully and make a strong bid for the title. Having been knocked out of the Champions League they can now focus on retaining the league and justify their backer’s more than generous support.

But as we go to Christmas all eyes have been on Stamford Bridge. The sacking of Roberto Di Matteo at such a crucial time and the appointment of Rafa Benitez reminds us history students of another Russian Revolution. Ambromovich and his fans are, not for the first time, at loggerheads, with the owner pulling rank much to the fans’ chagrin. Christmas will test Chelsea and either forge them into a strong contender or push them further into chaos rivaling S^t Peters square in the early 20^th century. I for one will be watching the plot unfold with interest, wishing Benitez and Torres more luck than Trotsky and Co.

The rest of the league is divided into teams fighting for the one Champions League spot left and those fighting to avoid relegation. Arsenal seem to lack ambition and depth; the holiday could send them into the chaos that had fans baying for Arsene Wenger’s blood last season. Liverpool are finally on the 1^st page of the log and if they can hold it together up until January to buy a striker that 4^th Champions League spot is within reach, and dare I say it a late charge at the leaders on the final stretch will have the faithful shouting “YNWA”. Tottenham and Everton are in the mix trying to mess up everyone’s plans but something tells me they lack the depth to keep up and, come February, AVB’s days in the EPL will come to an abrupt end and Fellani will do a Delilah or at least a good barber and the blue side of Liverpool will have to assume their usual position of “we’re glad we made it” and “we wish we were red”.

At the bottom QPR’s flirtation with the big time looks like as with all such relationships it is about to come to a sad and painful end. In a bid to rescue themselves they have engaged the services of Harry Houdini Redknapp. Can someone remind me how the great Houdini died by the way?

So as I wish everyone a Merry Christmas and a fantastic New Year, I will hog the remote and feast on the world’s greatest League, wondering if Father Christmas supports Manchester United, Arsenal or Liverpool or is it just that he loves Coca-Cola?

Form is temporary. Class is forever

Cue dramatic music – builds to a crescendo!
Distinguished voice booms: “Last on the EPL…”

Chelsea were sitting pretty. The Citizens couldn’t buy a win. Manchester United were winning ugly with a showdown at the bridge looming. The Reds’ woes continued and the authorities were not happy about the London 2012 Olympics’ influence on the players, particularly the diving events (Cue advert).

They say football is a gentleman’s sport played by hooligans. Cantona’s famous kung-Fu kick; Zidane’s successful imitation of a bull at Matterrazzi’s expense; Vinnie Jones and the Crazy Gang; José Mourinho’s “restrained” celebrations; and then of course, the fans.

The modern game is played and followed by a passionate lot to say the least, so when the custodians of the game said they were going to clamp down on diving I sat up and paid attention. Was the world’s most beautiful game now moving towards its noble nature?? Diving or simulation is blatant cheating; it is when the player dupes the referee into awarding a free kick/ penalty when there has been no transgression. This usually involves flinging himself in the air or some other note worthy acting. Over the years this art form has reared its ugly head with the players bearing the brunt whilst no one looks at the real villains i.e. the administrators. Lately sport has realized the value of technology in improving the way sport is managed and officiated. Sports like rugby and cricket have embraced the technology giving the fans as close to a perfect game as they possibly can.

Strangely, football has refused to engage technology. Within seconds fans know whether a referee has made a wrong decision and yet they still have to bear the injustice. Wrong offside calls, dubious penalties, did the ball cross the line, is it a goal? All these questions and subsequent decisions that have been left to the frailty of the human eye. How pathetic it is that, bearing in mind the financial, emotional and social investment made by the fans and sponsors, the powers that be leave it all to chance. Maradonna’s hand of God, England’s Frank Lampard’s denied goal at the 2010 World Cup and more recently the Ukraine’s disallowed goal - all injustices that spectators could tell were wrong calls within minutes of being made, but that they were forced to live with.

Sport is competitive by nature and that’s what we love about it, so when a guy takes a dive that’s fine with me - he is well within with his right to do so. What is sad is when the authorities refuse to use the resources at their disposal to make the correct decision. The truth is that cheating takes root in the opportunity to exploit or abuse the situation. Modern technology has given us the capacity to look every player in the face and say “Dive if u dare, but when we catch you be ready to do the time!”.

So when the travesty that took place at Stanford bridge happened, with Manchester United being gifted 3 points by bad officiating, I couldn’t believe that the whole world watched and said “this is wrong” only to line ourselves up for the same mistake next time. How can we have world peace when we cannot even be accountable in sport?

Anyway in the EPL the evil patriarch marches on as Manchester United go to the top of the log, Chelsea are licking their wounds and one wonders if this set back will forge titans or give the blue boys a good excuse to sing the blues in particular a famous song titled “We wuz robbed”. Arsenal got the clock turned back to Roman times and felt what Julius Caesar felt when the not-so “noble Dutchman” twisted the knife in their back, reminding us that in this game loyalty has no place and money rules.

Liverpool continue to give their fans a lesson on how to lower your expectations and still get disappointed; yet somehow in all this gloom Suarez’s light is shining brighter than ever, giving Liverpool fans just enough of that deadly stuff - HOPE - to keep believing. Liverpool fans should be allocated high blood pressure pills upon joining the club! Everton continue to be the surprise package of the season with Fellaini pulling a Samson, maybe the power is in the hair. So as I look at the log it's getting familiar, and the old adage “form is temporary, class is forever” rings true. So let’s all count down to the weekend hoping for more epic encounters from our modern gladiators, knowing full well that we are at the mercy of human frailties or worse, Howard Webb!

Check out the log and let me know what your take on football and technology is.

True Soapies for Dudes

The Ewings, the Carringtons, the Giobertis and the Capwells, or more recognizably Dallas, Dynasty, Falcon Crest and the infamous Santa Barbara. There is a phrase known as “must-see TV” which describes riveting plots, an obscenely beautiful cast and loads of money. This combination always makes good TV. In recent times Prison Break, 24 and Desperate Housewives have had families glued to their TV sets week after week wondering what will happen next. Guys don’t usually fall for these badly written and unrealistic stories - they need a bit more to get hooked, but every year between the months of May and August I find myself sucked in.

My weekends are empty and pointless with my adrenaline rushes saved for ZESA bills and dodging in-law visits. It is upon further introspection that I realize during that time that I am an addict - like most men I can’t wait for the next installment of the English Premier League. I get giddy with excitement as the transfer rumor mill kicks off: “will Alex Ferguson retire? Will Ballotelli leave Man City? Will Arsene Wenger stop balancing the books? Is this Liverpool’s year? Will Abromovich buy back the title?”

Like all good soapies we have an evil patriarch refusing to go: Alex Ferguson. Whilst the young turks fuelled by the bottomless pit of oil money “Man City” have their own ideas. After about two months of the season as defending champions, despite their vast resources, they don’t look convincing. It’s as if something is missing. I, for the life of me, cannot figure out what it is, but sadly for them their opponents seem to know exactly what it is. Chelsea are a bit more comfortable with their wealth, riding high and at the moment they seem to have struck the right balance between fortune, ability and form, putting their noses in front in the title race. Perennial under achievers, Arsenal, are making more noise in financial magazines for their profits than explosions on the pitch. At one point one expects them to be in the Top Four only for them to sell their best players at the end of the season, posting healthy profits with no silverware to show for it.

Liverpool have had a difficult start and even its most ardent fans have to agree that it will be a difficult season and that they might have to keep quiet and watch ESPN’s glory days as their best years seem behind them. Sadly, the writer, being a Liverpool fan, has no choice but to begrudgingly accept the underdog tag and hope the script will end in the usual Hollywood manner with the underdog prevailing. So as the traditional giants fight for the throne, teams like Tottenham Hot Spurs and Everton are pushing for their place at the high table with blatant disregard of history. In simple terms these teams will not accept their place in life and want to move up at someone’s expense. On the other hand, Newcastle have lost it all. They once seemed determined to stay up and with Ba and Cisse buoyancy shouldn’t be an issue – in theory.

So as the season progresses with characters like “Brutus” Van Persie twisting the knife in the Gunners’ back and new heroes like Fellaini and Demba Ba coming to the fore, whilst the Gerrards and Rooneys try and remind us that it is the English Premier League despite the lack of Englishmen, it all makes for an entertaining and intriguing watch. In the end I can’t live without my weekly dose of the English Premier League.

The drama, the intrigue, the betrayals, the passion… Ahhh!! To hell with it this is soapies for dudes, and I’m hooked. For all those interested this is what the log looks like; let’s hope when I next talk to you it will have changed.

Quit Ye Like Men…

Life is hard. And whilst we all have our crosses to bear, there are those whose burdens seem lighter than others and there are those whose shoulders clearly stand no chance against what they have to carry.

For years I have believed that a man’s character is his fate and, come what may, good will prevail over evil, but of late my mantra has seemed inadequate. What kind of men are Wayne Rooney, Bill Clinton, Ronaldo? Are they going to get their dues or are they the 5% that make up the exception to the rule?

Being ever the pragmatic and optimistic one, I decided to carry out a social experiment where I would find the coolest oke from my Form One class and also find the prick of that class and see how they were doing. Obviously, coming up with the two candidates that met the criteria involved calling up a lot of old school mates, which unearthed new candidates. I finally settled on two chaps: a warm, popular, sporty and sincere chap who lit up the classroom by his presence,  and the other guy  a sulky fellow with the mannerisms of a spider and the hair to match. After settling on the two candidates it was with great sadness that I found out that the nice guy had passed away. He had fallen on hard times and there wasn’t anyone who had truly kept in touch with him and thus he was gone. As for Spiderman, he is a prominent banker with a local bank (explains the problems in the banking sector), seemingly doing well; a man about town.

So what does this mean? What were these men’s characters and is their fate true to their nature?  I am not sure. In a bid to make sense of it all I Google the Chivas Regal soliloquy  - Live With Chivalry - recite the speech and wonder if the bottle rather than the advert is the solution. As I leave I can’t help but slide back into my mantra: a man’s character is his fate. Or perhaps his fate determines his character? Either way, Carpe Diem – the present is a gift!

- Quit ye like men. Be strong!

Till next time in the words of Johnny Drama : vic-to-ry!

My weapon of mass instruction

My wife has been hounding me to blog and I've finally decided to give it a shot. Watch this space...