As a professional editor
who sees a lot of stories, one of the things I say all the time is avoid clichés
– they are lazy prose! So, with that in mind, we set a challenge in our writing
group in Bangor North Wales to write something all in clichés to show just how
much we use them in everyday language and given the topical nature of this
piece my Jessica I could not resist requesting it for the website to share with
you all!
There is currently a
controversy about the venue selected for the 2022 World cup. FIFA have selected
Qatar, a small gulf state. There was widespread surprise at this choice and
concerns have been expressed that Qatar is not a footballing nation, that the climate
is unsuitable and that it does not have a suitable infrastructure. The
tournament must be played in the hottest summer months to avoid disruption for
northern European nations. The Qatari government response is that they are
building enclosed venues, which will be air-conditioned. However this
technology is unproven. Sponsors are greatly concerned and there is pressure on
FIFA to look again at this decision. The Sunday
Times has been uncovering allegations of bribery.
World Cup 2022 Qatar? You’ve Got
to be Joking
Jessica Madge
Lager
To be honest with you
I’m gutted about this Qatar world cup cock-up. Sick as a parrot to tell you the
truth. And I’m not the only one to be fed up to the back teeth that FIFA voted
for this half-baked idea.
For
a kick off everyone knows you’ve gotta play a world cup at the height of
summer. You don’t have to be particularly on the ball to know that. Cos stands
to reason, it puts the cat amongst the pigeons in all the leagues in Europe if
the top players are off gallivanting just when the proverbial is hitting the
fan. So the clubs back home are going to be spitting tacks.
And
you don’t need a brain the size of a planet to work out that it’s going to be
so hot in Qatar in the summer that you could fry an egg on the pavement. It’s
going to be hot enough to melt the balls of a brass monkey. The players will be
dropping like flies. Rio will look like a walk in the park. Yes, I know the
Qataris say they are building state of the art air-conditioned stadiums and
that will put everything straight. But, well, sands of Arabia and all that –
it’s a scorching hot desert and it’s never been done before and the players
could find themselves busting their balls in a stadium that’s as hot as hades.
I mean I know when the going gets tough the tough get going, but there are
limits. It’s making my blood boil just thinking about it.
And
then there’s us fans. Us lads are not used to queuing in the sweltering heat. I
mean we all want our place in the sun but out there we’ll be wilting like dying
swans and falling apart at the seams.
For
fuck sake, didn’t those FIFA chaps talk about the elephant in the room. Surely
they couldn’t kid themselves that Qatar in June was going to be as cool as a
cucumber.
And
there is another fly in the ointment. Correct me if I’m wrong – but Arabs don’t
know their arse from their elbow when it comes to football. They don’t
understand it and they’re not going to know how to organize a proper football
piss up in fucking brewery, let alone a desert. Pubs are like hens’ teeth over there.
And a decent pint is going to be as rare as rocking horse droppings. They don’t
do having a few and getting rat-arsed – it’s against their religion. So I just
can’t see that they are going to bend over backwards to keep us fed and watered
or turn a blind eye when we’re having a bit of a laugh. There’s going to be
hell to pay.
And
they don’t do women either. So I don’t suppose there’ll be all those Russian
working girls shipped in, like there was in Germany. God! Was that was in 2006?
Doesn’t time fly, seems like yesterday?
So
what are we going to do all day? All dressed up and nowhere to go. Kick our
heels in our hotel rooms? Let me guess – they won’t even have porn channels to
help us scratch the itch.
My
stomach is all tied up in knots just thinking about it.
It’s
as plain as the nose on your face that the FIFA vote for Qatar was a stitch up.
And now, couple of years later, it’s all coming out and the dirty laundry is
being well aired. I’m scratching my head wondering why it took quite so long
for the skeletons to come out of the closet. Everyone’s acting like it was a
big surprise. Didn’t take a genius to work out that all the committee members
were lining their pockets like it was going out of fashion. Everyone knew they
all had their hands in the cookie jar and their snouts in the trough. Even my
gran knows FIFA’s bent as a two bob note. Take bribes? I mean do bears shit in
the woods? Is the pope a catholic? I just hope that at the end of the day they
get their just deserts, oops, I mean desserts. Don’t suppose they will though,
but pigs might fly.
I
suppose the only light at the end of the tunnel is that with all this shit
going down, there could be a re-match on who gets to push the boat out and host
the tournament. And you never know your
luck, there’s a glimmer of hope that England might be in with a shout. Now that
would be a turn up for the books.
About the Author
Jessica Madge lives in North Wales and has published an
ebook: Your Intelligent Immune System.
She is currently working on a medically related self-help book but enjoys
writing other genres for relaxation.
No comments:
Post a Comment