Thursday, April 16, 2009

Why Robinho and myself are a pair of *Do Nothing* geniuses

I think the word might actually be *geniuii* - the plural of genuis - isn't that what happens with yer Latin words? No. Maybe not.

So. Robinho and I. He is a quite famous Brazillian footballer who wears the kit of Manchester City FC (and usually a fetching little blue polo neck jumper & gloves). And used to suck his thumb when he used to score goals.

I am the fellow writing this gumpf. Both of us should probably be spending our time more wisely but aren't. We've done better things in the past...

I should probably explain the footbally chap in case an alien is reading. (If a yawny non-footy fan was reading they've probably already left.) Robinho is a friendly young man that gets paid lots and lots of money to play for my favouritest team. The Manchester team that less people have heard of. Robinho hadn't heard of em himself, but late last summer the club suddenly got v. rich when a middle eastern fella took over and footy players like Robinho suddenly got a bit interested. Some of the more rich, clever ones heard about City, but weren't that interested, but Robbie Robinho fancied a challenge. Or so he said.

Robinho: I'll be world's best at City

Where he'd get the challenge of playing for a rich but unsuccessful club. Where he would get picked every week. No matter how rubbish he played. And he could go out on his nights off to nightclubs in Leeds and get accused of sexual misconduct. But he's a footy player so that sort of thing is par for the course. And the accusations were dropped. So forget about that. Forget about Pele accusing him of being a 'drug abuser' as well. Cos there's no evidence for that either. People don't like success or something. Or something. And then he ran away from some training sessions in Tenerife cos he wanted to go home. He got fined £320,000 - which is either a week's wages or two weeks' or perhaps a day's. I'm not sure. Details, details.

Here's what you need to know about Robinho

He is most famous not for what he does with the ball, but what he doesn't do with it:
  • He's very good at *Dummies* - that's where he pretends to kick the ball but doesn't.
  • He's very good at *Running into space* - that's when he runs into a space where the ball isn't.
  • He's very good at *Looking a bit sad* - that's when he stands over to one side where the ball isn't & looks a bit sorry for himself.
  • But most of all he is known as *The Step-over King*!!!!!!! Yes. That is where he has the ball in front of him and does a bit of Irish Dancing next to the ball - magically without actually touching it. It's like what Michael Flattley does but with added running and having a ball nearby. It's a real skill. Hoppitty, hoppitty, skip - his feet go bibbly bobbly wiggly woggly over the ball. The opposition defender looks at the fast dancing legs, feels a bit seasick and has to go off for a bit of a lie down. Hurrah! Robinho's job is done. So he usually just falls over at this point.
  • He's very good at *Falling over* - this is where he falls over in the opposition penalty area and hopes that referee will feel sorry for him and give him a *Penalty kick*. He will probably step over that and let someone else take it.

So that's that. He's a virtual footballer - a meta-magician of the 4th dimension of no-ball touching football skills. He's like a 3-card Monte street hustler but with a ball & legs. He wiggles his legs so fast the defender just can't tell what's leg & what's ball. Remarkable!!!

Except. He can't really be bothered any more. He's not that fond of playing for the blues. He kinda thinks it's all a bit beneath him. That he's wasting his time. That he's too good for this terrible tortured life he is living... He's sort of on strike. (But without the terrible crushing lack of pay that a proper *strike* would involve). He's just not bothering that much any more in the hope that no one will notice. And that it will soon be the end of the season.

And that's where I come in. I know how he feels. 3 stupid essay/assignment thingys to do. Very little desire to do em. I'm a genius! At stepping over the pile of notes on my bedroom floor. I'm the essay notes Step-over King. And I've very good at telling people that the essays are going well. That I'm trying my best. But like Robinho, I've kind of lost the will to live as far as these piddling essays are concerned. They're not hard. You don't have to be clever to do em. You just have to do em. And I canna be bothered. I should be doing something more useful! More worthy of my vast talents! I'm wasting my time - when I'm wasting my time not doing them! And I'm wasting my time when I am actually making a token effort to do em! Pah.

So I've got no right to have a go at the little Brazillian fella. We all have things we don't wanna do. No matter how easy they might seem to an outsider. In theory I could get really good marks. But if I actually try then I run the risk of failure; so much better to just avoid doing stuff and carry on thinking I'm the greatest writer in the known world (of daft essays).

But there you go, I've outted myself now. It's out there. I'm a fake and a sham and a theoretical genius - providing I never actually finish anything. So now I guess I have to do the essays and report back when I've done them. If only to try and regain some self-respect after writing such a convoluted and dull bloggage.

Whereas you Robinho are expected to score 3 goals in your next match. I will be taking a break from stepping over my pile of essay notes. I will be watching. Sitting on a cold, uncomfortable blue plastic seat, smelling of beer and shouting my mouth off.

Robinho, if you score 3 goals, I will write 3 essays in 3 days. I challenge you, sir, to challenge me. Help us both prove that we can do more than just avoid doing stuff.


  1. oh dear. Never make a deal like that. Should Robinho fail to score three goals, and you haven't done your essays, you will feel that familiar feeling of blame that you didn't do your bit as a fan.

    You know. You inadvertently drink from the wrong mug prematch. Your team loses. You know, really know, that it was your fault. The wrong mug goes in the bin. You'll never let them down like that again.

    And you've done a deal! Robinho may need the impetus of seeing you keep your side of the deal, BEFORE he can keep his side.

    Don't let them down. You'd feel ever so bad.

  2. I wrote some essay. Robinho tried quite hard. But it's all moot. Moot!

    I don't even like football. It's rubbish. Never liked it. Cricket, I like. And carpet bowls. And frogger. And pro-celebrity mud wrestling with Boris Johnson and Jacqui Smith. Never mention football to me ever again. But inflatable bananas they're good. And going to a football match with an inflatable paddling pool and a lilo, that's good. The giant inflatable penis was perhaps going a little too far.