Summers where the year ends in an odd number always drag. Summers that end with an even number offer a football season that never ends, with the prospect of either the European Championships or the World Cup.
As it’s 2009, there is no summer of football beyond speculation and gossip. This holds my attention, but is nothing compared to the full 90 minutes.
Instead I find myself flicking through the back pages of the newspaper, past the golf, cricket, tennis and other summer sports of limited interest to me, in search of anything to give me a fix of the football drug that I crave. Of course I’m interested in what ever little morsels I can find, but it’s just not the same as watching the real thing.
Sure, seeing your teams new kit, for better or worse, holds an intrigue and it’s interesting to see the top quality list of players your club is reportedly interested in signing, before you make a last minute panic bid for Emile Heskey.
There is though no glimpse of other countries playing on the big stage. No emergence of new talent. No crazy matches in baking heat inside a grand stadium with a carnival atmosphere. Perhaps the only benefit is that there’s no disappointment at getting knocked at the quarter-final stage. Again.
To feed those football urges I could show you a clip of all my favourite moments from the beautiful game that made me fall in love with football in the first place. Instead here’s something that truly warms my football cockles and puts me in a good enough mood that I can cope with the month before the Premier League gets going once again.
So here it is, liquid football at its best.
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