What makes a man? Is it the power in his hands? Is it his quest for glory? These are all fascinating questions, for sure. But right now, I'm more interested in in a different question.
What makes a twat?
And you know what, when I stare long and hard at the jaundiced, hammer-featured, sloping criminal-foreheaded skull of inexplicable England captain John Terry (marks off immediately for falling into the selfish England international habit of having two first names), I get to the heart of the matter pretty quickly.
There are a number of key reasons why John Terry is the embodiment of the consummate modern urban twat.
Here are a few of them;
1) He's dishonest. 'Mr Chelsea' refuses to just come out and say he wants the money of uberc*nt Garry Cook and his legion of Arab investors at Man City. Consequently, he's inspiring dishonesty in the likes of the hitherto admired Mark Hughes, who is having to keep a straight face while cracking out lines such as, "It is not a question of finance, or money, it is about a different challenge, and John being at a different stage in his life and his career". PLEASE!
2) He has a total lack of class. Lacking the erudition of many of his contemporaries (translation - Graeme Le Saux), John Terry epitomises the bland face of cliche-ridden English professional football, spouting platitude after platitude about "the lads done this..." and "at the end of the day" on one hand, whilst on the other somehow getting away with being the Noughties face of post-Roy Keane referee-intimidation. And he pissed on a bar.
3) He's actually quite shit. Everyone knows that Rio Ferdinand is miles better on the ball, is a more natural footballer and has massively more curly lips. At club level, he has been carried by Ricardo Carvalho, whilst Alex is clearly much harder, much quicker and looks much more like Danny from Hear'say (forget the apostrophe at your peril). In fact, a Sky Sports stats breakdown the other day proved that in the last couple of seasons, Chelsea have a higher win ratio, and a better defensive record without Terry in the team. Sadly, the number that Millie Clode/Natalie Sawyer/the other one etc... gave to me in All Bar One the other day doesn't work, so I can't confirm those figures just yet.
4) He's the modern embodiment of this country's retrograde obsession with "passion" as a key component of success. But unlike the genuinely rabid Stuart Pearce, or the kind of man who exhibits the brand of "passion" that you simply wouldn't bother arguing with (fast forward to 1:57 and howl with laughter at his impassioned defence of his actions), Terry carries out his own version of passion in a softly-spoken, insidious, bloodless, corporate yet mechanically thuggish fashion.
And if ... if you were thinking that all this was just an excuse to post one of my favourite YouTube vids ever, then you'd be half right. But my God, is it worth it... AC
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1 comment:
This is the best piece of social commentary I've read in a long time. Mr Clark, congratulations.
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