Wednesday, August 22, 2007

children of the revolution

hello Bury fans!

wow! fourth place in the table and I’ve missed it all as i’ve been to a few music festivals recently and thoroughly enjoyed sleeping in mud and piss. reminded me of being back home in Nigeria but we didn’t need music as an excuse to go next door and have a shit.

that was the problem in regards to youngsters learning to play football in the villages of my home country. most places had a football pitch but they were covered in excrement, dead animals and cannibals. so just like in Rochdale, we found it difficult to find a place to train.

the range of t-shirts at the music festivals has been tremendous. they ranged from the retro tight brown skinny fit with pictures of Bob Marley or the Beatles to more modern types with the Killers or Snow Patrol written across the front. i even saw somebody wearing a
King Sunny Ade t-shirt, perhaps the most famous Nigerian singer ever to leave the country. his 'Odu' album was nominated for Best World Music album at the Grammy awards in 1999. but that’s history now and I fully embrace the more modern European forms of music.

one t-shirt did puzzle me though. on the back it said AFC Rochdale (a possible attempt to get their name to the top of a league table at some point in a season?) but as I went around to the front to get a better look it said “Keith Hill took us to 9th place. Long live Keith Hill.”

the young lad, no more than 13 or 14 years old caught me staring at his t-shirt and spitting red stripe out at me he said in a thick Rochdale accent “Yeah? Yeah? It’s a revulsion!”

one night I was sat outside my tent when this beautiful girl strolled past with a can of cider in her hand. i stopped her as she almost sat down on my Ginsters® Cornish pasty. within minutes I thought she was infatuated with me as she couldn’t take her eyes off this black knight. she really was a stunner. we don’t have that sort of girl back home in Nigeria, most of them either don’t, can’t or aren’t allowed to wash.

we continued chatting. thoughts of my girl back in Manchester were gone and I said “had the price of looking at your eyes been blindness…I would have looked.” she looked at me in horror. “i had no f**king choice” she screamed, “I was born this way” at which point she tried to get up and stumbled away with her dog.

i saw that same dog an hour later, humping the leg of the teenage boy I’d met earlier on. i don’t think he could believe his luck.

good luck Bury fans!

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