Go On The Fucking County

There I was on my couch yesterday afternoon, hung over, getting stuck into a day of football. I just watched Arsenal take Blackburn and I was sitting comfortably and ready to get stuck into Jeff Skilling and the lads for Super Soccer Saturday. We were watching the Chelsea v Stoke game on the laptop aswell; it was quite obsessive now that I think of it. Within the first twenty minutes of kick off of the 3 o clock games, Notts County, my newly promoted sweet hearts, were 3 - 0 down for the third time this season. This was starting to annoy me.

Last season, Notts County beat all kinds records in League 2 - scoring a record 93 points & a record 96 goals and winning promotion in some serious fucking style. They are finally back in League 1, a place they sadly left in 2004. I thought, we'll probably hang around League 1 for a couple of seasons and maybe, with a bit of luck, after a while, find ourselves in the Championship.

The season kicks off with Hudderfield and we get fucking hockied 3-0, okay, understandable, first game of the season, they are playing one of the favourites to win the league this year. Understandable.

The second game is a Carling League Cup first round game and we are against Plymouth, a championship team, this game is a bit more optimistic and we manage to take them 1-0and we are in their ground. Okay, the first game was obviously a complete fuck up.

Second league game, Oldham athletic, okay, we could take these cunts. Oldham have always been a team I could never respect, they have no personality, we'll take from the Plymouth game and start kicking ass. Ninty minutes later, we were 3-0 down - no points - Minus 6 six goal difference, for fuck sake. This is not a good start. The League Cup is good but lets face it, we're not gonna win it. We gotta think about getting wins under belt.

Next game is Dagenham and Redbrige, the daggers, I don't even know where this club is, and it is 2 towns, we are the city of Nottingham, think about it, if those 2 towns had to come together to make a club, the places must be fucking tiny. Lets go, off the mark 3 points. It is a long 90 minutes but we manage to get an 82 minute winner. Get in there, points on the board. Get in there.

Time for the 2 round of the League Cup and we are taking on another Championship club - Watford. We are away to a club that only recently got relegated from the premiership. This will probably be our exit. Half time it is 0-0, grand, kick off the second half and Ben Davis gets a sweet header pretty much immediately for County and it is all too fucking play for. 10 minutes, bang! Ben Burgess get a second one for County - Holy Shit, we are actually gonna win this bad boi. The game finishes 2-1 and we draw the Premier League's Wolves in Round 3. Savage, bring it on. This season is starting to pick up.

I then come back to yesterday afternoon and we are 3-0 down to Bournemouth after 20 minutes, for fuck sake. We get back one before half time. Here is hoping. 60th minute - no score - 70th - no luck - 80th minute - still nothing - 90th minute - still 3-1. That is pretty much it. Oh, County get a 91st minute consolation goal to make it 3-2 and hold it . . . . . hold it. . . . 93rd minute goal - it's 3-3, get in there you little fucking beauty. This season is gonna be alright after all.

Come on County!

30 Years of the Springboks

The day has come, that long awaited moment has happened for my good mate, Greg Spring. He has finally reached the mature and virile age of 30. 30 years of age. This is significant for me as well, as it marks that I myself have only 6 months of my twenties left to enjoy because it happened when Greg turned 18, it happened when Greg turned 21 and still to this day he is 6 months older than me. I know Greg for about 18 of those years and when I think of it he hasn’t aged a day. The way he looks today is the way he looks in my head the day we met. I am extremely proud and honoured to have known him for majority of his life so in celebration of his 30th year I am dedicating a blog to the growdiest chunfella in Dublin.

I think for us to enjoy and experience the next thirty years of Gregory Paul Spring, we must look back at the last thirty years of Gregory Paul Spring. To truly understand what this man is about. To get into his head, what makes him tic. To have a quick look into the mind of the individual that brought you sayings like chun-a-gred, tweeders, grauwd, HHHooolllaanndd is it and sticking 'ways' at the end of pretty much every word in the English language.

A lot of things happened in August 1980, ABBA were Top of the Pops with ‘The Winner Takes It All’, People in Texas were having a terrible old time with Hurricane Allen, poor auld Mohammad Reza Pahlavi kicked the bucket, promoters in the USSR finally got to bring over a rock band for the first time in there countries history and Nerds were still cuing up in their droves to see Empire Strikes Back but something a little more exciting was happening in a little old suburban town of London, called Surrey. Gregorious Springus was about to enter the world. Born to a very proud Tony and Roz Spring at 3:25 in morning. Weighing in at a healthy 4 pounds, 3 ounces, the nurses knew as she cleaned him off that there was something special about this one. Who in the world could possibly have cuter dimples than this little growd.



Greg eventually grew from a baby into a little boy with the most hilarious haircut in the world, I got onto to Laura, his sister, to scan the photo and send it over to me to put up but sadly she doesn't have a scanner in her gaf.

Even though Greg was a Londoner through and through, he found his love with a football team that he had no association with - Liverpool FC, Tony, who is a die hard Fulham fan, must of been livid. Surrey is also the place where Greg found his love of the English team which many believe he still has to this day. He has recalled many times to me and his mates, his meeting with Matt Le Tissier and with typical cockney cheek, he ran up to Le Tissier and asked




'Mista Le Tissier, Mista Le Tisser, Why won't you ever make the England Team?'

And Matt simply replied

'Coz Bobby Robson thinks I'm too lazy, son.'

In 1991, Greg and his family moved to the mysterious island to the left of England, the homeland of his mother, Roz. He had vague memories of going over to see aunties and uncles but nothing would prepare him for what was about to happen on the mean streets of Rathfarnham in South Dublin.

Within his first week of arriving in Rathfarnham, Greg would make a significant trip to Talking Heads barbers off the Grange Road, this is a significant moment in Greg's life as he would never change this hair style for the rest of his life. It would remain the same for pretty much the next 19 years.

In 1993, Greg entered De Le Salle College in Churchtown to begin his secondary level education, a place where he would encounter some of the teachers that would go on to inspire Greg to this day. Mr. MacSherry, Dave Harding, Mr. Masterson and, of course, the one, the only Chaz.



The Class of 1-3 is where Greg would meet some of the mates he still has to this day - Davey Dwyer, Kieth Downes, Barry Collins, Stuart Doyle and it was through our muturel love of smoking that me and Greg's paths were crossed. Myself, Barry Collins and Davey formed us a band, called JIP. We would be going on about the band and Greg has told me many times that he longed to be a member. ‘He was so jealous of the band.’

Greg's teenage years pretty much consisted of a few things - De La Salle, The Green, Enniskerry, Wesley, . . . . Have I forgetting anything . . . . No, I don't think I have.

The Willbrook Green was the place where we perfected our football skills and I remember distinctly a very heated game of '3 And In' between myself and the Gregmiester, it went on for about a half an hour. I challenged, he excepted, . . . . . . . . He won 3-2. . . . . He such a competitive bastard, ask anyone, beating him at anything feels better than anything else in the world. I will continue to try.



The Green was also a place for hidings and leggin it from hidings for Greg, myself and our chums. We would be enjoying our 15th game of 'Heads N Vollies' of the day and Jamers, Micko and Stobber would pop around for a bit of a chat . . . and a few slaps. Many a time Greg was victim to a fair search, key word here is ‘fair’.

The green eventually was our drinking ground, a place where Greg would prove to be the meanest fucking drunkard the planet has ever seen, a trait that he has some how shaken. In fact I can’t remember the last time I've seen Greg completely bollixed. Ye know, tripping over himself drunk. I have an image of Greg passed out, face down on my oul'pairs living room floor at about 9 o clock at night and my pair were home at about 10. My brother is screaming at me to get this fucking mess out of the gaf. I then remember lugging Greg up to his gaf, me and Franko, leaning him against the door, ringing the bell and legging it. Me and Franko turned around to see Greg's Ma opening the door and Greg falling in after the door. All we could here was - 'Greg, are you alright. Greg'



This behaviour brought us to our next port of call - Wesley. Wesley, probably one of the greatest places. Greg was in Disneyland. I can't really go into any details here but all I can say is TFW. Every Friday we used to gobble our nags on the 48a and in we go with our fake Wesley memberships. Pornography is the only word that can describe what went on in there. It was fuckin savage. After about 2 years, we all evolved to Bectiv where, in terms of the pornography, the bar was raised. Eventually it got a bit scauldy so we began our treks into town.

Out of the blue, one day, I get a call from a bird that I used to know from Wesley, asking if me and the lads wanted to come down to Enniskerry to have a bit of crack, have some cans. 'Fuckin right' I said. I tell Greg and the lads, off to Enniskerry we went willies in hand. It was probably one of the best days of our lives. We went down to be greeted by a massive gang of birds, not a bloke in site. We all got our score on but never had I ever heard of a man getting raped by a bird until that day, and a bald bird at that. Greg was taken advantage of. He was passed out and whilst passed he was accosted sexually. I believe there was a very brief pregnancy scare that soon proved to be false. But it was one of my fondest Greg memories.



A couple of years later when we were about 17, myself and Davey started going out with these girls from Alexander College and a few of these girls mates were very quick to warm to the Springboks, three of them if I'm not mistaken. Over a period of a month, he went out with 3 of them. He was with the first and lost interest pretty quickly, was then going out with her mate the following week and then thought it would be a great idea to not break up with that mate and just start seeing another one at the same time. It was very impressive if you ask me and these birds were hot too. Here was the first sign of the Spring Womanizing Skills kicking into gear. The funny thing was he got away with it. When it all transpired what was going on with these two birds, everyone was cool. They all remain mates to this day including Greg.

Which brings me to another story of Greg getting away with murder. It was warm summer’s night in about July. Greg, myself and the lads were stumbling home from Revels in Rathfarnham Village at about half one. We stroll in through Fonthill which is a short cut home and we discover this JCB, well, it's more like a thing that spreads tarmac. The thing is fuckin huge. There is a dude who is supposed to be watching the fucker who is asleep in a car, he will rue the day he ever fells asleep on the job again. Before you can say, 'way too much to drink', Gal and Greg were in the cockpit of this thing, have started the bad boy up, have lost complete control of the thing and were now beelining for this big fucking gaf. We all stand, holding our breath as we see our 2 mates mill through the front garden wall, into the garden and if it wasn't for the big fucking tree in the front garden, the digger would have been in the suiting room of this house. I have this memory of running up the road beside Greg and the 2 of us are nearly shitting in our kacks with the laughter. The next day we swing by the gaf and there is the owner of the house scratching his head, looking at the digger.



After school, Greg disappeared off to Taunten in Summerset for a couple of years, why? I, still to this day, do not know, neither does he. His oul lad got him this job in his mate’s warehouse. Obviously, Greg felt reminisant of the last story when he was left alone in the warehouse and thought it would be a great idea to jump into a forklift truck that he thought he could drive. Now, to say he lost control of the thing would be an understatement. Not only did he loose control but in doing that he completely wrecked a massive warehouse of stock. There is an image that I will never be able to get rid of as long as I live and it is Greg in this forklift, crying, as it destroying everything in the place.

With his time in England, Greg had 3 memorable relationships - Lisa, Louise and more importantly, Murph. Murphy Spring came along about 9 years ago and as of yet there has never been a bird that even compares to Murph in Greg’s life. Never have I ever seen a man and his cat have an intelligent conversation like Greg and Murph. I've seen them have an argument, like a full blown row.

Eventually, Greg was ready to come home to Ireland and he was bringing Murph with him. I was living in this gaf in Temple Bar, I had just had a whopper session in my place. It was a savage night at Thursday Backlash in Wax. I was only getting started clubbing at this stage, Greg wasn't into it at all. It had been all pubs, the shit clubs and never getting your hole up to that point. I get a phone call -



'Jacko, what's the crack? It's Greg.'

'Fuckin hell, man, what is the story with you?'

'I'm home for good, man. Fancy meeting up.'

'Yeah,'

About 4 hours later, me and Greg are having a coffee in Hag N Daz ice cream parlour in Temple Bar and we discuss what he is thinking of doing?

'I'm thinking of going for this job in Anglo Irish Bank.'

'Sweet, My mate Sean Ryman works there, defo take that, bro. I hear they’re a very reputable bank' !!!!!!!!!

Greg ended up taking the job and from there, pretty much the pair of us have been meeting up every weekend to get sessioned the fuck out of it and it has been the crack. Too many laughs to even comprehend and it continues to this day and tonight should not be any different. I can't wait to celebrate my best mates 30th tonight, it is gonna be fucking savage. Get there you little beauty.

Happy Birthday Greg, see you tonight for an insane amount of crack . . . . . back to yours after, yeah.

Zog This!

This is a short little blog about a certain player I think should be on a lot of manager wish lists in this transfer window. He has just announced that he wants to be transfered and I think he is a real prospect to be a success at a top club.

Charles N'Zogbia was one of those players that I never really considered as an amazing player at Newcastle, I think it was that I never realised his age, he was only a kid back then. The guy signed for Newcastle in 2004 at the age of 17, the last signing made by Bobby Robson and before he knew it he was a first team regular, playing 41 games and scoring 6 goals in his first season. He had another sweet following season but was being played more so in the left back role, a position that he can still play in to this day. He only managed to score 3 goals in 05/06 but was being eyed up as potential utility player by the likes of Arsenal. I believe the only reason he never really excelled beyond Newcastle in these days was the arrival of Duffer, who pretty much took his position and he warmed the bench under Glenn Roeder for a season and a half. The next season, of course, was the faithful mess of a season where Newcastle faltered to the Championship.

But now at the maturing age of 24, Charles N'Zogbia, in his first season for Wigan Athletic, he has been awarded both their Players' Player of the Year and Fans' Player of the Season for 09/10. Wigan bought him for a bargain price of 8 million quid, what a fucking bargain. He went on to play 49 games last season, scored 6 goals and in that 3-2 come back against Arsenal, he showed some serious leadership qualities. Also now that the French International team has got someone with a brain at the helm, there is no doubt he will be featuring heavily over the next couple of years for them.

I think N'Zogbia would fit into the Arsenal set-up brilliantly, contesting on that left side and also as good cover for Clichy in left back. Also with Everton, he would be good competition for the likes of Bilyaletdinov on the left also cover for Leighten Baines in defence. Anyway, enough of me blowing smoke up this cunts arse . . . . . I'm hungry.

Poor Aisling

I just read a hilarious article about one of the Xpose girls on TV3 where a couple of lads from Cork put up a facebook page which was entitled 'Get Rid of Aisling O’Loughlin from Xposé'. It obviously gathered up a significant amount of support because she is not happy about it in the slightest. Supposedly, she was so fuming that she has gone and looked for legal advice, threatened to go to the gardi because she has claimed that she has become a victim of cyber bullying at the hands of the cheeky Cork facebookers.

I'm sorry, Aisling, I don't know if you smell the ironic cup of coffee here but I would like to remind you that you are a host on a show call Expose, one of the most reprehensible tabloid shows that has ever graced Irish screens. You do nothing but report on celebrities private lives and engross yourself in gossip whether it be positive or negative. Once it's something that you're cretiness audience might be into, you stick it in there, it doesn't matter to you and now you have the balls to give out when someone has something to say about you. Would you ever get out of it!

Another thing that I want to let you know about Aisling is, you are a celebrity now. You are in the public eye. Whether you realise it or not, you are on television now and that means you are a celebrity, an Irish celebrity. You are going to be in the tabloids. If you put a step wrong, people will write about it. If you are bad at your job, people will slag you. Look at Pat Kenny, do you think every time he got a slagging, he ran to the police. No, he is in the public eye; he takes it on the chin every time. Get some thick skin and take your scalding, it’s a part of the life you’ve chosen.

I would have loved to have heard the conversation with your lawyer.

'Eh, ooh my god, people are, like, slagging me on facebook, what's the crack with me, like, suing them?'

'What?'

'A load of feckin ejjits on facebook are slagging me and I want to, like, nip this in the bud, like, asap.

'Sorry, Aisling, you're in the public eye, it's called free press. If you put yourself out there, people are going to have an opinion on you. Just like you have an opinion on all the celebrities you have on your show.'

'Oh, it's like the same thing is it?'

'Yeah, it is the same thing.'

The bottom line is, if Aisling O’Loughlin wants this slagging to stop, she could look at the reasons why she is getting it in the first place. I have had the pleasure of seeing her in action a number of times and she is priceless. She obviously does no research on her subjects. Here are a few Aisling classics

1. She is interviewing the actor who is playing Spock in the new Star Trek movie. At the end of the interview she says 'Well, thank you for meeting with me and I think there is only one thing left to say, May the force be with you.'

2. She is doing the celebrity news – ‘Pamela Anderson is in Dublin signing copies of her new autobiography, sadly, she was not accompanied by her on and off husband Tommy Lee Jones.’

They are just two that come to mind from the anthology of Aisling O’Loughlin quotes. Look, the bottom line is the whole TV3 station is a joke, she is not alone in there, she is not alone on that show of hers. Where do you guys think you are living? You are living in Ireland, one of the most cynical places in the world, if you are on television you are going to get a slagging, your show is awful, what do you expect. Never was the phrase ‘You reap what you sow’ more perfect for a person working on Expose.

Enemy of my Plate

Here I am sitting in on a nice Tuesday night, hoping to watch a sweet ass action movie. Me and Tara watched Clockwork Orange last night so tonight we thought we would see if there was something on that wasn't going to freak Tara out so much. I stick on Saving Private Ryan which is on Film Four, thinking that Tara would fancy it. Since getting home from Berlin, she has been obsessed with World War 2. We don't make it through the first scene so we stick on Enemy of the State, starring Will Smith over on TV3. It has been absolutely ages since I've seen this beauty and a bit of Bruckheimer easy going action was exactly what the doctor ordered.

We are about half way through watching it and we realised that this story is completely ridicules and I'm not talking about all the mad surveillance stuff. That is the best part about the movie, all that shit with satellites looking down on us, amazing. No, I'm talking about the story; there is no reason for any of the madness that goes on throughout the movie. None of it.

Basically, this is the story. Some US Senator played by Jason Robards is walking his dog by a lake and he is having a conversation with John Voight who is playing one of these heads of the NSA who wants to bring in this law where there will be 24 hours surveillance on the public but Jason Robards' character doesn't want to pass it so John Voight then has him killed right there and then by one of his goons.

One of the strangest things about this whole movie, before I go any more into the mental story, is the casting, especially the casting of the NSA goons. All of them are actors you know from comedies, they are not exactly the run of the mill NSA types - Jack Black, Seth Green, Jamie Kennedy, Spike Jones, that Irish actor Ian Hart what he is doing there I will never know, Scott Caan who played one of those twins in Ocean 11, Jake Busey who is Gary Busey's son, he is a skinnier, lankier version of his oul fella and the only other movie I can think of seeing him in is Starship Troopers, which is one opf the funniest films of all time. The only one I can take, in any way, seriously is Barry Pepper who is up there as being one of the most serious actors in the history of film. In fact, I don't recall seeing that chun ever smile in a film. He always has that moany head on him.

Back to the story, anyway, they kill your man but unbeknownst to them at the time, comedy actor (another one), Jason Lee from My Name is Earl is filming birds from the other side of a lake. He films the whole thing, the whole murder. They spot him picking up the camera during the chaos of police and press when the body is found and they follow him. Now, this is the part I can’t explain. Jason Lee gets home and obviously can’t wait to checkout the birds he has filming for the last couple of weeks and the lads don't get to him in time. He sticks in the tape immidiatly as he get home, and the lads are standing outside his gaf with guns, waiting for him. This would have been the simplest way for everyone, get to Jason Lee before he sees the tape, simple. No one dies, No one's life is ruined, no one has to be running around in an ipen dressing gown showing off their abs. Get to him, get the tape and job done, you don't even have to kill him.

Okay, next, Jason Lee ends up seeing it, okay, that happenens. He now has to go, he has to die, that should be no problem, these guys are NSA. He makes a run for it but doesn't last very long. Fair play to him though, he makes a good go at it. He's just a bird watcher and he's up against a load of NSA guys, even if they are the funniest looking bunch of NSA guys in the world, they are still NSA.

Now, we have been also following Will Smiths character who is this high class lawyer who has been trying to bring down the mob, he used to go to college with Jason Lee's character, they both bump into each other while Jason Lee is leggin it from the NSA and he drops the disk into Will Smiths bag. Jason ends up getting milled out of it by a big fucking truck a few seconds later and NSA guys are all - 'Where the fuck is the tape?'

In the mean time, Will Smith gets home with the tape on him and he doesn't know at all. Now, this is the case for the next hour of the film, he doesn't have a clue whats going on. The NSA go over all this footage of Jason Lee legging it to see where he might of stashed the shit and they see him give it to Will Smith through some security camera. They see that Will doesn't notice him putting it in his bag, Savage; all they have to do now, is find out who Will Smith is, find out where he lives and asking him for the material. They do precisely that except for one thing. They don't ask him nicely. Instead of just going into the gaf and politely ask could they have a look into the bag, they just act like a bunch of rude cunts and insult the guy in his own place. He then refuses to show them and they leave as calmly as they came in.

Right, why didn't one of them just kick the shit out Will, the other find the bag which they know the tape is in and grab it, happy days, job done! I thought this was very sensitive material. No, they just stroll out. Why? Why do they do this?

The next half hour of the film is the NSA fucking with Will Smiths life. They bug the fuck out of him and his gaf and he still doesn't know about the tape which, at this stage, his son has found. He then for some reason meets up with Gabriel Byrne, why this character is in the film, I still don't know. I’m sure it's for the simple fact that Jerry Bruckheimer had Gabriel Byrne for 2 days and they thought they might write him a nice little character. He arrives and is Will Smiths mate one minute and then tries to kill him for no reason the next minute. You then never hear of that character being mentioned again for the whole movie. Who is this guy?

But the weird thing for me is this, as soon as he meets up with Gene Hackman, Gene lets him know about all the bugs on him and all of a sudden everyone wants to kill Will Smith, out of no where, they want to kill now where they didn't before. They all just start to chase him around hotels and the streets. I don't know why Will doesn't just stop, turn around and go, 'Why is everyone after me? What the fuck do all you cunts want?' and lets say all the NSA guys finally get Will, what are they going to do? Are they going to kill him? If they do that they will never get the tape back, they will be fucked then. And if they wanted to kill him, why didn't they do it earlier in the movie when they had a chance. It's a bit confusing if you ask me. What is everyone doing? What are they doing? The film is the quintessential Bruckheimer movie, all the bad guys die in ridicules shootout ending where Will Smith survives completely unscaved, there are about 20 explosions throughout the whole thing and it all ends where Will and Gene are completely in the clear. Happy ending.

Just, go, watch it again and you will realise that nobody wants to kill anyone in this movie. They just want the tape. The only 2 people that properly get killed are the Jason Robards character at the start and Lisa Bona character who they kill because they are trying to frame Will Smith for some reason. Jason Lee cycles in front of the truck when being chased so he dies accidentally and Jake Busey ends up starting that big gun fight at the end by accident. There are 3 lessons being learned here in this movie.

1. When being chased, stop running and ask whoever is chasing you, what the crack is.

2. When you want someone to give you something, just ask nicely and they will probably give it to you.

3. Stop watching Jerry Bruckheimer movies because they are fuckin awful.









You can get the rest on You Tube!

Roy For Prez

Let a new day begin for Liverpool Football Club – a new era, a new season, a new manager and hopefully new owners. Owners with a bit of cash and something tells me they’re a club that won’t be loosing the plot, they won’t become a Man City. The fan base just wouldn’t stand for it, there would be absolute up roar.

Torres and Gerard have committed themselves for the foreseeable future. That is some whopper boost for that team’s morale, loosing one of them would have probably unsettled the other and sent Liverpool into mid table misery for the next decade. They were both essential to this next campaign.

Aswell, it doesn’t look like anyone is in too much of a rush to sign Mascharano either, with that 30 million pound price tag around his neck, I don’t know, we are hearing about these connections with Inter but I have a weird feeling that he will be there at Liverpool for the first half of the season at least, and if he goes, ‘So! Who gives a shit?’ Liverpool would then have plenty of cash to then go off and replace him with a more youthful, cheaper, promising defensive midfielder like Lee Cattermole or Nigel De Jong or Tom Huddlestone and if I’m not mistaken they are looking at Christian Poulsen from Juva.

One big loss for Liverpool, I thought, was Yossi Benayoun who was a top player for the club, the only player in my opinion on Liverpool’s bench whoever came off it and made any impact. But if you were to have asked me six months ago whether I would prefair him or Joe Cole on my team, I would of gone Joe Cole every single time. Joe Cole is the ultimate impact player and he will also give them another option when it comes to the formation, it will give Gerard the opportunity to drop back into midfield. I thought Liverpool relied way too much on the Torres / Gerard strike force last year which was one of the main reasons for their season being so unsuccessful. It was their only option. This season it will be different.

They have also made some other very interesting signings. First off, the big Serbian forward, Milan Jovanovic who had good World Cup and what I have seen of him in the 2 legs against that Macadonian team was very impressive; he is very strong and again gives them a completely new option up front. Last season, Liverpool’s attack was all over the gaf and, in my opinion, it has been that way ever since they got rid of Robbie Keane. Yes, they had Torres, one of the best strikers in the world, partnering up with one of the best players the premiership has ever seen, Stevie G but that was about it. You left any sort of support or cover on the bench in the hands of a poor unfortunate 18 year old, Ngog, who in my opinion did alright considering that he’s only a downy chizzler. I’m not even going to bring up Babel, he needs to go asap. Pronto. I just don’t like that player at all. Every time he stood off the bench last season, when Liverpool desperately needed a goal. They would be a goal down against Birmingham at home and up he would stand. I just knew every time, he would go on and do fuck all. That is all different this year. Torres, Jovanovic, Gerrard, Cole, even Ngog, who I think will start to mature after being broken in so harshly last season and lets not forget Dirk but what he has been doing on the wing has been brilliant and is where he belongs, I reckon.

Other signing that I think have been interesting are the signings of 18 years old, Danny Wilson and 17 year old, Jonjo Shelvey (who does not look 17) who are both very well established at their young age. Danny Wilson pretty much played every game for Rangers last season, winning the Scottish treble and also featuring in the Champions League, I think he holds the record for the youngest player ever to feature in the Champions League. Jonjo Shelvey, the youngest player and goal scorer in Charlton Athletic’s history. Last season at the age of 16, he scored 7 goals for Charlton from the central midfield position; I will be looking forward to seeing him grow into the quality player everyone is saying he will become. They will both probably only feature in the FA Cup and Carling Cup but good young cover.

There are some players that featured last season aswell that just had a bad season and with this new era, I think the pressure will now be off and they will surprise people, they will raise their game. Number 1 on the list is Alberto Aquilani. Last season must have been hell for that chunfella. What did they spend? 19 million pounds. For Liverpool to be spending that kind of money, the fans want to see it on the pitch. The bloke, for the first half of the season, just couldn’t shake that injury and for the second, he just couldn’t get into his stride but in a couple of games towards the end of the season, he started to show promise

I also hope Glen Johnson has a good season, I really think in order to do that Roy needs to buy on the right side defence. That guy, Kelly, I don’t know if he is strong enough to contest Johnson’s position. I don’t know who you’d get. Luke Young would be sweet.

But the one man that is going to bring real change to Liverpool is Roy Hodgeson. Their best signing of the summer. The club needed someone like Roy Hodgeson. The team needed it, the club needed it, the fans needed it. What an ideal man to steady the ship. Roy will build a solid team and he will let the players express themselves, something they weren’t allowed do under Benitez. He will hold a personnel relationship with each and every player as aside to treating them like robots. Roy was the best man for that job, there is no doubt in my mind.

I really think Liverpool are going to surprise people this year, I think they are going to be up there and contesting for the title and at 16 / 1 to win the premier league on BetFred.com, lets just say, I know where I will be sticking my money this week. You are never gonna get Liverpool at a better price. You stick a €20 on that; you will take home €320 if it comes in. You stick €50 on it, you take home €800.

I don’t know about you but I can’t fucking wait for this season!

DJ my balls

I want to speak ever so briefly about DJing and what it is to be a DJ. What is your job as a DJ? What’s the point of you even being there? Why don't we just have some chun stick on a playlist at the party or the club? Why are you there? The answer to that question is very simple but there are a lot of people out there that don't know the answer and a lot of them are DJs.

Over the last few years, I've seen some of the best DJs and producers in the world, I've seen them be amazing and I've seen them be absolutely terrible. They went into the club, they got up onto the decks and they either nailed it or they flopped. They were given 2 hours to entertain the crowd with the music that they thought would grab the club by the balls and that was that.

Afterwards you would go to an after party and people would be DJing at these parties. They had a set, the key to the whole thing was that they had a set and the parties were going fuckin wild, they were amazing. Everyone was listening to what was being played, the tunes were being played in good sequence because it was coming from one bloke. He, whoever it might of been, was building up the party with what he thought would hit the spot, he either got it or he didn't. He had the time to do it. That's what made those parties for me, anyway. Now I can't remember the last time I hung out in one of those rooms in a gaf.

Now, I don't know if I'm going to the wrong parties these days or what, but I am seeing less and less of this carry on. All I see at sessions these days are cunts climbing over each other to play the next tune. 'Me Next, Me Next!' There would be a new cunt behind the decks every second tune. Nobody would be listening, the tunes would be all over the place because of the rotation of styles circulating around the fucking decks, to a point that whenever a person would finally find themselves in front of the decks, they are so fucking happy that they have finally gotten there, they don't give a fuck what the buzz is. They cant! After a half hours cuing, playing that tune that they have wanted to play so badly is the only thing on their minds. They don't give a fuck about whether people are gonna want to hear it or not, they just want to play it regardless, whether it suits the buzz or not.

I see this shit going on in a few bars as well, people jumping in and out of the DJ boxes like the clappers, and there is nothing worse when they’re not even doing anything when they are in there, they're just chilling there or are chatting to the dude playing. Get the fuck out from behind the DJ box if you’re not DJing, will ye. There is nothing more annoying to a non DJ than watching a bunch of fucking DJs just hanging around the DJ box, like some little DJ click reminding everyone that they are all DJs, don’t forget now.

Get out of there, what are you doing in there. There should be only one cunt behind those decks, he should be there on his own for his set or else he shouldn't be there at all, we should just stick on an itunes playlist. I've got a few sweet little playlists on my itunes if you fancy, I'll go behind there and press play if you want me to, I'll do it. Get out of there!

King of Kong Documentary

If your looking for a documentary to check out over the next while, get a load of this, King of Kong is the story of this ordinary science teacher from Seattle, married with kids, who has decided one day to try and surpass the highest score in Donkey Kong which has been held for 25 years by one the most respected video gamers in the world. It was recommended to by my mate, Emmet, there about a month ago, I never thought it was gonna be any use but I just watched this morning and I fucking loved it. Definitely check it out.

I will give you a link to a page where you can watch the whole movie but in case you haven't got the time to watch the movie in full, here is the trailer.

Link to the full movie - http://stagevu.com/video/ruaznrajemmn