Showing posts with label robbo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label robbo. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 07, 2008

More Linklove

I've been slacking off on my blogging recently. I promise I shall return.

Anyway, you can enjoy this Robbo column till then.

In all the uproariously funny lines that he writes, he makes a point that I will never forget. Talking about Ronnie O'Sullivan he writes,

"If you judged a sporting entertainer by the number of times you gasped at what he did ..."

I'm going to be using that barometer.

Monday, October 22, 2007

Go Robbo!

I've been recently sad that the quality of Robbo's work had gone down. But, pathos, they say brings out the best in you. So please read Robbo's rants about the crap weekend that England Sport had. Here are a few quotes in case you can;t got through it entirely.

About the Rugby WC

"All I can say is, thank God I was supporting someone. I'd be surprised if there was a neutral on the planet who hadn't switched off by half-time. There was a lot of what my Dad calls 'hyperbowl' from the combox, but by God it was bloody dreary stuff."

About Gordon Brown being there

By the by, why was Gordon Brown there? I've got absolutely no problem with a Scot being PM, so long as he doesn't pretend he's English from time to time. It just doesn't suit the bloke. You are Scottish, mate!

Just because it may take a long time for your countrymen to reach the final of anything, it doesn't mean you have to gatecrash the English party.

I think it would've been good to see him react like every other Scot I've met since Saturday, and say "bad luck, pal", with a barely-disguised smile playing around his lips.


And in conclusion

All in all, you're left with that feeling English sportsmen are better than any other when it comes to one thing. Heroic Defeat. Agonising Failure. Noble Effort. And it's bloody depressing.

Monday, January 08, 2007

You know what,

"There's loads of reasons why we lost but the main ones are this: crap batting and crap bowling."


Read the complete, no-holds-barred heartfelt outpouring of a bruised English heart. OK, fine i'll paraphrase - read another guy who satisfied himself taking potshots at the English team.