Saturday 12th March 2005

Saturday 12th March 2005

Those who know me well, and even those who have only recently got in touch should agree that of all the words that can be used to describe me, optimistic is for sure high on the list. Not sure where this positive attitude came from, because I have in the same vain, been told that I look too deep into things and ponder the what if scenario too often. I would never describe myself as happy go lucky but I do tend to find solace in the minor miracles that occur everyday. Observing the bright blue cloudless sky as I drive to work, is one of those moments. It was with these sentiments I came home from a stressful day at work, knowing there was an opportunity for Arsenal to progress to the quarter-finals of the premiere European competition. Having watched the beautiful game at it’s most picturesque the night before. The difference would come apparent between the blue and red of London, over the course of the evening.

In the strange world of Arse Blog, the author had the benefit of a DeLorean Time Machine, some school bully called Biff and a Sports Almanac. So we were going to win an convincing three – nil and batter the Munich defense. I didn’t quite share his great optimism on this occasion but believed we would get two goals and then go through on the away goes rule. The first half was painful to watch, pinned into our own goal area of most of the time, defending set piece after set piece. Scrambling the ball away, holding on frankly for life. The stats appeared, and showed almost exact equal share of possession between the German and English side, but it felt more like 70% to them and the remainder to us. I had expected more fire, desire, courage, particularly from our big name star internationals. We came to life, towards the end of the first half, taking a few shorts on goal and Henry only being denied by Kahn. If this tempo was to continue in the second half, I knew we were in with a chance, just a small chance of going through. So the second half came along and we played like we should have played for the first 45. We kept plugging away, but none of our major players came up to the plate, until Henry came up with some magic. I jumped off the sofa and much like the rest of the Clock End, was overwhelmed by emotion. Could we come up with another goal in the next thirty minutes? There is a saying in football, never write off the Germans. On Wednesday night, it was once again proved true. But that Italian referee was a joke? How come we got a policeman and Chelski got arguable the best referee in the world?

Did you watch Comic Relief last night? I try my best to watch as much of the live broadcast as possible, even if the clips showing the charity’s work in Africa and the UK is sometimes too hard to bear. The story of the young street child, looking for her older sister, did pull on my heart strings. I am happy to admit that I did shed a tear. Some people may say that this is sheer emotional blackmail in order to compel me to donate. I feel it is far from this. In our everyday lives, we get trapped into the meaningless routine that is work. We get up, we go to work, we come home and the cycle starts again. Yet, we seem to take for granted the little essentials, of running water, a warm bed, a roof over our heads and even a hot meal. I came to realise this one morning, when I got up, this week, that I wondered what are we all doing this for? What is the point of being in this rat race. I think for one day, every two years, our eyes are opened to the world outside our window, where life is challenging to the extend of wondering where you will be sleeping tonight and where the next meal will come from? I donate, what I can and yes I feel better for it. Though something deep inside, tells me I should be doing more, being more active and trying to make a difference.

Back to the entertainment, there was several highlights in the show. The winner of Comic Relief does Fame Academy was announced. The favourite, Kim from Eastenders came into the final two with BBC Radio One presenter Edith Bowman. My money was always on Kim from the beginning, but the final two performances, made me believe that the Scottish lass would win. Over the course of the past few weeks, she had been the most consistent, improved and sung a variety of songs, as her confidence grew. Her final number, Champagne Supernova, by Oasis was given a special big band rendition with Jools Holland on piano. She was the deserved winner. For a change the public, got it right. The other big highlight was the special Little Little Britain sketches, featuring Sir Elton John, George Michael and Robbie Williams. However, the main attraction was something I had not expected. Peter Kay and a whirlwind of celebrity appearances as he mimes along to a classic by Tony Christie. Although I believe Kay is a comic genius, I have not watched Phoenix Nights and only briefly watched a few episodes of Max &amp Paddy’s Road to Nowhere. It was news to me that the song featured on Comic Relief that it was featured on the original series. The clip was hilarious with Kay running along with a pair of well know television personalities which changed every few minutes. Just watch Ronnie Corbett flow flat on his face off the treadmill.

Now, the most difficult part of my posting, summarizing how I feel. MSN is a great way of communicating with people, down the road and across the other side of the world. Yet, you can never underestimate the power of a single phone call. Hearing a voice, feeling the emotion in their responses, means so much. You don’t have to talk for long, and you don’t actually have to talk about something specific, the most important thing is to know that they are there on the end of the line and for a few minutes at least you have their full attention. Nerves did get the better of me, and there were some awkward silences that I just wanted to fill. What have I learnt? That this is not a time to be setting agendas, making plans or expensive bookings. Instead, my success rests just as much with the outcome of the trial dubbed by the media as the celebrity trial of the century, as it does within my own grasp. If I am to believe this, then I feel even more powerless, for there is little I can do to influence events in a court room, over 5,456 miles away. All I can do is be patient, wait for justice to prevail, which I truly believe will happen. With strength and undeniable dedication, I can try my utmost to be the pillar of support, whilst still having MJ constantly in my thoughts, as I am sure there are darker days in court to come. I know it is stupid to begin reflecting on such things at this moment, with so much going on, but these events go back to a single starting point, February 2003. I recall vividly, how unhappy, unsettled and lonely I felt then. Never thinking that just over two years later, my idol would be on trial. With my feelings running a mile, all for the smile of beautiful stranger. Putting the time frame into context, makes the final hurdle of a few months, seems hardly any punishment to bear. In the meanwhile, I could easily ‘adapt’ the lyrics from the most famous song by Christie. Amarillo is interchangeable with Harrow and Maria can be removed and replaced by…?

There’s a church bell ringing
With a song of joy that its singing
For the sweet Maria
And the guy who’s coming to see her
Just beyond the highway
Theres an open plane and it keeps me going
Through the wind and rain

Is this the way to Amarillo?
Every night I’ve been hugging my pillow
Dreaming dreams of Amarillo
And sweet Marie who waits for me
Show me the way to Amarillo
I’ve been weeping like a willow
Crying over Amarillo
And sweet Marie who waits for me

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