Spain win the World Cup. Andres Iniesta’s late winner was celebrated by the Barça midfielder pulling off his shirt to reveal a dedication to Dani Jarque, whose death last year inspired me to write this post.
And consequntially, this miserable little blog, used to maybe eight hits a day, got over a thousand views in the hours following his goal.
There is something fitting, or telling, that the world’s biggest sporting event gives even a strange, maladjusted little sports blog like this its biggest day of hits.
I cannot escape the order of things.
And where the fuck are you bastards normally? Reading the BBC Sport website? Cunts.
P.S. >>> Iniesta was booked for the celebration. Scoring a nearly last-minute winner in a World Cup final, for a country that had never got past even the Quarter Finals previously, with a ready-made dedication to a dead man. And he gets booked for the mere act of pulling his shirt off. Jesus! FIFA clearly don’t appreciate the ritual they claim to have control over…
If I was in Iniesta’s situation I’d lose the plot. Shirt, shorts, socks, velveteen posing pouch. They’d all be ripped off whilst I roared at the gods. I’d probably sacrifice a virgin by the corner flag and as she neck-bled to death cum over her naked breasts.