So here's to the Computer Game Era. It's that time to raise our Glasses like Gatsby and say goodbye.
We will miss the joy of victory as well as the rage of defeat. The scramble for the update and magnanimous grin sprinkled with a dash of malevolence when a youngster poached from a rival finally gets the recognition and can help us 'tuck @ the bash'. With our pants sagging from our waist we pour liquor from a brown paper bag onto the floor for the pads that never made it broken in compat where R1 getting stuck in is as good as the bullet being 'caught up in the chamber'.
We nostalgically return our pad to the toy box and think back to where high powered machines where nothing more than a fantasy, when old note books calculators and dishevelled journals would keep us locked in a room for hours. A knock at the door or footsteps at the staircase will initiate coreagraphed ritual for the contraband to be hidden. Echoes of 'jeps' would prompt the the perpetrator to hide the booklet under the pillow and continue to watch TV or engage in another 'more enriching activity'.
Here's a toast to the blog which sharpened tongues to burst the bubbles of egos. Where kings where discovered as much as fake prophets proclaimed. To the game we owe a lot. An unthinkable famine on family fun forsaken if it where not for the cries of header for Fash *insert lisp here* or volley for Bergkamp.
So wanderers are no more as Gerrard is semi retired and no longer at Liverpool. As fittingly we sit in second place with bundles of potential so the die Hards wonder what might have been... And like that they vanished never to be seen again by the eyes of a dirty Soul!
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