The quest for football

The aim to watch live football in South America is not going well thus far. In Venezuela we never stopped anywhere for long enough until we went to Merida and Maricaibo by which time the elections had called a stop to everything including live sport. Here in Colombia the twice yearly top division is in its final stages where the top eight teams play in two leagues of four and the top of each mini-league plays in a two-leg final. This will all be over by the time we get to Bogota. Cartagena has recently won the second division which is now over for the year. We did see some local women´s and men´s football in Santa Marta along with about eighty other people but it was definitely very amateur.

Luckily I can still follow the premier league by the magic of cable TV. In fact I´ve watched about eight live games this week including Burnley beating Arsenal in the cup. The commentary however, is fabulously different. My favourite commentator follows every goal by saying gol loudly then shouting gol for about ten seconds then taking breath and shouting gol for another ten seconds or much longer for a good goal and he then makes up a different song for each goal. Some are too complicated for me to follow but all involve the player and or team name to a well-known tune. One about Gerrard to the tune of Que Sera Sera for example or, to the tune of Volare and following straight on from the gol shouts: de Xavi oaoh, Alonso o-o-oaoh. His favourite player appears to be Benny McCarthey because Benny sounds very good when repeated quickly about ten times. Try this with a Spanish accent and you´ll see what I mean. I think of Clive Tyldsley trying this singing concept and it makes me shudder. Nor would I like to hear Lawro or Pleaty dropping in how masculine Nivea For Men makes you feel or how they are Lovin´ It at McDonalds as the co-commentators here do.