Justified....or not.

Currently sitting watching the World Cup game between England and Germany.  For those of you also partaking, the controversial (though in reality totally indisputable) goal has been disallowed and we're just venturing in to half time.  Those poor England players, and fans of course, will be smarting from the refs decision for quite some time to come.  Depending that is on the overall outcome of the match.    

How can it be that justice is so subjective?  Surely right is right and wrong is wrong, truth is truth, whether initially misunderstood or not, and a bad decision, when realised, deserves to be corrected.  It has to be said that FIFA rules are reminiscent of the justice system in general.  It doesn't matter what actually happened, it only matters what is perceived....even if further evidence can demonstrate otherwise.  Considering the majority of our British young men are watching with me it's a shame that the object lesson could not have been more positive.  As it stands the message is you can do what you like so long as you don't get spotted.  Justice?  What's that?

I'm not actually that perturbed by the decision....I do have some perspective and can understand that whilst it seems abysmal, no-one has died (yet that is) and in the grand scheme of things it is fairly inconsequential.   Although saying that, my sister's father-in-law based his whole marriage proposal on the premise that England won the World Cup (1966) so perhaps the outcome of this game has far more lasting consequences than we think.  Somewhere in the universe a man is considering taking out a hit on his wife, a woman is debating running off with her lover and a downtrodden pensioner could be contemplating suicide, all hinging on the results of this game.  A cosmic indication of the planet's wish for their destiny. What I'm trying to say is that whilst it's not that significant to me and you, perhaps, to someone somewhere, it could be everything.

Scary to think that such small actions can have relatively massive consequences.  Who knows which teeny weeny acts of ours could hold resounding ramifications for others.  Thankfully we never usually get to find out. 

So England are now 4-1 down.  The men in the house are finally beginning to comprehend how it feels to be a woman, have acute PMS and desire pain and suffering for all those around them.   It's a shame; in the words of Wayne Rooney "nice to hear your own fans booing you....that's loyal support that is!"  How is it that although Germany scored two goals in two minutes, everyone has written off England scoring three in twenty????   We are such a negative nation.....giving up immediately and whine, whine, whining incessantly.  If that were my son on the pitch I would be willing him on to the  bitter end......which, in my opinion, is true love and support and more than these mere fair weather friends can offer.  Who needs them?  The 'fans' are now singing "England's going home".......has no-one ever heard of positive mental attitude? all that's left in the lounge are Commando Sis and I holding out in the ruins of the game, still willing them on and believing that anything is possible.  

I have to confess at this point to harbouring an ulterior motive for wishing England well; it's our summer fayre next Sat and an England Game on big screen would have attracted the crowds.  Looks like we'll have to lean on our fall back plan.... obese topless mud wrestlers.  To every cloud there is a silver lining so they say.  


They've lost....in the space of this blog England have received a most resounding annihilation and shamed the nation (apparently).  Our husbands have expressed their desire that  Rooney be placed in the stocks (my nephew wishes to throw Primark shoes at him????) and Fabio Capello's head on a plate.  Rather I feel it would be more productive relegating the whole of the England squad to jobs in Burger King and see if that doesn't give them a massive butt kick.


Anyway, it's BBQ time, time for the males to dissect the game, superimpose themselves in to it and demonstrate how they would have made the nation proud.  


Male egos never cease to amaze me.....