Saturday, 17 January 2009


I have a very good sense of humour. People always say to me that I should have been a comedian (as they hand me my letter of termination). Some even call me a joker. I also love football. With a passion. I mean even the title of this blog suggests that. But even with these attributes I was still caught offside (see what I did there?) when my friend rang me to say that he had heard that Manchester City was prepared to pay £100m transfer fee for a player (one player) and on top of this they would make sure that he did not dig too deeply into his overdraft by dropping a cool quarter of a million pounds every week into his bank account. Oh how I laughed at my friend. Being an Arsenal supporter he is used to being laughed at but he is laughing last. And loudest. And longest.

It would appear that in these days of the credit crunch , the cookie crumbling, the cake down to crumbs that somewhere in this global village of ours there are still what can only be described as muppets. One hundred million pounds for a football player or any other athlete for that matter is a ridiculously staggering amount and the fact that it is for a player for Manchester City who not too long ago were looking into the abyss of the exit door of the Premiership (and maybe they still are) just beggars belief. This amount would keep the first division happy for at least two full seasons and yet they are prepared to spend it on one player?

The worst part of it is listening to Mark Hughes, the Manchester City manager, who one would have thought would be the voice of reason based on his background trying to justify it. With a straight face!! I mean how much did he spend on Robinho? £35m? And the impact he has had? Are they challenging the top 4? No. Are they vying to play in Europe? No. Are they playing like the same old Manchester City that we know and love. Oh yes. So let me get this straight. If a £35m player cannot make a difference then of course one should spend an even more ridiculous sum of money on another one. And if that fails then hmmmm let me think.

This bring to mind the story of NIGCOMSAT. The Nigerian Communications Satellite that was launched last year with help from our friends the Chinese for a ridiculous sum of money just over $250m. Said satellite after twisting in orbit for just over a year then gave up the ghost. Lost power. Failed. After much investigation into the cause and much soul searching and technical and financial auditing (not) the MD of NIGCOMSAT then rushed down to the National Assembly to ask for funds to replace the “parked” satellite with two. So instead of $250m could he please just have $500m so that he can have a spare. You know just in case. Maybe Mark Hughes should run for office in Nigeria.?

Having thought long and hard about it I can only surmise that this is some sort of money laundering scam by our friends from the desert. The Arabs of course not the Hausas of Northern Nigeria. I am talking about Kaka the player not the space satellite Kaka of course.

In my mind I see the negotiations thus between the buyer and the agent.:
Hello I am is Abdul from Abu Dhabi. I want Kaka.
Sir the toilet is that way.
Toilet? No toilet. I want Kaka and I want right here, right now.
Sir I am sorry but you cannot Kaka right here, right now.
I give you $50m.
Sir, we will bring the toilet to you for you to Kaka right here, right now. Is there anything else you would like?
No just Kaka and tomorrow he must be in Manchester.
Oh I see. You want Kaka the player, not Kaka the toilet.
Yes Kaka the player to go to Manchester, the toilet. I give you $100m.
Sir for that sort of money you can have Kaka and Kajagoogoo
No kajagoogoo. Just Kaka. I give you $150m. You take cheque? I only have $100m cash.
Sir we have just spoken to Kaka and he says that he is not interested in moving for money.
Not for money! For Manchester City. I give you $200m.
Sir without even speaking to Kaka I can assure you he will be in Manchester City by next season.
Next season? No tomorrow. I want Kaka now. Tell him I pay him $500,000 every week.
Sir Kaka is already on the plane and will be arriving in Manchester shortly. We will inform his family and team mates as soon as we have the chance (or the cheque clears, whichever comes first).

Pardon the flight of fantasy but how else can you explain this type of lunacy? Again I am of course referring to the football one. The Nigeria satellite one is easily explained is it not?

Thursday, 8 January 2009


Bullets speak louder than wordsI know,

I heard and saw it for myself

When the robbers came to the bank

For the first time the street fell silent

No car horns, no okadas buzzing

No shouting, fighting, raucous laughter

All fell silent as the guns blazed

With their own unique molten cadenza

My friends it’s the truth I tell you

Bullets speak louder than words

Just look at our friend Mugabe

A million dead due to poverty and hunger

And a million more to go through disease

Yet he sits there quietly mocking

Planning his Christmas fete for friends and family

Whilst the international community imposes

Their worthless and hypocritical sanctions

Because he knows that he controls the choir

And at the very first sign of real trouble

He will deliver them special Christmas carols

And will watch them fall silent once again

My friends it’s the truth I tell you

Because bullets speak louder than words

And to the terrorists of India

Who came to kill in the dead of night

Who knows how long they had been agitating

Asking for “constructive dialogue”

Where was Sky News, CNN, Al Jazeera

When their words fell on deaf ears

But armed and dangerous and full of swagger

Lost for words no longer “speaking”

They took to the streets to cause their carnage

Left us speechless with their message

My friends it’s the truth I tell you

Bullets speak louder than words

And while the streets of Lagos are littered

With the poor, the sick, the mad, the homeless

A Senator imports a floating hotel to the Marina

Says it will bring much needed tourists

Like what we need is more people in Lagos?

What will it do for us ask the trampled masses?

Will it feed, or clothe, or house or cure us?

But it’s hard to hear the masses crying

Above the sounds of clicking champagne glasses

But the man on the street will soon learn the secret

That if you scream and scream but no one hears you

My friends it’s the truth I tell you

Bullets speak louder than words

Lets not forget our leaders in Abuja

Where the rot is truly set

Where there is no room for true discussion

Where freedom of information is just an act

Where our trusted leader Yardy,

good a man as they say he is

Finds himself surrounded by Judas'

Out to only enrich themselves

Each of them with forty policemen

Not to protect them from the sniper’s bullet

But for the day when the masses open their eyes

And close their mouths

Because suddenly they have discovered that

My friends it’s the truth I tell you

Bullets speak louder than words

And now in Gaza they dance to shrapnel

Fire rains from earth and sky

Isreal says we have the right to

Claim 500 of them for one of ours

Using our shiny new US made armors

Jets, and Tanks, and Guns and rockets

We can pick them off as we wish and will and want

Mouthpieces smirk their way across my telly

Meanwhile the Bush man plans his leaving party

Whilst babies bodies decompose

The world suppresses its revulsion

And prays that soon a truce might come

Oh my friends its the truth I tell you

Bullets speak louder than words