When life's not treating us so good we tend to take it out on somebody else. It's called frustration and basically anybody will do as a butt to help us feel better. It's helps, of course, if the victim of our frustration takes the kicking or beating like a man, a woman or helpless cat. But whatever, we now have, of course, the wonderful Internet to help us find someone to kick with no threat of any physical comeback.
And that in a nutshell is what we all saw yesterday on our frankies daily thoughts. Tired of the usual dribble about Darren's on-off move, our FV read a headline in the Mirror and twisted it around with his usual lateral thinking out of the box skills and came up with an article that made us all chuckle.
Well, seems not. 'Cause while us Addicks live a rounded existence with its customary ups and downs and can understand tongue-in-cheek humour when we see it, seems there are some people out there that got rather upset with his outrageous wit. Seems a lot of them, while happily rejoicing in the label "up the yids" can get rather upset when the term "non-gentile" is used.
Ignoring the praise given about their "renowned business acumen and their legendary nose for a bargain" it was clearly the phase non-gentile ( and the 17M price tag) that was key to the huge number of replies. A staggering 7000 people read the post and reading the comments (sic) would have taken you an hour or two. Some were readable and a few seemed to think that our Darren is not worth 17M but a vast number were sadly a trifle abusive and then just drifted into meaningless dribble. Our Frank was called a racist, a journalist and far worst.
So what was the real reason behind all this hate mail? Well, I'm afraid that it doesn't take much to understand the North London mentality, as far as football is concerned, (I should know, I've lived there).
A big club, well back in the 60's, they now have to live with a much bigger neighbour! Some people just don't like successful neighbours. They can't handle it. Neighbours with money and a trophy cabinet where the key hasn't been lost. And that's a problem that, bless us, we'll never have. We positively rejoice in our failures, we expect them to happen. Europe! Whats that? The closest we ever got to Europe was playing Newport County the week after their Cup-Winners First Round tie back in 1975. So we can therefore take the piss out of ourselves anytime and we don't need Sad Spuds doing it for us.
So roll on the Iron on August 11th, we'll like it hot!