It's not me, it's you!

Could it be that the longest love affair of a fast approaching middle-aged man’s life is about to come to an end?

No, not my adoration for my right hand, something much more important.

I have been in love with football since before I can remember. My first bicycle in 1980, my first kiss in 1989 (yes I was 15, the other thing wasn't at the same time), my first car in 1992. All momentous occasions and all easily picked out from a 35-year backdrop.

Football, though, has always been there. Part of the furniture, available to be turned to in times of worry, a provider of joy when nothing else seemed to be going right. Impossible to put a date on when it started. When I first kicked a ball or when I first looked on bewildered at a Pat Jennings save on the television. I was always a goalkeeper, part of a strange breed, maybe that is why I don't have many friends. But better to have no friends than be one of those selfish bastards of strikers!

When Thierry Henry’s audition for the Harlem Globetrotters resulted in an injustice that threatened to turn into a diplomatic incident I was left pondering my future without the life-long friend I had come to rely on.

It wasn’t the fact that Ireland hadn’t qualified for the World Cup. I hadn’t really expected them to do so. It was more than that, a question of morals. How could I go on supporting something that seemingly held morality in such disregard?

Now we have the World Cup, and as I've said I'm not that interested. But every time I seem to turn it on there is another selfish little prick diving or cheating.

Things have been slowly simmering for some time. It's not like this is a new phenomenon. Cristiano Ronaldo, has been responsible for some of the most despicable acts of cheating we have seen in some time. Every time he fell over a blade of grass that seemed to have been armed with a freshly sharpened scythe that little voice called conscience nagged away at any celebration from the resulting goal.

But yet I still think he's the best player in the world. Better than that litte cunt Messi, who seems to be immune to people seeing him cheat and dive. Perhaps it's his ridiculous haircut. Or the fact he looks like an oompa-loompa.

A couple of weeks prior to Henry’s display the then England captain, John Terry (the cunt), had almost removed the shirt from a Manchester United forward while pulling him down in the penalty box. Similar to Henry’s situation the referee didn’t see it but, unlike the French Captain, Terry afterwards insisted he did not do it, despite video evidence to the contrary.

Surely a clear-cut case of a footballer being caught out in an indefensible situation? Seemingly not. Any posts on the BBC’s website suggesting Terry had cheated and then lied about it were removed within seconds.

Indeed after that match the Daily Mirror’s chief sports writer wrote a column praising Terry for his leadership in what could be a decisive victory. When I asked him why he had not brought up the act of breaking the rules, the silence was deafening. He wasn't so silent once before when I told him that he was completely wrong about Gary Neville and GNev was in fact a useless little twat who only got a game because he was a bigger tout than whichever historical figure was a big tout. (I'm not big into history as I'm not a Liverpool fan).

Politicians may, deservedly some might argue, get a hard time from the media but at the very least if they are caught with their hand in the cookie jar we expect them to be asked about it.

But where in the football publications can you find players being simply called a cheat? You see allegedly this and allegedly that with quotation marks around the bad words. Running scared are the papers? They don't seem to be when the footballer slips and accidently sticks his dick in some wench that isn't his wife. So why don't they do it when they cheat on the pitch.

Things are looking bleak. My relationship is floundering and I need re-assurance that it is worth trying to save.

Maybe I should go straight to the top. God’s representative for football on earth, head of Fifa Sepp Blatter. Perhaps unsurprisingly my requests for an interview with him were met with derision. But then he's busy sorting out video technology isn't he?

I'll have to look at it psychologically. Football is like love. It makes no sense. It's compulsive and like all compulsive behaviour logic takes a back seat. Fans will seldom admit when their team does something wrong and the majority of the time when they are shown concrete evidence of unacceptable sporting behaviour they will resort to child like arguments of why it is acceptable.

Pointing out reasons like ‘well he did it first’ and such like are what the norm.

So if I am to remain in my relationship I will have to accept the fact that it is going to be an unhealthy one. Biased and one-sided and probably with me as the one to always suffer as a result. Sounds a bit like marriage.

For the time being then it looks like morals will have to be put to one side where football is concerned because it does not look like anything will be changing soon. Besides what other choice to I have? Is there any other sport where cheating is not rampant?

Maybe golf. But Tiger hasn't exactly covered that in glory has he. Unlike all the pornstars he met.

Is the party over?

So there we have it. England are going home. Will they follow the French lead and take cattle class seats on the plane back? I'm sure if Michael O'Leary was watching he will lay on a Ryanair flight back from South Africa for them. They'll have to pay for their own bags of course. But at least there's no need for expensive champagne.

What happens now then? Do we stop watching? Well seeing as I never started watching in the first place that's hardly an option. I did watch the England matches, but that was purely for comedy value and thankfully, on that front, they delivered in spades.

I've never really got the World Cup. For the life of me I can't understand why people want to support a team just because they come from the same place they were born in.

Nationality is a bit like string theory or Shakespeare or boy bands. I just can't understand it no matter how I try.

It's supposed to work like this isn't it; Person A was born in a hospital on one side of an imaginery line which makes them nationality A and person B was born on the other side of the line so that makes them nationality B.

(Obviously some people are born on another planet which makes them Leftists but that's a whole other story.)

Now then Person A must support a certain team because their players were born on the same side of the line. Or weren't, but their granny was so that makes it ok. And person A must want to beat person B's team because of the line thingy. It apparently doesn't matter if persons A & B ended up married to eachother, if they have a different piece of paper telling them what nationality they are then they can't be the 'same'.

See, I'm sort of rambling now. It confuses me that much.

Now a couple of years ago an Irish rugby team were apparently doing quite well and had to beat Wales in some sort of final game which meant they won a Grand Slam or something. How do you get presented with a Grand Slam by the way? Does Hulk Hogan pick you up and throw you to the floor?

Anyway I didn't want this Irish rugby team to win. Why?

BECAUSE I FUCKING HATE RUGBY.

I may have mentioned that to some people before but just in case others haven't heard it I'll make doubly clear...

I FUCKING HATE RUGBY!

Now apparently I was some sort of super-Nazi child molester or something for not wanting Ireland to win. Seeing as I was born in Ireland and have a piece of paper telling me I'm Irish then it's the law that I have to want anything 'Irish' to win.

See I just don't get this. Why? I FUCKING HATE RUGBY. I don't want an Irish rugby team to win at anything. I want them to lose and lose badly. Worse than England lost against Germany.

So the World Cup has never really appealed to me. And it probably never will.

But nevertheless we must get a few words in about the glorious failure of those brave English soldiers. Wait. Hang on. No matter how bad the BBC tried they couldn't even get English fans to say that this time.

Even the pathetic attempt of Gabbbbby Logan to blame the goal that never was didn't bring about the 'Hand of God' hullabaloo we've become accustomed to.

So could it be that England fans have turned a corner? Will there be no more of the divine birthright to win the thing stuff? Here's hoping. I have several English friends I would like to see happy so who knows, maybe in 4 years I can cheer on the England team. Only if John Terry isn't playing of course.

One thing before I go. There is the old saying of 'divide and conquer' which has worked well for many years for warmongering money grabbers. Which brings me on nicely to Sepp Blatter.

Instead of 'divide and conquer' can we now have 'unite and destroy' where Mr. Blatter is concerned. Imagine all the nationality bullshit going out the window and the world of football fans uniting against the single biggest (the fat cunt) thing that is threatening football today.

Blatter you must go and you must go now. You have definitely crossed the line and we don't need any video evidence to confirm it for us.

And take that cunt Terry with you.