Touchy Toure


Regular readers will know how much I love my wonderful three grandsons. Yesterday we spent the day with my youngest E, who was a little under the weather with a cold but who still managed to light up a grey day with his smiles. Last week we caught up with smashing grandson G on his birthday. I picked him up from school with his dad and was able to surprise him with a small gift I’ve been promising him for ages that he can only have once he’d turned 7 – a packet of chewing gum. He tried a piece enthusiastically but I wasn’t sure he enjoyed the Airwaves menthol and eucalyptus flavour. He liked his real pressies more I think. Bless him. Finally My eldest grandson S telephoned just the other evening to confirm he’d been offered a trial by Northampton football club which he was so excited about. Me too! He’s such an accomplished sportsman and this crowned a big week for him having won a gold medal for winning an mixed age 200 metres event at an inter-school athletics meeting as well as not one, but two cup finals. He’s the nearest of course to achieving his dream of becoming a professional footballer. We don’t know of course what the future holds for them but they can be assured that we will support them in whatever endeavour they choose. My only hope for S is that should he fulfill his ambition, he doesn’t turn out to be a footballer with a skin as thin as Yaya Toure.

I guess not all readers will be up to speed on the latest news on young Yaya; he’s a beautifully gifted and immensely athletic footballer whose brilliant skills have helped Manchester City win the Premiership trophy. He scored probably the best individual goal of the season just recently against Aston Villa as he surged from his own half with the ball brushing of several defenders before firing a scorching shot past the helpless Villain goalie. It was a brute of a goal. You’d expect a man capable of such physical power to be pretty strong-minded wouldn’t you? Sadly it seems that the big Ivorian is as thick-skinned as a baby jellyfish. The shocking news this morning is that he is seriously considering a future away from Man City as the club have failed to show him proper respect by failing to wish him fulsome birthday wishes. Oh the poor lamb. Apparently the club had produced a birthday cake for him and the team and officlals had sung Happy Brithday to him on the plane on the way home from a trip to Abu Dhabi and had even put a ‘Happy Birthday Yaya’ facebook posting on the club website, which had attracted over 250,000 likes. God knows what he was looking for (maybe Deirdre Barlow to sing him HB Mr Toure a la Marilyn Monroe?) but this clearly wasn’t enough to satisfy the sensitive soul and his agent, the sulky Dimitri Seluk, who had last lambasted the club precisely 12 months ago for some other perceived slant which had resulted in a significant salary increase for his sole major client. Ah.

Now I may not be an intellectual giant but it’s not beyond the realms of possibility is it, that the Seluk-Toure axis of hurt are treading down the same path followed by earlier City employees like Mario Balotelli and Carlos Tevez who ‘fall out’ with the club to either win a big pay hike or a lucrative transfer to another club with more arab money than sense. And the poor dear Yaya must be hurting badly having to make do on just the £250,000 per week. I mean compared to the Sultan of Brunei he’s a virtual pauper and the cost of living in SE Lancs is just dreadful. Have you seen the price of houses in Oldham and Eccles?

It’s a sad (though no doubt lucrative) way to live your life isn’t it? And I hope that if my grandson S does become a top player, he chooses not to negotiate like a bleating wounded goat but just asks the chairman to watch a video of the goals he’s scored like YT’s below and let the guy decide if this is a talent he’s prepared to lose. I know what my reaction would be…enjoy:

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