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Yesterday I had the pleasure of going to the Theatre in Monte Casino to watch the Phantom of The Opera.
But I experienced one of those really awkward moments when you’re embarrassed to be a certain colour in the smartie box.
It is general theatre etiquette that viewers come to the show with ample time to spare so that everyone can be properly seated before the show begins.
The show began at precisely eight pm. At 20:10 I heard the woman behind me say “oh God, you have to be kidding me”. It was at that point I began my silent prayer to the heavens.
I heard rustling and complaining as people shifted their feet to let the late-comers come through. I was holding my breath- daring not to turn to see what colour the late-comers were.
The next word I heard was “Aplogies” <<<—-insert BEE accent. I died a little inside. And as i turned my head to the left I caught a glimpse of a curly fro.
I put my head in my hands and I sighed deeply.
But in retrospect; I’m experiencing an awkward moment now about my awkward moment then. Maybe it wasn’t their fault that they were late. Maybe the baby got sick or the tyre had a flat? Or Maybe they paid R250 and were not going to waste that money by not showing up at all to see the performance! Why was I feeling the way I was? And Why do I feel the way I do at times like that?
Who am I trying to impress? Why couldn’t I just feel annoyed that there were late to come to the theatre and not have been overly aware of their colour?
have you had a similar experience? Or am I alone across that line?
Mayhap I might have been a bit harsh on the fickle crowd of yester-Monday.
Barcelona should definitely be in panic mode.
The Catalans were kicked out of champs league by a ten men Chelsea at the Nou Camp after John Terry was sent off in the 37th minute.
Torres scored a screamer of a goal in the dying seconds of stoppage time to end the match two all and to make the aggregate Chelsea 3 Barcelona 2.
Messi missed a penalty and failed to find the back of the net though he did come dangerously close a number of times.
All in all it wasn’t the Barcelona we have come to know.
I do take offence when people say that the english game is the best in Europe. I’m not so convinced. I dont see how Chelsea will win against either Bayern or Madrid. Madrid is in stellar form but even they were cut down by the clinical german performance of Bayern.
But the commentators curse is real. We just have to wait and see what tonights game has in store and that the final in May will hold.
Viva le football !
And I Don’t even know your name.
But I Know how you died and I know when you died and why.
And I Don’t even know your name.
But I saw the spot where you probably lay when you were flung so high from your bike that you landed with a thud that ended your life.
And I Don’t even know your name.
But I know I feel pain at your parting. What an undignified way to go. What an undignified way to die. You died. You are dead.
And I Don’t even know your name.
And not many people do. But your family does. I know they got that phone call and inside they couldn’t believe it or process it yet it happened and I knew before they did.
And I Don’t even know your name.
But I know the sight of the bits of your bicycle still lay on the grass forgotten. the shards of glass from the car that hit you haven’t all been removed. Some curious passer by will look disinterestedly at it all and walk by where you died.
And I Don’t even know your name.
I feel like a failed you and knew you but i never even saw your face
And I Don’t even know your name.
I hate on Mario Balotelli but truth be told the guy is rather entertaining! That “why always me” shirt was classic. Had me seething for days but at the back of my mind I had to admire the cheekyness.
The man can be a football genius when he wants to but his shenanigans keep him from making any real progress. Just last week in the match against Sunderland our boy Balotelli (ours by virtue of his african-ness) was nearly in an on pitch tussle with his fellow team mate Kolarov over the taking of a free kick. At half-time he nearly went head to head with Yaya Toure.
Even Mancini is getting fed up with his antics and that says a lot. Mancini has always indulged and delighted in Balotellis fancy’s.
‘I don’t like it when he plays like this. Mario has everything to do his job well but he doesn’t understand very well his situation. In a game like this, the striker should be the difference. Not in the last two or three minutes, but before’
Balotelli scored two amazing goals to help his team draw against Sunderland; the bogey team that beat them earlier this season with one goal scored in the dying seconds of added time.
I fancy Balotelli to be a great footballer. I think all the greatest footballers I know have had some crazy and irrationality in them. Take for example, Diego Maradona, certified mad man; Paul Gascoigne- who boozed and took cocaine; George Best and the liquor induced antics included missing practice on numerous occasions and joy riding… there are many and all those many are and were great!
it seems madness is a pre-requisite for greatness in any field…
But Balotelli? Special Boy, Special Genius but he definitely has Special needs!
PS- in my dreams when Man United play Man City, Rooney scores a goal and the rest of the players lift their shirts in celebration. The vests they reveal read “Not Always Yew!” hahahahahaha! I’m done 
