Covid Boundaries

 I peeked into my daughter, Manju's office this morning -- I'm really not allowed to go in there. She says I am vulnerable, at eighty-five. True. Vulnerable to a great many other things in addition to Covid. Such as age and senility, obstinacy, general disregard for rules...  She drives to Caterham and back daily with her daughter, who can bring all sorts of unwelcome visitors home from school, she maintains.

   The thing I miss most is watching T V with her, book in hand, periodically surfacing to slag off our nincompoop P M, supply words for Hancock when he stutters and stammers, all the while counting the U-turns and ticking off another day from the next four years of this Tory government.

    Even more, I miss watching football with my daughter. We shout at the pundits, who have their heads so far up their fundaments, they can't see what is happening on the pitch. When Son scores a hat-trick, they sing a whole a song of praise for Harry Kane. Racism? or like I said, not being able to see beyond their ----- 

    Actually, I watch mostly when Liverpool is playing. Liverpool is the house icon, and after the last league success, they can't do any wrong. We must get a plaster cast of Klopp to worship. Whereas Manju will watch football even if it is the local schoolboys kicking a ball around, I have other things I like almost as much, some of them, more  All through the last few months, Manju showed distinct withdrawal symptoms. 

    So, I was disappointed yesterday, parked in front of the T V on my own, watching the City-Wolves match, switching off when it was 2-0 to City. Manju says Wolves came back in the second half. By which time I was deep into my book. City is so predictable: play clinically for 23 minutes, get goals, then kick a ball around, just thwarting the other side. Those long balls to De Bruyne and Sterling are very effective. However City are so skilled, I'd like to see some real display for a change. All too easy for them. So how did they lose eleven games last season?

   Liverpool's first match against Leeds just about kept Leeds at bay. The team looked as though they were sleep-walking. Chelsea, after that, was going to be a challenge. And this is what is so exciting about football --  Liverpool was a joy to watch: sleek, accurate passes ; Salah back to his old speed where he could outrun most people for the ball; Alexander-Arnold showing he had more than one-card of a swerving free-kick up his sleeve. 

   Alexander-Arnold defended as well as Robinson, almost. Chelsea, it was that sleepwalked. Mane' was Mane', totally reliable, ducking and diving and escaping his pursuers, showing off almost. But there is no fun watching without Manju, in her state of frenetic eagerness.  No Manju alongside to gloat, scream, curse the referees, and use inappropriate language in describing various protagonists.

    I might have to give up football.