TV VIEW:IT WAS proving to be a weekend of malfunctions, mishaps and misfortunes, with a few technical hitches thrown in, from the two false starts at the Grand National to the Malaysian Grand Prix resembling the University Boat Race, to Yossi Benayoun's 92nd-minute winner for Liverpool against Fulham. Just one thing after another.
Mercifully, some sense of normalcy, in a quite delightfully wondrous way, was restored, in our increasingly rickety world, by that young fella, Federico Macheda. “A star is born – take a bow son,” bellowed Andy Gray, as the little Italian bundle of loveliness scored in the 93rd minute at Old Trafford.
Afterward Sky Sport’s Geoff Shreeves asked Alex Ferguson what he’d said post-match to young Kiko, as, apparently, he’s known, and while the manager might have been tempted to reveal that he’d kissed the lips off the lad, he, instead, pointed to the likelihood that the media would now hype him to the heavens. True enough, the Kiko duvet covers are very probably being manufactured as we speak.
The media is, of course, rather silly – and a bit irresponsible – in these circumstances, never taking in to account the fragile youth of their latest “boy wonder”, and at 17 we know there’s every chance Kiko could be the Russell Beardsmore of the 2000s. (Note to young people: in the last century Russell was to be United’s new Charlton/Maradona/Pele/Best – he ended up at Bournemouth).
For that reason we won’t descend to those hyperbolic levels, expect to say that Kiko’s goal was possibly the greatest ever scored in the history of Association Football, and if he never scores again that’s okay. Yes, he could well be the Chesney Hawkes of 2009, but even if he’s a one hit wonder he’ll be 2009s one and only, so to speak.
“I think this is the day of my dream . . . I very enjoy,” Federico told Geoff, the latter unsure as to whether he could “legally” give the 17-year-old a bottle of champagne for his man of the match award.
“Scoring like that, is that the best feeling in the world, bar none,” Richard Keyes asked Dion Dublin back in the studio. “What are you trying to say,” said a giggling Dion. Richard giggled back, but Jamie Redknapp was too deflated to add to the merriment, wearing much the same expression as a deer confronted by a rapidly advancing articulated truck of a night.
That, funnily enough, was sort of how Liam Treadwell described the expressions on the faces that greeted him when he made his way to the winner’s enclosure at Aintree on Saturday. “Sort of blank,” he told Sky News yesterday when they turned up in Herefordshire to join in on the Grand National winning-celebrations.
Mon Mome was 100 to 1, but if everyone now claiming that they fancied him had actually backed him he’d have been in or around 1 to 100. It’s like all those folk who claimed they saw The Beatles in The Cavern – Slane Castle x 96 couldn’t have accommodated them – or were stamp-buying in the GPO in Easter 1916 – Croke Park x 134 wouldn’t have been roomy enough. Or claimed they knew the recession was coming, but just forgot to mention it.
The false starts were a hoot, prompting us to reminisce fondly about 1993 when Esha Ness “won” the Grand National that wasn’t. Everyone had sympathy back then for the jockey, John White, like he’d jumped the fences for feck all reward. If we’d found an Esha Ness duvet cover we’d have bought one.
Any way, Mon Mome won, Treadwell a bit on the ecstatic and gobsmacked side when he joined the BBC’s Clare Balding for a post-race chat. Clare congratulated him, then asked him to show his teeth to the camera. We’re not talking Donny Osmond here. “Now you can afford to get them done,” she told him, at which point we’d have hugged Treadwell if he’d forced Clare to jump Becher’s Brook at gunpoint.
Meanwhile, TG4 yesterday. More technical hitches, their pictures disappearing for a bit in the build-up to the game between Galway and Tipperary. But they sorted out their difficulties and we were back in plenty of time to see the counties knock lumps out of each other. It struck us, come 4.30ish, that our southern cousins might have wished the pictures disappeared again just in time for the highlights of Kilkenny knocking lumps out of Cork. We salute whoever is in charge of captions at TG4, fitting all the Kilkenny scorers on the screen was, surely, a 100 to 1 shot.
Kilkenny, when you think about it, are the Cliff Richard of hurling, a hit every year for the last few decades, Congratulationstheir theme tune. Mon Mome and Kiko might well prove to be Chesney Hawkes, but what harm, as Paul Robeson crooned, "For memory has painted this perfect day, with colours that never fade."
Hopefully the all-conquering images on the Mon Mome and Kiko duvets we’ve ordered won’t fade either. If they do we’ll find a copy in our hearts. Take a bow sons.
“Mon Mome was 100 to 1, but if everyone now claiming that they fancied him had actually backed him he’d have been in or around 1 to 100. It’s like all those folk who claimed they saw The Beatles in The Cavern – Slane Castle x 96 couldn’t have accommodated them.
