Jim White's head fails to explode. It eats football instead.
I guess I was asking for too much to see a Scanners type end to proceedings on Deadline Day. What we did witness instead was something far more horrific. Sky cameras covering Jim White's arrival to the Sky Sports News studios. Yes. Because from 8pm onwards we are blessed with a presenter that somehow manages to define the days chaotic scramble for signings purely based on the fact that there's a fluffer under the desk squeezing his balls tight for over three hours straight.
With each passing year it seems like the coverage of Deadline Day (in HD) takes on a Chris Morris/Alan Partridge vibe. It's not satirical, it's professionalism, yet it's practically a spoof when you have a grown man in a studio shouting during a link-up to another grown man standing outside a football club as they both scream about absolutely nothing.
When something does happen, we then have to endure buckets of ugly as we come to the realisation that only the facially disturbed frequent the Sky Cameras as they huddle around the lucky reporter waiting for the sighting of say, Peter Crouch. In Stoke, it was akin to their creator arriving from the heavens to bless them by virtue of autograph. Outside the Emirates some fans showed off their tattoos stating 'Prem winners 2012'. It's a minefield of mong wherever you dared to look.
One massively disappointing aspect of it all was the fact that the protracted saga of Modric to Chelsea lead by chief brokers (Sky Sports) failed to materialise No yellow-ticker after a summer where it constantly rained with Luka soundbites. It all ended with one from Harry Redknapp (who spent most of the day driving in and out of the Spurs Lodge to be interviewed via his car window with mic in face...or was it the same interview played over and over again? I get confused)...where was I? Oh yes, the soundbite that ended it all was from 'arry stating 'one million percent' in reply to Modric remaining at the club.
All in all, much ado about nothing. But we all know in this wonderful game of ours that nothing is always worth its weight in gold as something. As witnessed by Twitter for most of the evening. No matter the pointing and the shrugs of embarrassment, we all still somehow manage to get sucked in. Every single time.
So, I leave you with this. Ironically not via Sky but via The London Evening Standard. Remember, it's September 2nd today. The window has been closed for a day.
I know what you're thinking having clicked on that link. Jesus wept, right? And if Jesus was a football fan, he'd be left on the shelf.
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From the world famous secret studio of The Fighting Cock podcast team, it's episode six. Discussed in part one: Twitter re-tweet mission update. Man City debacle autopsy. Livermore > Modric. The truth behind Luka's performance against City. Formation headaches. Centre-back headaches. Positivity and negativity. Harry Redknapp is dissected (it gets ugly) along with our transfer dealings (pre-deadline day) and Neil the Cabbie is back with a brand new rant. In part two we laugh at the scum (lol) and whether we should in fact be laughing at them. We laugh at them anyway. We've got emails. Also Daniel Levy. Do we love him? Or do we not? Do you love him? A twist on the Tottenham Whisper. And we end with a super-quick game of Killer.
Love the shirt.
