How To Write About A Week In Which Nothing Happened….

To say that nothing has happened is perhaps an over-exaggeration. Certainly there are not many good things that have happened to me. In fact, a number of bad things have happened to me. Of course, I am speaking within reason here. I have not suffered any bereavements and I am fairly healthy. I’m still playing football in Finland. So on the whole, things still look good. But this has been a week for receiving metaphorical kicks to the gentleman’s region.


The consequences of being out in the open are revealed to the reindeer at Helsinki Airport.

My woes begin with the excruciatingly disappointing trip to Switzerland over the weekend. As you will know by now, we were thoroughly beaten by the Broncos. The best thing I can say about the entire trip is that Chur is a very nice town. The game was played in probably the nicest stadium I have been to. It is nestled in the base of a huge valley so that at either end of the field, the steep mountain faces tower up and pierce the clouds. It is a beautiful setting.


The Broncos' stadium in Chur



Moving swiftly on, the world of Association Football has been treating me particularly badly this week. Walking off the field after a forty point thrashing is quite bad enough. But being immediately met by news of Real Madrid’s victory at the Camp Nou, which hands them the league title on a plate, can bring a man to a new low.

For this to be built upon with the loss of the Champions League and the quite frankly god-like figure of Pep Guardiola in less than a week is just too much. I’m just waiting for Lionel Messi to announce that he’s moving to Manchester United in a swap deal with Michael Carrick.

Other than this feeble clutch of disappointments, there is truly nothing to report. Each day I have been to the gym and I have been to practice. With extremely mixed results. I am desperately trying to busy myself with new activities in order to lift my spirits. I have ditched my Finnish lessons in favour of starting an on line Spanish course. What use is an impossible language that is only spoken in one small country? I have also started helping Peetja to coach the junior teams. There seem to be some good, talented kids ready to be moulded into tomorrow’s Maple Bowl champions.

All joking aside, life is still good. All limbs are still attached and the sun is just beginning to tentatively peek its weary head from behind the ice-cold wall of Scandinavian winter. This Saturday we play Calanda again in the return leg of the EFL game. We fully intend to give a better account of ourselves.