Why always Us?

November 23rd, 2011 | by: gadsby | Comments Off

On the unique situation of Mario Balotelli, many cathartically copious column (I love an alliteration) inches have been ejaculated out into the fore of the blogging main in a  futile Haigian attempt to forward the tea cabinet of football understanding another 5 or so inches closer to Berlin, and it is a subject that probably equals racism on the contemporary bandwagon of building a career, a reputation, and a thunderous egomaniacal complex in the ancient and once respectable field of writing on the back of an issue that the writer has little interest nor passion for, and simply adds poetry and respectability to unenlightening common wisdom that you would think people would recognize for the cheap pot-shot at their intelligence that it is. Of course, I would never do such a thing as this, and so I will endeavour to bring to your doorstep an insightful, reflective, and most rigorous investigation on this always provoking issue. That, or most likely just another Mario Balotelli column to fill up space.

Yes, the winds of change are blowing, and the tides are coming in. The order of things in football  is being turned on it’s head and spat at by Lady Fate (got through that metaphor without saying “seduction”). The Serie A table is currently by three clubs only the past decade in Serie B, and propped up by the scudetto winners of the last 5 out of 6 years. Elsewhere on the peninsula, Sebastian Giovinco has found playing time, Sampdoria are mid table in the Serie B, and elsewhere, in England, Mario Balotelli is actually playing quite well.

Mario Balotelli has made great strides of late. It seems only yesterday that I was driving down the beautiful lake roads of British Columbia while mentally composing angry letters directed at him to Calcio Italia, which, like a poem once written so long ago for a hypothetical Mrs. Gadsby, I never ended up writing down, let alone sending them. As an interesting side note, that poem was actually copied by the German new wave group Trio, who, I believe, made quite a fair penny out of it, just as the base content of my letters was copied by so many Daily Mail columnists, who are like the literary equivalent of Trio.

Anyway, we’re here to talk about Mario Balotelli, even if Balotelli has been what I am talking about the whole time, in a way. Mario Balotelli has made astounding strides, as I mentioned, proving himself a far cry from the disappointing, half baked specimen he was at Inter and his first season at Manchester City, being disciplined excellently by the oft-ridiculed Roberto Mancini. He has impressed greatly at City, and carried on his excellent form into La Nazionale. His future is as bright as Christian Vieri’s teeth, and will likely have the richness and variation of the 2009 Confederations cup shirt. He has confined his madness simply to off of the pitch, and while yes, he does occasionally shoot off a few fireworks in the direction of the local women’s prison, he hasn’t actually thrown darts at anyone in a while, and many other players have done some dartery in the past, so, to be quite honest, it is not as big of a deal as the average football fan (there’s one born every minute) makes it out to be.

Mario Balotelli is, in my opinion, the future of La Nazionale, and also the present. It is a great shame that he is left to rot in England, beyond the realm of civilization, and it would be in the interest of football if any Italian club, preferably Palermo (though it won’t happen), were to retrieve him from that green and verdant hell on earth. We live in hope.

Gadsby is equally uninteresting and provides little insight on twitter. You should still follow him, mind @FJGadsby