Another Friday night brings another dose of kulture and another football free zone TLF (an FFZTLF if you will). This time I’m in Shakespeare Country for a new, gripping and heart-wrenching version of Hecuba.
It’s fair to say Hecuba is in a bit of a snit at the start of the play. She is irked, she is moody, she is distraught, she has, in the vernacular really got the hump. She is facing relegation and her squad is somewhat depleted. Troy Utd have just been gubbed, indeed mullahed by the Greeks, with Agamemnon playing a decisive role upfront. Never mind the headlines, check out the match stats:
Dead husbands: 1
Dead beloved sons: 16
Youngest son in hiding (not long for this world): 1
Beloved grandson thrown to his death by opposition: 1
Remaining daughters (for now): 2…one of whom she can’t stand and has been languishing in the reserves for months.
I guess you can’t blame her really. But on reflection Hec (if I may call you that) I think you’re focussing on the glass half empty and containing something a but dubious. I mean come on..it’s not like you’re going to spend Satday afternoon in full stress mode as yet again you have to monitor the progress of your two favourite Cities via the interweb (and let me tell you there can be some big pauses between the update that advises you have been awarded a penalty and the one that tells you it was scored). Or that both those teams will contrive to concede and have to come from behind again….Nor do you have the prospect of extra time in a midweek cup game against your other half’s team…(ok, ok I do recognise your significant other is dead by this point but don’t split hairs), which you will win but because he is so ill he sleeps through your spit late victory and you feel too guilty about him being ill to exercise your bragging rights.
Then the Greeks sacrifice your remaining and loves daughter because they need a good wind so they can all sail home again?
Well it’s not like your team have slipped to fourth in the Prem or anything is it?
Now that would be a tragedy.