Up the Boro

As previously stated on this blog, the most masochistic and self-degrading aspect of my character is my inability to stop supporting Middlesbrough FC. I moved away from the town eight and a half years ago, have been back only twice since, and don't really know anyone who lives there anymore, but for some reason (and despite a few conscious attempts) I can't seem to shake the feelings of despondency when they mess up (often) and elation when they succeed (rare).


I have found in recent weeks, however, that supporting the Boro has been a less debilitating condition than usual. During all the long years that I have taken an interest, their most infuriating characteristic has been the ability to play well and get good results against the big teams, only to slump to standards of unbelievable mediocrity against the lesser ones. In recent seasons this has been particularly evident. Last season, we beat Chelsea, Man Utd and Arsenal at home, but were also the only team in the entire league to lose a match against Sunderland, who finished bottom of the table with a record-lowest points total.

During the first half of this season, we once again beat Chelsea at the Riverside, and drew our away games against Arsenal and Liverpool, but guess what?! We were beaten by all three of the newly promoted teams, (Reading, Sheffield United and Watford) two of whom are currently languishing at the bottom of the league. This can all get very frustrating. If you had told me two months ago that Middlesbrough's next two games were away to Man Utd, then at home to Charlton, I honestly, honestly would have been more confident of a victory at Old Trafford.


However, as mentioned, I have noticed a rather subtle and very pleasing change in recent weeks. On Tuesday night, we battled to victory in an FA cup tie against lowly Bristol City, of League One. The score after extra time was 2-2, and we needed a penalty shoot-out to beat them. An embarassment for the Premiership side, then? Not at all. That was exactly the kind of game in which, until recently, Middlesbrough would have caved in, stopped trying, and allowed the lower-league boys to record a famous win. We had a similarly scrappy, roll-up-your-sleeves-and-fight type win against Hull City in the previous round of the FA Cup. In the league we have, since Christmas, beaten Sheffield United, Charlton and Bolton Wanderers, and got a point away to Portsmouth (read it and weep, Bastable!). Most, if not all of these games would normally have resulted in humiliating failure.


Even the recent 3-0 defeat against Chelsea didn't dampen my spirits - it's Chelsea, for goodness sake! We shouldn't be beating a team who have become to professional football what Tesco is to retail. We should be able to pick up points against the likes of Charlton, Sheffield United and Portsmouth (weep again, Bastable!), and recently, that's exactly what we've been doing.


Of course, no fan is more familiar with false hope than a Boro fan. Let's wait and see where we finish this season. For the time being, though, Gareth Southgate seems to be successfully motivating the likes of Viduka, Xavier and Yakubu (one last sob, Andy) to actually bother to try, and the enthusiasm of local young players like Stewart Downing, James Morrison and Andrew Davies bodes well for the future.


It is only fitting for me to conclude with one of the wonderfully inventive terrace refrains I remember from my boyhood days:

You are my Boro, my only Boro.

You make me happy, when skies are grey.

You'll never know, dear, how much I love you.

Please don't take, my Boro, away.

Unsuitable for children

Macavity's a mystery cat,

He's called the Hidden Paw.

For he's a master criminal,

Who can defy the law.

He's the bafflement of Scotland Yard,

The Flying Squad's despair.

For when a crime's discovered, then

Macavity's not there.

(T.S. Eliot)

I was simultaneously amused, inrigued and terrifed when, pulling into my parking space behind the house a few weeks ago, I saw this monstrosity staring down at me from the neighbour's garage roof. I immediately dashed into the house to get the camera, certain that never again would I get such a good opportunity to capture purest evil in photographic form.

I mean, what the dickens is THAT??! I would be too terrified to sleep at night if I was the owner of that thing! I am tempted to use the picture as a disciplinary tool at school. Even the rowdiest class would be reduced to silent whimpering by the sight of such a hideous monster.

I have not seen this cat near the house either before or since. Perhaps it was a visitation from the Underworld. Perhaps it never existed at all, and was some form of nightmarish apparition. Either way, I hope that, whilst staring at it in a state of morbid, transfixed awe, it didn't steal my soul.

Blood Diamond

Went to see this movie with Paddy, the Cooks and Chris Redstall last night.

I think the most satisfying movie experience you can have is going to see a film that you've never heard of, have no pre-suppositions about whatsoever, and then get blown away by. That's exactly what happened with this little gem (pardon the pun!).

Firstly, let's get one thing straight. Leonardo di Caprio is a flippin' good actor. His reputation seems to have been forever tainted by Titanic, and yet anyone who has seen What's Eating Gilbert Grape?, The Avaiator, The Departed, and now this movie can surely have no doubts about his talent. He has a magnetic screen presence, and almost always brings a real depth of understanding and emotion to the variety of characters he has played. His South African accent was (almost!) impeccable in this film, even including the quirky 'hm?' at the end of every statement!

In Blood Diamond, he plays a diamond smuggler based in Sierra Leone, who teams up with a native fisherman (Djimon Hounsou - also fantastic). Hounsou is searching for his son, who has been kidnapped and brainwashed by the RUF, an army of brutal guerrila rebels who trade diamonds for arms. Whilst working as a slave for the RUF, Hounsou had found and hidden a huge diamond, and in return for helping him find his son, Di Caprio insists that Hounsou show him where the stone is hidden.

Although at times quite sickening in its portrayal of hideous violence, the movie is full of hope. Shots of RUF members gunning down women and children are counter-balanced by panoramic views of stunning African scenery, and Di Caprio's character, whilst unquestionably portrayed as a crook at the beginning of the film, goes through a moving and entirely believable process of redemption and repentance.

The only problem with the film is that it uncovers the horrific realities of a trade which most of us never have anything to do with. I wish I was a regular diamond buyer, so that, out of protest, I could stop! I don't think I've seen anything that has so convincingly tugged at the heart-strings since The Lion King, at the age of 13! The scenes between Hounsou and his son almost moved me to tears, and honestly that doesn't happen often - I think my resistance would have broken entirely if I hadn't had Alex Cook on one side and Paddy on the other!

One warning: I could watch this with a (relatively) clear conscience, because I don't own and have never bought a diamond. If you do, or if you have, then just be aware that you may be tempted to throw it away or sell it after seeing this!