"Its a match of great memories, and there's more memories to come" blurted Mark Hughes at the end of normal time.
"Both goalkeepers must be dreaming, while concentrating, of course" offered David Pleat with 10 minutes of non-normal time remaining.
"Peter Kenyon, you're a wanker, you're a wanker" - Mancunian Realism greeting the most unpleasant man at Chelsea, apart from all the other unpleasant men at Chelsea, that would be.
This was, by some considerable distance, the most Real occurrence in a Hyperreal Extravaganza. For Peter Kenyon is, undoubtedly, a wanker. And, he's becoming a serial loser too. Of course, it will not cross his mind that things might have been just a little bit different if Jose was still around.
If you're having a tough day, visualise Mourinho's face as Terry's shot hit the post or following the vastly overrated Anelka's amateurish spotkick...
We had a very complicated range of positions on the Champions League Final although we still managed to come out very slightly down on the event. The market complexity was evolving in real-time and rarely have we been more proactively involved in some of the more abstract areas of input eg creative arbitrage. The dichotomous nature of the television commentaries compared with our Trader's intranet linkage was entertaining. The narratives would suggest that we were each observing very different events but, behind some of those media narratives, there is a shared knowledge on the Illusion taking place.
We are not going to detail the various inputs to last night's event beyond suggesting that one match official, one player, one owner, one federation president, the impact of one season long corruption and the market posturing of a few leading bookmakers, determined the outcome. Each of these inputs had their own particular dynamic - the proprietary betting undertaken by one insider is heavily rumoured from good sources to have been on the 90 minute market, for instance. The dominant dynamic, however, became that of a United victory as one of the core power bases took a firm grip on the outcome in extra time.
Still, it was exciting in its way. Two teams, with £1.5 billion worth of debt, slugging out at 2am in Gazprom City, having bought their way both via debt and the purchase of match outcomes to be present at this, the biggest branded hyper-event. This didn't matter to Carlos Tevez who is the main reason Ronaldo is getting all those goals. Tevez should have been Player of the Year, just like Paul Ince should have been the League Managers Association (LMA) League Two Manager of the Year. Evidently, Las Islas Malvinas have not been forgotten yet while the racism implied in the Ince decision is an outrage. All other League Title winning managers received the LMA gong apart from the one Black manager, you're messing...
Chelsea are non-sustainable. David Conn is totally correct in itemising the degree to which they are beholden to Roman. If the smugly-grinning-one were to take his investments elsewhere, Chelsea would have only 18 months to repay a loan of £578 million - its going to take some serious betting on the Far East markets to clear that little debt... Chelsea are merely running towards a cliff edge at speed, picking up as many of the scattered dollars as they can in the meantime...
The Illusion must be sold. The match itself stood up as a pseudo-competitive event. It is just that there were a number of corrupt influences attempting to gain control of the event for proprietary and/or organisational benefit. Sometimes these multi-rigged events deteriorate into farce on the pitch but the majority of the players were in the right territory of focus. Just in case the match did the damp squib thing, a spectrum of emotional sub-plots were attached to the brand. These served as a temporary link between the Hyperreal Spectacle and the lives-of-normal-people. Paul Scholes playing after heartbreak; Frank Lampard playing after heartbreak; Bobby Charlton (and other invisible Munich survivors) attending after heartbreak; Ryan Giggs beating Bobby Charlton's record for number of match appearances but Bobby was so immersed in heartbreak that he forgot to applaud the passing of his record.
A day earlier, the funeral of Tommy Burns took place while tonight the Scottish Premier League (SPL) Title will be decided. All of this overload of Spectacle and Emotion, I want to be back on the beach.
I managed to be in Athens when Manchester held the Commonwealth Games and in Manchester when Athens held the Olympics; I was in Manchester when Greece won Euro 2004 and I was in Kerkyra when god's-own-city was wrecked by an uncouth hun. Fear of the Spectacle, perhaps. As a result of the latter great sporting occasion, there are still high level hyperreal deliberations taking place between the self-elective to determine whether the Reality of a Celebration for the Disenfranchised is allowed to welcome the Mancunian Giants back home. A society which is used to highly marketed pseudo-promotions should not be allowed room for anything so independent as self-expression. Unless Britain really has become totally Orwellian, a Parade must ensue. What is it with the English? Can you imagine Rio (de Janeiro, rather than Ferdinand... although, thinking about it...) having any qualms about having a Party? Paris? Roma? Madrid? In fact, anywhere else on the planet?
Its a People's Celebration. A Power Base controlled the Final. The Illusion has been Sold. A Power Team has defeated another Power Team. Twice. And, Peter Kenyon is a wanker.
We are in ecstasy. We demand that Richard Scudamore, Gordon Smith and Michel Platini get together and provide us with a Super Summer Of Play-Offs. We are convinced. Scudamore is Prescient. Every single day somewhere on the globe, Celtic will play Rangers or Chelsea will play Manchester United to determine the Hyperreal Winners of The Products. In no time, the Illusion will become the equivalent of the Virtual Sports aka Virtual Betting Manipulations offered by the leading bookmakers. There is a Virtual Horserace at Coral Downs every two minutes 24/7, they proudly boast. It won't matter that the crowds will make the few hundred that turned up to watch rudderless Manchester City lose 3-1 to a Thai All Stars XI (Thai? All Stars?) seem like an atmosphere. As City spontaneously combust, Shinawatra's hissy fit and a 8-1 mauling, United do the Double while FC United of Manchester achieved a third consecutive promotion after beating Skelmersdale 4-1. Not too many Blues out there taking in the rays...
If Celtic win the SPL Title tonight, we feel that we will have played a small and yet significant part in their Title Success. In recent months, our range of negotiations and meetings have included two individuals who are close to Craig Levein, the manager of Dundee United. Levein's reaction to the conspiratorial events at Ibrox when his team were fairly and squarely corrupted in a 3-1 defeat was a product of conversations that we, effectively, initiated. The crass stupidity of the officiating in that match made any further public manipulations at Motherwell a much riskier Hyperreal Scam. A primary rule of corruption is "don't do it when they're looking". So, assuming nothing untoward goes on tonight - a reasonable assumption or not? - we feel that we should be able to wear one of those little Gold Stars that winners wear on their merchandise when they have won a Big Prize.
We're also aware that our information was utilised by Mohammad al-Fayed and Roy Hodgson when they had a meeting with Keith Hackett, the Chief Scudamoric Officer at the PGMOB, to complain about the corruptions undertaken against Fulham's interests. Following this meeting and an acceptance of deep state justice, Fulham survived and Hodgson deservedly received a £1 million bonus.
And us, we just feel really really good, like really good, that we helped prevent two Illusory Injustices.
For Nothing... In fact, it cost us financially... Its little wonder that everybody still wants to talk with us...
Still, we're not Bitter. We've got our Gold Stars.
And, at least Celtic have won the League???
Dostoyevsky: "Once you have mathematical certainty... there will be nothing left but to bottle up your five senses and plunge into contemplation".
© Football Is Fixed/Dietrological
