7 Reasons

Tag: Reasons

  • 7 Reasons I Should Sue Disney

    Disney might have a reputation for making child friendly animations, but each and every one of them gave me nightmares. And I can’t be alone. The animators did some bloody scary things when they were colouring in.

    Nightmare 1.  Snow White And The Seven Dwarves. The Queen in Snow White concocts a potion and turns into my then next-door neighbour. As a result of not being able to bring myself to go next door, Disney owe me £45.75. (Or 22 tennis balls, one football and three badminton shuttlecocks).

    [youtube l9GJtM9lN-I Snow White – Queen Becomes The Witch]

    Nightmare 2.  Jungle Book. The slippery snake that is Kaa decides to make his eyes go all funny. Disney owe me two years worth of eyes as that is how long I spent not looking directly at people.

    [youtube TRASn4tcXFE Jungle Book – Kaa Hypnotizes Mowgli]

    Nightmare 3.  The Little Mermaid. The ugliest creation ever. And she wanted to hurt Ariel. Disney owe me a £5000 Hackett voucher for the clothes I ruined using lesser quality soap powders. They only have themselves to blame. If they’d called her Daz…

    [youtube LG8qwzUE1jE The Little Mermaid – Ursula The Witch]

    Nightmare 4.  Fantasia. The whole film was nightmare enough. How long did it last? Two weeks or something? This scene inparticular gave me the creeps though. Dancing broomsticks. Well, actually, not just dancing broomsticks. Dancing broomsticks and a haunting musical accompaniment. Disney owe me house cleaner.

    [youtube R-7Qar1lFjo Fantasia – The Sorcerer’s Apprentice]

    Nightmare 5.  Lady And The Tramp. Not only did the siamese cats look scary, the bloody song made them terrifying. Disney owe me a pet.

    [youtube TpPGE_SKtA4 Lady And The Tramp – Siamese Cats]

    Nightmare 6.  Dumbo. Elephants made out of bubbles. Need I say more. This is probably the single most scary act in any Disney film ever. Disney owe me 3000 litres of soapy water as this is how much I threw out instead of making bubbles from it. You know, just in case.

    [youtube RJv2Mugm2RI Dumbo – Pink Elephants On Parade]

    Nightmare 7.  Bambi’s Mum Dies. Why? Why did this have to happen? What had Bambi’s mum done to the bastard who shot her? From the very moment I saw this – when cinema tickets cost about £1.90 – I was scarred. Disney owe me a deer. Called ‘Mother’.

    [youtube -eHr-9_6hCg Bambi – Bambi’s Mum Dies]

  • 7 Reasons A Cow On The Line Is Not So Bad

    7 Reasons A Cow On The Line Is Not So Bad

    I got stuck behind a cow yesterday. This is my story.

    7 Reasons A Cow On The Line Isn't So Bad

    1.  Reflect…on the countryside and the beauty of it all. The greens and the yellows and the reds and the blues that you always take for granted. The only thing missing is the black and the white. Because it’s on the bloody line in front of you.

     

    2.  Relax…a cow on the line is fairly harmless. Unless it’s two terrorists on the way to pantomime. You should be thankful that it’s only a cow. It could have been Aliens. Or a Polar Bear. Or Von Ryan’s Express. Or Kerry Katona.

     

    3.  Reminisce…about the good times. A time when 3G didn’t exist and so you never got stuck in a train in an area lacking 3G. Remember how you never used to switch your phone off and on to see if that helped. Or held it above your head. Or below your legs. Or below the legs of the person in front of you.

     

    4.  Reacquaint…yourself with good music. Whatever is on your iPod at the time. Edison Lighthouse for example. Within thirteen repetitions of Love Grows (Where My Rosemary* Goes) you’ll be moving again. And people will be wondering what’s making that strange humming noise.

     

    5.  Rejoice…at the thought that those waiting to collect you from the station will not want to hang around in the station car park for an extra half-an-hour. They’ll go for a drive and see a Sainsburys and go in and buy Pork Pies. Which you’ll eat for lunch.

     

    6.  Reaffirm…how proud you are with yourself. It’s hard sitting on a train for 30 minutes longer than planned. Your stomach starts rumbling and the mad-Welsh woman keeps bragging about how good her buffet service is. You can resist that bacon sandwich. You can hang on until lunch. And you feel so much better for it. You feel like a better person. If a cow hadn’t got on the line and you’d have arrived at your destination on time, you’d still be lamenting the fact that you always end up sitting next to a fat person.**

     

    7.  Reason…that an hour after starting, ‘7 Reasons To Be Polite To Inanimate Objects’, it’s looking no better than when the idea formed in your head. There must be something else to write about.

    *For obvious reasons (one of them, not seven), when I am singing this, I don’t use the name Rosemary. I use Jonathan.

    **I’m not fattist. If people want to be fat in their own homes, then that is up to then. But when you are on the train you shouldn’t be so fat that you cause me to have an intimate relationship with the window.

  • 7 Reasons Ironing Is Dangerous

    7 Reasons Ironing Is Dangerous

    7 Reasons Ironing Is Dangerous

    1.  Ironing Board Covers. Goodness knows why man can’t invent a cover that actually fits the ironing board properly. I don’t know, maybe it is just one of those impossible challenges. Like building a pyramid upside down. Anyway, an ironing board cover that decides to flap around and generally not stay where it is meant to, really annoys me. So much so that I might kick out. Unfortunately, the same git who decided not to design the cover properly, also left sharp bits of metal on the underside of the board.

     

    2.  Calluses. In the same way that one might gain calluses on their finger tips as they play the guitar, I am developing them where the fingers meet the palm of the hand. Not dangerous in itself, but a sign that I am developing a reputation for being someone who likes ironing. And that is a very dangerous reputation to live with.

     

    3.  RSI. No not Repetitive Strain Injury, but Ridiculously Short Ironing-Board. How the bloody hell am I supposed to remove all the creases from the duvet cover if I can only iron 12% of its surface area at anyone time? The rest just creases itself on the floor. So I have to do it again. And again. And again. Until I become an addict. And addictions are dangerous.

     

    4.  Trip Hazards. And while we are talking about my duvet cover creasing itself on the floor, I must also point out that it’s also trip hazard. Or at least 88% of it is. Poxy thing. I have enough trouble staying upright as it is. I don’t need props.

     

    5.  RSI. No, not Ridiculously Short Ironing-Board – we’ve dealt with that already – but Repetitive Strain Injury. There are only so many movements you can make with an iron – assuming you are doing the job properly anyway. Right to left or left to right seem to be the only options. I would love to do top to bottom, but whoever invented bras made it impossible.

     

    6.  Sharks. You may be thinking, ‘How they hell do sharks make ironing dangerous?’ Trust me, if you are doing your ironing on a surfboard the last thing you need to worry about is whether your girlfriend is going to notice that iron shaped burn.

     

    7.  People. They generally don’t like it when you iron their clothes. Especially if: (a) they are complete strangers and (b) they are wearing them at the time. Usually this will result in either: (a) a punch, (b) an arrest warrant or (c) both.

  • 7 Reasons I Was So Excited To See That Tiger Woods Had Changed His Putter, I Nearly Wet Myself

    7 Reasons I Was So Excited To See That Tiger Woods Had Changed His Putter, I Nearly Wet Myself

    Yesterday came the startling revelation that Tiger Woods will be going into The Open Championships at St Andrews with a new putter. One couldn’t help but get excited. A bit too excited actually. So many questions, so few answers.

    1.  Will Tiger’s New Putter Help Him Stay Domesticated?

    2.  Will Tiger’s New Putter Get Him Into Even Bigger Holes?

    3.  Will It Come With Attachments For Enhanced Stroke Play?

    4.  Will Tiger’s Old Putter Hunt Down His Unfaithful Master?

    5.  Will The New Putter Have A Cheetah Headcover?

    6.  Will Tiger’s New Putter Let Off Balloons Everytime He Sinks A Short One?

    7.  Is Tiger’s New Putter A Danger To Psychedelic Penguins?

  • 7 Reasons To Plan Your Picnic Carefully

    7 Reasons To Plan Your Picnic Carefully

    Bear Enjoys Picnic1.  Where Are You Going? If you are off to a day of Polo, you probably don’t want to be taking along some of Lidl’s less-than-finest Scotch Eggs. People will look down on you. Even if they are sitting down themselves. And at the other end of the scale, you probably don’t want to be taking along your Selfridges’ Hamper if you’ve managed to get a ticket for Millwall Football Club’s ‘Grand Day Out In Leeds’.

    2.  Do You Have Any Suncream? No? Good. No one is going to mistake it for the mayonnaise then.

    3.  How Much Food Do You Have? This isn’t so much about the number of bags you are taking with you, more the size of the blanket. You don’t want so much food that the only way you can sit down is by playing twister around the sausage rolls. Nor do you want so little food that you wish you’d just brought a flannel instead.

    4.  Do You, Or Anyone You Know, Suffer From Picnic Envy? It’s always a difficult one this, you are happily munching on a pork pie when you suddenly get a whiff of something quite extraordinary. Either than or you spin round and see someone with a better set of cutlery. It’s enough to ruin the atmosphere. And make you play Frisbee a bit closer to those with the Chicken Cordon Bleu than is strictly necessary.

    5.  Have You Checked The Weather Forecast? Even if it says it is going to be sunny and thirty degrees, you can be certain that it will rain. A practical solution, therefore, is to take all-weather food and drink. Melon for instance. And water. Sandwiches are a definite no-no and despite what people say, even the sturdiest of celery sticks can go limp in a thunderstorm.

    6.  Are You Fully Equipped? By this I mean, do you have the bottle opener/corkscrew? The one thing park rangers frown upon is picnickers trying to open a bottle of Cava using irregular practices. Like using the numberplate of their jeep.

    7.  Are You Going Into A Forest? Bears like food. They like people too.

  • Guest Post: 7 Reasons Not To Move House

    Guest Post: 7 Reasons Not To Move House

    Returning to the 7 Reasons sofa for his second stint as a guest poster is student and Muse fanatic Rob. A. Foot. When he’s not loading the back of removal vans he can be found playing his saxophone/piano/harp/french horn/penny whistle (all at the same time) on his blog, There Is Music In The Breakdown.

    7 Reasons Not To Move Home

    1.  Tidying. A horrible piece of collateral that comes with moving. First of all, you have to tidy up the clutter that has gathered around the house since the day you moved in. No matter how tidy you think you’ve kept the house, there’s always more. Looked behind the sideboard? The plant pot? Under the sofa? There’ll be more behind the desk, all those little things that have been knocked off over the years. Good luck picking up all of that rubbish.

    2.  Estate Agents. Widely regarded as the slippery eel career, a nasty necessity of the moving business. First of all you have to show a number of them around your house, just so you can see how much money they think that they can get out of the poor sod who has to buy your house. Then you hand over a key to them. The equivalent of handing the key to heaven to Lucifer, but with slighty less ramifications to all humanity.

    3.  Having people look round your house*. So, you’ve tidied your house, chosen the most ambitious estate agent, now you just have to do one little thing. Find someone who actually wants to buy it. Hmm. That means having people look round. Which means polishing every visible surface until you can see the inevitable fly in the air, hovering around the house and not wanting to leave. Then you leave the house in the hope that the estate agent doesn’t scare off any potential buyers, and that the fly hasn’t started breeding.

    4.  The post-visit call from the estate agent. So, did the people like it? Or did they think that the garden wasn’t big enough for the horses that they planned to get? Well, they’re certainly not going to tell you their concerns to your face, they aren’t going to be that impolite. So, you wait for the call from the estate agent to hear what the damage is, and how little they want to move into your house. So you then repeat steps 3 and 4 until, mercifully, someone decides that they want to buy the house. Then you get more problems for your trouble.

    5. Finding a house. So, you’ve finally managed to sell your house. But, it has taken so long, you’ve lost the original ambition and optimism that arrive with putting the house on the market, when you scouted around for suitable houses. All the houses that looked to be perfect were sold months ago, so you now have to find something that will always pale to that ideal house which you had found. It now becomes a slog as you look round house after house, all with their flaws. Until you give up and go for the least bad house.

    6.  Moving Day. I consider myself a veteran of moving days. Having experienced 7 of these in the 17 years of my life, I’m getting bored of them, to say the least. First, you have to make sure that you have packed everything away in the correct boxes and that they’re sealed up and marked correctly. Then, check that you haven’t left something important and expensive, but small, say, a camera or gold plated iPod, lying in a corner somewhere, waiting to be left behind and found by the next family to live in what was your house. Then you have the fun moment of arriving at the new house and checking through every box to make sure that the removal men haven’t broken anything valuable, say, some expensive china crockery given to your parents as a wedding gift 20 years ago. Then you get to unpack. Fun.

    *7.  The surprise visit. The worst nightmare of any prospective homeseller. The people who “happened to be in the area” with the estate agent decide, on a whim, to have a look round your house. You’re lucky if you get a phone call half an hour before they arrive. So, you have a mad panic to make the house presentable, which, inevitably, doesn’t help much. So you edge around the house while they look round, trying to avoid confrontation, where they may ask what sort of fire is in the hearth, when it is clearly an open fire. This is where a buyer bunker would come in handy. You’d stick it in the bottom of the garden, underground. You could kit it out with all that you need, a digital radio so you can listen to Test Match Special and a packet of Hobnobs.

  • 7 Reasons To Like Andy Murray

    7 Reasons To Like Andy Murray

    7 Reasons To Like Andy Murray

    I know what you’re thinking, ‘Blimey! He’s gone for the impossible post!’ To think like that though, is to underrate my brilliance. Or is it naivety? Either way I am going to do what Andy Murray’s PR Agency has consistently failed to do. Make the miserable, moaning, anti-English, I-don’t-wanna-play-for-the-Davis-Cup-team, tennis supremo, look amiable. Wish me luck.

     

    1.  He Always Comes Back. At least when Murray loses, he fronts up, comes back and takes the flack. And you can’t say that about all Scots. Anyone seen that Scottish Prime Minister we once had?

     

    2.  Money Is Nothing To Him. Andy has confirmed that he would happily play tennis for free. Which is tremendous of him. I would like to announce here and now that I wish to take him up on his offer. All prize money should now be sent to me. Thanks.

     

    3.  Judy Murray. If you don’t like Andy, start now. You are disliking the wrong Murray. Judy is the annoying one. She is the one who thinks Wimbledon is too traditional. And she’s smug. It’s not a good combination. I just look at her and feel annoyed. Try it. It makes you respect Andy. I mean, he has to put up with her all the time.

     

    4.  He Has Restraint. You have to hand it to Andy, how he hasn’t punched Gary Richardson yet is something of a miracle. Along with 90% of the nation, he always looks like he wants to. Whenever he tries to walk from the practice courts to the locker-room, Richardson is there, asking stupid bloody questions. ‘How did practice go today, Andy?’, ‘How are you going to play today, Andy?’, ‘Are they your balls Andy?’. And if that’s not enough, Richardson then does the immediate post-match interview, which, without fail, goes like this, ‘Well done. You’ve won. What’s your reaction?’ Come to think of it, if Murray thumped him then I’d probably like him even more.

     

    5.  COME ON! Remember the days of the Tim Henman fist clench and the whispered, ‘Come on!’? We all used to hate that. We all wanted him to show a bit more emotion. With Murray comes emotion. When Henman won a great point, he’d clench his fist, look to his mother and father and jog to his chair. Then he’d realise it was only 15-40 and he still had two break-points to save. With Murray, it’s completely different. When he has played a great point he’ll come back out of the crowd, scream about Bonnie Prince Charlie, show his muscles and generally get pumped up. In fact, we get to see Murray at his most excitable point. I pity his girlfriend.

     

    6.  He’s Due. I don’t mean a Grand Slam, I mean a smile. The fact is though, that Murray isn’t going to smile until he’s got what he wants. England’s footballers were smiling having been beaten by Germany. Idiots. I only want smiling when you’ve won something. Something major. This is surely what Murray is waiting for. I have faith that he has a great big smile. If we all like him and get behind him, he might just show it to us one day. Possibly on Sunday?

     

    7.  He’s Our Only Hope. The fact remains that without Murray, Briton’s have no one to support. You may as well support me for all the other British players coming through the ranks. And you really should be thankful to Murray that you don’t have to do that. Despite what people say, my drop-volley really isn’t worth your applause.

  • 7 Reasons You Should Never Go To Wimbledon With Me

    7 Reasons You Should Never Go To Wimbledon With Me

    The following is based on a true story. Sadly.

    Rain Clouds At Wimbledon
    It Looks Like Rain

    1.  Rain. That’s what you’ll see when you wake up. Loads of it. ‘Bloody typical,’ you will say, ‘every day at Wimbledon has been hot and sunny this year. Except today. When the roads are flooding’. You’ll then have to decide what clothes to wear. Which is never an easy thing to do. Skirt or trousers. Shoes or flip-flops. Bra or no bra. Okay, the last one was me. And I went bra-less. Once decided, we’ll then make our way to the station where we find the…

    2.  Car Park is packed. Not a space to be seen. We’ll leave the station car park and I will make you drive to all the places in the village that require permits to park. You don’t have a permit. I shall then helpfully ask if you’d ‘just like to go home’. You don’t. You have taken a days holiday for this. You suggest we go to another station where car parking exists. I agree. But on the way, we quickly check our car park of choice again. I step up to the plate and spy a space. You have to circumnavigate a bus and do manoeuvres that make a Rubik cube look simple, but you get in there. Sadly, by the time we have disembarked via the sunroof* we have…

    3.  Missed The Train. We have thirty minutes until the next one, but don’t think you are going to be getting bored because now you are going to use your female charms** and get the nice man at the ticket kiosk to find us the cheapest route to London. He needs to take into account that we have one Network Railcard that comes into use at 10am. It is now 9:15am. The train leaves at 9:36am. It’s a problem that makes him wish he had a Maths GCSE. He succeeds though and the rest of the journey to Wimbledon goes without hiccup. Well, actually, it turns out to be very pleasant indeed. I teach you how to do a suduko and you teach me that I shouldn’t make comments about pictures of women in bikinis. Sadly this is where it goes horribly wrong again. Once inside the All England Club, we will discover that we are too late to get on Court 12 where we would have been able to watch Laura Robson and then Monsour Bahrami and Henri Laconte. Disappointed, I will try and cheer you up by buying you a…

    4.  Hot Dog. Though it had another fancy name that I can no longer remember. But it was a hot dog. A sausage in a roll. That’s a hot dog. Unless it’s a sausage roll. But this wasn’t. It was a hot dog. And I’ve just bought you one. And I’ve bought myself one. We shall walk away towards the ketchup. Here, I shall ask you where my hot dog is. You say you don’t know. I’ve left it behind haven’t I? Yes, I have. I walk back to the hot dog vendor and as casual as it is possible to say, I say, ‘I seem to have forgotten my hot dog’. I feel a bit stupid. You feel a bit stupid about being at Wimbledon with someone so stupid. The sun has come out though, so we go off to…

    5.  Court 5. Here I shall select the seats furthest away from the action. Thankfully, you have a bit more common sense than I do, so after we’ve seen the British Junior – Oliver Golding – win, we move to a better location. Here we watch another British Junior – Eleanor Dean – win. Then comes the match we came to this court to see. Greg Rusedski and Todd Martin against Jonas Bjorkman and Tood Woodbridge. Greg Rusedski injures his quad and at 5-0 in the first set, the match is over. I am beginning to think that there is going to be a 7 Reasons piece in this. You are beginning to think you should never have come to Wimbledon with me. Later, you advance towards jazz music and the champagne bar. I follow you with my…

    6.  Tea and Bourbon Biscuits. I don’t get hints. You realise I don’t get hints – either that or I am not prepared to pay £117 for Champagne when I have – just two hours previously – splashed out £3.30 on a pathetically small ice cream for you. We leave. Ninety-minutes later we are back in the…

    7.  Car Park. There are only four cars left, but, unsurprisingly, given that I am with you, your car is still boxed in. You climb over the bonnet and in through the sunroof and I direct you through a 27-point turn to get out of the space. You are now in touching distance of home. Nothing else can possibly go wrong.***

    *Might be a slight exaggeration, but you definitely do not get out of your door.

    **This won’t work if you’re a man.

    ***Until I start singing ‘I’m Coming Out’ by Diana Ross. All because you told me Spain and Portugal were coming out after half-time.

  • 7 Reasons to be Glad We’re Playing Germany (Again)

    7 Reasons to be Glad We’re Playing Germany (Again)

    It’s been a fraught week at 7 Reasons (.org).  First we upgraded the website, then we redesigned the website, then we had a catastrophic failure of the website which left us offline for a day and then we fixed it, and are still tinkering with it to make it more stable.  This caused confusion.  We didn’t know whose turn it was to post yesterday.  So, being diligent, conscientious humourists, we both wrote one.  Sadly, we found our inspiration in the same subject.  Fortunately though, we both said completely different things so, with apologies to readers in Australia, South Africa and Greece, we’re writing about England versus Germany again today.  And possibly on Monday too (we’re a bit excited by it all).

     

    Germany V England South Africa FIFA World Cup 2010 June 27, the German and English flags and the World Cup 2010 logo Bloemfontein

     

    1.  The Great Escape. As comedy genius Bob Mills has observed, playing The Great Escape theme at England matches is pointless and out of context.  On Sunday though, it could be in context.  If we win, we will liberate ourselves from decades of World Cup tyranny at the hands of Germany.  It actually could be a great escape.  This may be the first match at which hearing The Great Escape played atonally on a trumpet will be meaningful, rather than just primal-scream-inducingly irritating.  Then, perhaps, we won’t have to hear it again.

     

    2.  5-1. The spectre of their ignominious defeat will loom large in the German consciousness.  When we beat Germany 5-1 in Munich in 2001, Steven Gerrard was the architect of a lot that was good about our performance.  And now he’s our captain!  That should put the fear of God into them.  Also, they can’t be unaware of the popular refrain, “5-1, even Heskey scored”, and Heskey’s in the squad too, so the Germans are at a psychological disadvantage before the game even starts. “Nein nein nein, es ist das Ziel Maschine, Heskey” will be the fearful reaction of the Germans upon his introduction to the game.   Gerrard seems really up for it too.  On Wednesday he said of the Germany game, “Bring it on!” .  Well, he said “Brincchhh ii on”, in a voice so high that it startled dogs – I’ve had it translated.

     

    3.  Tyldesley. In commentary on Germany versus Ghana, Clive Tyldesley said, “…it’s a different Germany than we’ve seen in past tournaments”.  This is excellent news.  If Clive is right – and anyone who’s met a man named Clive will know that Clives are never wrong – this can only be good for us.  After all, in past tournaments (except the one where the Russian linesman helped out), the Germany that we’ve seen have knocked us out (often on penalties).  Bring on the different Germany!

     

     

    Fabio Capello pictured outside a Little Chef.
    Fabio Capello: Pictured outside a Little Chef.

    4.  Beer.  Fabio Capello is coming to terms with the new challenges of managing at international tournament level.  When we played well in the match against Slovenia…Slovakia?…no, almost certainly Slovenia,  Fabio Capello attributed our much improved performance to permitting the England squad to drink beer on the night before the game.  Germans, as we know, consume most of their beer in October so their team won’t realise its performance potential until November, by which time the match will definitely be over.  It’s not tennis, after all.  Is that match still going?

     

    5.  Common Bond. Germany and England have so much in common: They eat sausages, we eat sausages; they drink beer, we drink beer; they drive BMWs, we drive BMWs; they dress up in braces and leather hotpants and put a feather in their hatbands and slap each other’s bottoms, we…er…well…we don’t.  Because it’s weird.  But I doubt that lederhosen is what makes them good at penalties and, sooner or later, given that they’re so similar a nation to us, they’ll cock them up.  After all, if the match goes to penalties Germany will have the pressure of expectation weighing on their shoulders.  England certainly won’t.

     

    6.  Confidence. England had an uncertain start to World Cup 2010 but, on the evidence of Wednesday’s performance, we seem to be growing in confidence.  We don’t have the self-possessed surety that the Brazil and Argentina teams seem to be imbued with, but there’s a way that we can attain that: By beating Germany.  If we beat them on Sunday, our team will get the monkey off our back and will feel that they can take anyone on.  The traditional obstacle to England’s progression in world cup tournaments will have been removed and we’ll believe we can accomplish anything.  Except a Heskey goal, obviously, no one (except Germany) expects that.

     

    7.  Defences. The German defence looks suspect.  Ghana created – and spurned – countless opportunities against them.  The most notable of these occurred after thirteen minutes when Germany were totally undone by a fluid passing move at the right hand side of their penalty area.  Sound familiar?  Correct.  That’s the same area that all of the brilliant creative interplay between Gerrard and Rooney took place in the England versus Slovenia match.  They won’t be able to defend against it.  “Take that, Mertesacker!” will be a particularly enjoyable thing to exclaim during the match when we score against them.

    Our defence will be able to contain them.  Most of the good attacking German play in this World Cup has occurred on the wings.  And we have two fantastic fullbacks with Gerrard and Milner in front of them who’ll track back too.  I don’t know what we’ll exclaim when we prevent them from scoring against us.  “Blimey”, probably, or “crumbs”.  But that’s what’s going to happen.  We can win this.  Be glad that we’re playing Germany on Sunday.  Well…at least until kick-off.  Then feel anxious as usual.