The Carling Cup Has Her Revenge

Few things surprise me in the football world.

Seeing the Arse fans in the away section to my left celebrating; dancing, cheering, chanting after their win against a Tottenham reserve team (bar BAE, the only LB at the club), against half their outfield that started this years final (you can check if you like), was a genuinely surprising moment.

Was this the same competition that, for years, they'd poured scorn over, arrogantly and insolently derided, insulting the ticket paying public by putting out the under 17's against teams of hard-working and honest pro's of the football league, proclaiming at every turn that they were all representative of the future of English football, only for them to shrug and laugh when their team were eventually beaten by a side with enough quality and backbone to knock them out? It’s the Mickey Mouse cup, they’d all say the next day. We’ve got bigger fish to fry. After 6 potless years, they were clearly taking the Carling Cup VERY seriously, and oh how they lorded it up after their (extra-time) victory over OUR reserves, and following the literal song and dance they made over beating us, anything but winning the whole thing from that point would ensure the biggest of embarrassments.

Many have spoken of the scripted nature of Birmingham’s victory yesterday. One of those High School movie scripts where there’s a bird who looks good on the outside, but is actually a bit vapid and callow (Arse), and spends the entire movie ignoring and insulting the geek (Carling Cup). The epiphany moment comes when she realises that she’s actually not that special and sheepishly goes off grovelling to the geek for love. Even though she’s going out on a bit of a limb, she’s still thinking that all she’ll  have to do is show up, look pretty and the geek will embrace her. Her horror on learning that the not-so-hot bird, but with plenty of pluck and spirit (Birmingham) has claimed the geeks heart, leaves her crushed and embarrassed with nothing to do but reflect upon her own past arrogance and then wonder why the whole school (entire football watching public) are whooping and cheering as the geek and the not-so-hot bird stroll off into the sunset. OK, it’s no ‘Pulp Fiction’, but it made for some powerful theatre. People (me) spoke of a classic good triumphing over evil script when we beat chelski, and Birmingham’s win was no less just. The Carling Cup, victim of the most blatant disrespect from the arse over the years, had her revenge, and how sweet it was.

Wengers outstretched arms whilst wrapped up in his touchline sleeping bag, pat rice’s glum, useless, head shaking, wilshere’s tears, the devastated arse fans, Steven Carr’s roar, errant water bottles, paul mersons stupid face, fabregas and his come-and-get-me-barca look, sneezy and konkey and their ‘Danny Bakers Footie Gaffs’ moment, and the utter humiliation, usually the exclusive of THFC Plc, say more eloquently than I could ever hope to do, that this was a great day for football fans everywhere. Especially those in the blue half of Birmingham, who thoroughly deserved their moment of glory.