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3 Stacks

My Column: Do the Right Thing Villa: Free Jacky G

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Written by : 3 Stacks.

 

As any hopeless romantic knows, love is a fleeting emotion. It is ever so hard to find, but when we do find it, our previously dour lives gain meaning. This is why we crave love, we chase love. And when we find that special person who makes us feel, we are willing to do anything for them. This is why I was compelled to write this article. 

 

I never thought I would find another. When I first laid eyes on that lovely French-Tunisian lad I thought; this is it. The tanned caramel skin tone, the curly brush cut, the left peg crafted by the Gods themselves. I gave my heart to Hatem Ben Arfa. I followed first, his stint on the North East at Newcastle, where he dazzled Geordies with his tantalizing skill. I remember where I was when I watched his solo goal against Bolton Wanderers. I'll never forget that moment. I supported him through the hard times, because that's what love is all about. Although, I couldn't bring myself to watch him at Hull. There are limits after all. But my joy rekindled during his time at Nice and, subsequently, at Rennes. His time at PSG in the middle of those two stops, I'd rather not talk about. Too emotionally charged. Too painful. I still haven't recovered from the heartache, although better times followed.

 

As shown, love has its ups and downs. And now, with Hatem being out of work I thought that was it. Was my first footballing true love going to be my only experience of this wonderful emotion that we all cherish so much as human beings? Was this tumultuous relationship destined to be a singular experience with no other player able to fully capture my heart?

 

And then, this season, I saw. I saw him. And wonderfully, my heart skipped a beat, once more. The slicked back blond-streaked mane, the low shin pads revealing the greatest legs I'd ever seen since a young Alison Brie, the way time seems to stop when he gets on the ball. Jacky Fucking Grealish. Stay still my beating heart.

 

When I first saw him for a few fleeting moments in the Championship, I was intrigued. You could say I gave him a double-take. But unfortunately, it wasn't yet meant to be. The timing wasn't right. Wrong place, wrong time. Do you think for one second I was going to be watching the Championship? Absolutely not. But in the right circumstances, could I give him a chance? Absolutely.

 

And then, that chance came. Jacky G led his team to the Premier League. It's like the smoke show I was admiring from afar, bumping into from time to time, moved right next door. And so I acquainted myself with him, watching Villa every chance I got. And when I first did, let me tell you, I felt the sparks immediately. The control he had over the ball. Mesmerizing. But I wanted to see more. Like a great first couple of dates that makes you wonder what lies in store. And then, the end product. The deft left-footed finish against Norwich, the match-winning performance against Brighton, the world class curler vs. Man United, the low fizzer against Leicester, and the cracking half-volley vs. Southampton. Moments that confirm what you're feeling is real.

 

And boy was it real. But that's often not the issue. When we find that special someone, that feeling that they give us in isolation is often enough to blind us to trouble. What is this trouble, you may ask? Villa are terrible. Unwatchable. Jacky G is its lone guiding light. Its shining beacon. It is beyond painful watching him, alone, fighting off the desperate challenges of thugs around Britain, as his team play pedestrian football on its way to losing comfortably to the likes of Sheffield United and Southampton. Even in victory, such as today against Norwich, he cuts a depressed figure. Letting out sighs of frustration as Matt Targett once again, hoofs the ball up the field instead of finding his talisman, rushing towards him like a knight in shining armour to give him an option to play it short. 

 

And so this is my plea to Aston Villa Football Club: Please let him leave, this January, or this summer. Let him lead his own life. Let him run to greater pastures. The man I have found space for in my heart once again has a dysfunctional family around him trying to drag him down. He has so much potential. Get him away from the shouting matches, the drugs, the alcoholism, the bad neighborhood. Set him free from his broken home and let him go to a better one. Let him realize his potential. My former love could never escape the clutches of mediocrity around him and it broke him. Don't let the same happen to my new love. If you truly care for him. 

 

Thanks for reading. 

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What happened to Mike Hooper? The strong, silent type. That was a footballer. He wasn’t in touch with his feelings. He just did what he had to do. See, what they didn’t know was once they got Mike Hooper in touch with his feelings that they wouldn’t be able to shut him up! And then it’s dysfunction this, and dysfunction that, and dysfunction vaffancul!

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10 minutes ago, 3 Stacks said:

Appreciate the support. I poured my heart and soul onto my keyboard for this one. 

As long as you didn't spill your gin onto it 

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hiuIJLs.jpg

 

 

Captain silverlining’s legs have long gone but retains his place having graciously agreed a pay-as-you-play one year deal. His new partner at CB is Durango, a gimp for whom the descriptions Lard of the Rings, chaircrushing human greasegun, and PURE CUNT WITH LASHINGS OF FUCK OFF FAT BASTARD are regularly ascribed. His critics are less kind.

A blend of youth and experience in defence is provided by the promotion of SCOUSER17UK and FrenchEyeGlass. The former has endured a shaky introduction to gimp life, having – by his own admission – struggled with the language. FEG has been knocking on the dungeon door for years and this stoic commitment to remaining ‘in the red’ has paid off. Congratulations, son.

Red Nick was a controversial omission last season but earned his starting berth with some stellar performances in the MF. A loose cannon, what he lacks in nuance Nick makes up for in bona fide, 110% certifiable shoulderchewing mental illness. Unplayable on his day but, for the love of God, never approach this gimp in the showers.

Funnneeeee, Antynwa, Code72 and celeryBADboy (the autist formerly known as simon) are all established first-team gimps; the 'split spine' of the side – the spina bifida.

Big money signing FanchesterCity blew a hole in dave u’s budget luring him from Bluemoon but he links effortlessly up front with veteran xerxes. An unconventional small man-smaller man combo, these two browbeat opposition defences with their mix of haughty condescension and humourless cuntfuckery. xerxes favours the long game and will attack balls in the ayre all day, night, week, month and tax year long.

There’s been a lot made of the questionable call to jettison BringBackBiscan, especially at a time when TLW is woefully gimpless. The guy had everything in his locker to be a world-class WUM but for various reasons (turning up drunk; sectarianism; psychopathy) he was never going to make it here. He goes with our best wishes and on the understanding that if he is to return, he needs to change his style.

 

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Oh, I suppose you think I shouldn't be concerned about the love of my life having to spend time among violent criminals just because she wants to properly learn how to use computers?

 

Maybe if you ever found it in yourself to love and be loved by another human being, you soulless husk of a man, then you wouldn't be such a nasty little gobshite.

 

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That was harder to follow than the last Jedi. 

 

I sort of re-read it a couple of times and I think the gist is that he wants Jack Grealish, who he is in love with to leave Aston Villa. 

 

I don't necessarily disagree on that one. Don't strongly agree don't strongly disagree. 

 

I hope you get your wish. 

 

 

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1 minute ago, 3 Stacks said:

I'm not doing anything different. If something compels my to write, I'll write. 

Yeah probably best to find a new hobby. 

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