And I was so in love I thought I knew what love was all about

Thought it'd be nice to work out how to stick Youtube videos onto here. So now I know, whilst thirteen-year olds across the world smirk at my technological naivete.

Ruddy beautiful song though. Please come to England, Jens.

"Sky sponsored 'Silly Season' sucks", says scribe

This time of the year, we are told by influential men who wear white coats sponsored by E-on, is officially known as Silly Season. When the overblown magniloquent Jabba The Hut that is football continues to rear it's unnecessary and unwanted head, spewing transfer filth to arouse expectant proles, dependant on their daily football fix.

We are told how Liverpool are to sign countless young Frenchman; how Real Madrid will splash filthy lucre on superstars; that Spurs are interested in all number of average English talent; that Manchester City want to buy all the disaffected strikers in the world (what's with this? Is Sparky aiming to go back to the 1880's and playing 2-3-5?); that Stoke and Hull are desperately seeking quality to plug the inevitability of 'Second season syndrome'.

I don't care. There's an Ashes on, man!

Ideally, the summer is a time for perspective. One remembers that there is such a thing as 'outside'. That the sun is a friend and releases happy chemicals in your brain. That Blur are the best festival band ever. That beer tastes fantastic in the park. That it's nice because you can see your girlfriend on a Sunday afternoon. One remembers that other sports exist.

The beauty of the start of the football season in mid-August is the drought that precedes it. The scouring the back pages and pretending to care about Athletics. Enjoying the cricket season (if that's possible with the Aussies here). Watching the Lions fail.

Instead, spurious transfer stories still cover the back pages like a lingering fart that just won't go away. The Sky Sports yellow news ticker continues to whizz around the bottom of the screen telling us about Vincent Kompany's bad foot or how Matthew Etherington scored against no-one in particular. Football in this country - and probably around the world - has become a bloated behemoth, stretching around the year, flatulent and stinking the place out.

Here's hoping for an Ashes win to revive some perspective in this country.

....Oh. Silly season is it then.

Oh.

Sorry, I've not been about recently. I've actually been busy, interviews for jobs, travelling on coaches, seeing Blur in Hyde Park (amazing, but not amazing like in Southend), playing and watching tennis (haha Murray) et cetera et cetera.

Turns out there was a team that wanted little Mickey... The English champions. It will be interesting to see how often (or not) Owen features for Manchester United, but the more one thinks about the move, the more it makes a little sense.

Weird as it may seem, United seems a sensible choice for Owen. He showed he was unable to lead the attack for a struggling team at Newcastle, and could well been an expensive flop for a team like Hull, who were linked with the little marksman. Whereas at United, he'll sit on the bench most the time and occasionally pop up and score a goal or two when United are desperate. Everyone's a winner. Apart from Liverpool fans, whose former darling now sleeps with the enemy.

Michael scores momentous Owen goal

Recently, I've had the enormous pleasure of reading one of British football's greatest literary works. A publication so entertaining, so well-written, with such fantastic sense of irony. There was no doubt in my mind that this masterpiece belonged in the highest echelons of the sporting literary world.

The book? Michael Owen: Summer 2009. A 32 page - THIRTY-TWO PAGE - document produced by Owen's (clearly top-class) PR company Wasserman Media Group, sent out to all Premiership and leading European clubs last week. The phrase 'PR Disaster' does not encompass this almighty aberration of a publicity campaign. This is a PR apocalypse
.
Indeed, our Michael is described in this masterpiece, amongst other things, as;

"Charismatic"
"Young"
"Clean and fresh" (adjacent to a picture of a stubbly Michael)
"First class"
"Articulate"

Best of the lot though, is the fantastic claim that 'were it not for an unhappy spell at Real Madrid and two injury scarred years at Newcastle, he would be spoken in the same breath as Torres or Ronaldo.' We presume the writer is discussing Sergio Torres, the out of favour Peterborough United striker, and the rotund Ronaldo, in the brief hours when he was laid incapacitated during knee ligament surgery.

All this is all another sad episode for a player who burst on the world scene 11 years ago in Saint-Etienne. The reasons may be many for Owen's decline - injuries, poor management and bad luck have all had their effect on the Englishman - but the most palpable reason is that little Michael now exists in a football world that has, at the very top at least, evolved away from his skill set.

Owen is a classic English No. 10, eye for goal; diminutive figure; great balance, but for the classic English No. 10 to be successful, he needs a Number 9. A strike partner. At the top level of todays game, the traditional front pairing is becoming more and more obsolete, as teams continue to pack midfields, and defend and attack as a team. All of which explains Owen's fallout with Gérard Houllier and Rafa Benitez at Liverpool, and his lack of chances at Real Madrid, and more recently, his lack of involvement in Fabio Capello's England.

Tob clubs nowadays cannot accommodate a player merely to score goals. A modern-day striker must do more than that, and the likes of Drogba, Torres, Eto'o and Ronaldo all clearly do that. Each are capable of not just scoring, but being a battering ram. Each not only score goals of individual genius, but hold up play and link others in. Owen, for all the persuasive noises his goalscoring record makes, is a depressingly limited striker.

So where now for our charismatic goalscorer? Owen could lower his standards and become an impact substitute for a Liverpool or Villa-type, but one suggests his ego would veto that. Hull have been making flirtaceous glances, and it is likely this is the sort of club where he'll end up, a middling Premier League side keen for publicity, and the kind of limited ambition that can accommodate a goalscorer out of sync with the modern world.

This weekend also

Has the dubious title of being a 'Potentially Great Weekend'.

As today is the second annual Beer, Sports, Ethics and Values Day, a day where some of the greatest sportsmen and competitors in the local area congregate to play a variety of sports and drink. The Ethics and Values underline our dedication to fair play and sportsmanship, and act as a handy alibi to accusations of grown men drinking illegally in a childrens park.

To demonstrate some of the great minds we'll be dealing with on BSEV day, here's a list of bread puns baked up (I thankyou), after Mr James Warburton scandalously decided not to attend this day of such grace and magnitude.

Philip Woodward wrote at 19:50 on 07 June 2009 maybe he's scared of making a BLOOMER on the most important day of the year! Delete

Lee Belcher (Bristol) wrote at 13:38 on 06 June 2009 Well we cant stick him in goal... what with his butter fingers. Report

Nathan Keegan (Uni. Reading) wrote at 21:07 on 05 June 2009 hey james wateva uve got planned on the 20th mayb u cud come 2 this aswell and have the BEST OF BOTH worlds?! Report

Nathan Keegan (Uni. Reading) wrote at 20:52 on 05 June 2009 mayb hes going 2 the beach 2 play in the sand wich would b fun! Report

Nathan Keegan (Uni. Reading) wrote at 16:22 on 05 June 2009 And in fact id go as far as 2 say id eat him 4 breakfast if he did make an appearance! Report

Nathan Keegan (Uni. Reading) wrote at 16:20 on 05 June 2009 yeah ur rite bob he mite b abit crusty. If he does come then he'll be toast! Report

Bobby Mitchell wrote at 15:39 on 05 June 2009 he could be busy going out for a wholemeal with his family!? Report

Bobby Mitchell wrote at 15:36 on 05 June 2009 maybe his sport skills are a lil bit crusty? scared 2 step up to the plate! Report

Bobby Mitchell wrote at 15:34 on 05 June 2009 personally i think he would enjoy gettin a SLICE of the action! Report

Bobby Mitchell wrote at 15:32 on 05 June 2009 oi leave him alone you two! he might just have to see his naan or something! ;) Report

Nathan Keegan (Uni. Reading) wrote at 13:25 on 05 June 2009 well a flour mite b a bad idea, but we cud def butter him up sumhow Report

Nathan Keegan (Uni. Reading) wrote at 13:21 on 05 June 2009 mayb if we buy him a flour he mite come? Report

Nathan Keegan (Uni. Reading) wrote at 13:21 on 05 June 2009 this really is loaf out loud fun, come on ppl join in Report

Nathan Keegan (Uni. Reading) wrote at 12:45 on 05 June 2009 mind u if the weather stays like this then hes guna b baking out there Report

Nathan Keegan (Uni. Reading) wrote at 12:43 on 05 June 2009 come on james roll up roll up

Philip Woodward wrote at 12:41 on 05 June 2009 if he is gonna come though, james baguette himself ready! Delete

Philip Woodward wrote at 12:39 on 05 June 2009 yeah, we should have given him a week at yeast Delete

Nathan Keegan (Uni. Reading) wrote at 12:38 on 05 June 2009 i mean weve barley given him a chance 2 reconsider really! Report

Nathan Keegan (Uni. Reading) wrote at 12:36 on 05 June 2009 we best wheat a minute, u never know he might come after all. Report

Philip Woodward wrote at 12:36 on 05 June 2009 seriously though, i hope james feels ciabatta soon. Delete

Philip Woodward wrote at 12:35 on 05 June 2009 james warburton - wanted bread or alive!! Delete

Philip Woodward wrote at 12:34 on 05 June 2009 bravo nathan. something's clearly gone 'a-rye' for james to miss out... Delete

Nathan Keegan (Uni. Reading) wrote at 22:49 on 04 June 2009 just goes against the grain really not 2 come 2 such a fine event. He must be feeling abit stale about it all Report

Nathan Keegan (Uni. Reading) wrote at 22:03 on 04 June 2009mayb he just kneads 2 rest his legs 4 a big footy match or something? Report

Philip Woodward wrote at 17:47 on 04 June 2009 he might not have enough dough to go out? Delete

Philip Woodward wrote at 17:46 on 04 June 2009 or maybe he just wants to go to bread early on the evening of the 20th Delete

Philip Woodward wrote at 17:44 on 04 June 2009 and we must not have put enough yeast in him, cos warburton is not rising to the occasion Delete

Philip Woodward wrote at 17:44 on 04 June 2009 I LOAF to see james warburton abandoning this famous event

For Tomorow (I see Blur)

I'm in Southend tomorow, seeing Blur. BRILLIANT.

I discovered I loved Blur just after they finished touring Think Tank, some 6 or so years ago, and now they're back on the road (with Coxon, weeeee!) and as such, it's gonna be a Blurry summer. Well, a Blurry two weeks.

I'm very excited, and I plan to just stand and stare at Graham Coxon, something that I tried to do when he was touring with his band a few years back. But when he's singing moddy punk songs, with youngthings behind him, it just didn't suffice. This time, he'll be ringing mental guitar noises in contempt of Damon Albarn's lovelorn cooing and fro-ing, and I fully expect to be transfixed. "So THAT'S how you play Chemical World!".

Setanta's ambitions conceded as pie in the Sky

On top of a hill, far far away, in deepest darkest Eastern Europe - let's say, Transylvania - there lies a castle, a building tall and sinister standing menacingly amidst it's surrounding area.

If you get inside said building, the first thing that grabs you is the decor. Gothic paintings of overpaid prima donnas adorn the walls, posturing whilst idiots scream behind them. Secondly, one hears a distant cackling coming from a room a few stories up. A piercing, cocky laughter usually reserved for Apprentice contestants serves to suggest that this is the laugh of a business magnate. Your worst suspicions are confirmed as you make your way to the door from which the laughter emanates, the sign on the door reads:

Rupert Murdoch CEO.

Of course Rupert, like the rest of us, has been reading of the sad demise of Setanta Sports over the past few days. Unlike the rest of us, or this lonely scribe at least, Rupert is very happy about it.

I enjoyed Setanta Sports. I liked the down-to-earth Premiership coverage (albeit mostly showing menial games). I liked the German and French football highlights. I passed many hours watching Liverpool or Arsenal TV, and loved the wonderfully in-no-way-biased analysis and matches to be found there. I liked Chris Waddle and Craig Burley's co-commentary, even if you couldn't understand them half the time. I'm well known to have a medium-sized crush on Rebecca Lowe and a massive man-crush on James Richardson, so their Football Matters summary show was, like Richardson's Guardian Football Weekly, a pun-derful delight. My brusque Welsh housemate also tells me Setanta's great for Boxing too, so I'm gonna take his word for it.

But what I probably liked the most was the fact that, here I was, watching good football on the telly (and Liverpool TV. HONK!), safe in the knowledge that my subscription had not lined Rupert's pocket, and had financed a competitor to Sky Sports, a station so smug and self-important Simon Cowell would find it overbearing.

But, therein lied the problem. A competitor to Sky Sports was never going to have an easy ride, even with the minimum 23 Premiership matches guaranteed by the European commission.

In this country, Sky have benefitted enormously from the Premier League and the monopoly they hold with it, able to charge a massive amount for their product. When Setanta joined the competition, Sky were not prepared to give up their powerful position. If anything, their position strengthened: rescheduling dictated that despite losing 46 games to Setanta, they were able to show 92 games with the new deal, 4 more than they showed the previous season.

These 92 matches - 46 more matches than their rival - included first dibs on games with the lucrative 'A' game package and meant that, along with much brand loyalty, Sky were undoubtedly still wearing the Premier League trousers, and as such were able to price their rival out.

Sky customers had, essentially, the same package as the season before, only this time, consumers had an optional channel to subscribe to: Setanta, offering 46 Premiership games for 12.99 a month. Over £50 pounds a month for football on telly? Unsurprisingly, consumers voted with their feet, and Setanta have been unable to get past 1.1 million subscribers, whilst needing 1.9 to break even.

So Rupert's happy then. And Nick Woolnough, it seems. Sky see off a serious competitor, and re-establish their position as 'the home of football', a common claim made by their shameless marketing department, whilst the consumer continues to pay through the nose for-the-most-exciting-league-in-the-world-with-four-teams.