If: Part 1

Cellmate smelled like Old Spice and dirty sweat. The walls, disinfectant and mentholated spirits. The cement was swabbed and dragged on the walls forming rough notches when you ran your hand over the surface. Tipex markings showing dates I did not understand. Crosses in coal, sayings in Xhosa. I could not translate. At the bottom of the markings, it read Psalms. Men of God behind bars, finding religion when their lives seem pointless. A last resort.
A blotch of dried blood. An angry fist to the wall. The miraculous burst of pain. The urinal, yellowing, dripped, dripped again, its puddle deep. The room was full of silence, the kind that made your ears ring, suspended in a paused age where everything was more pronounced. The world took a breath, steady, defeated of meaning. There is none. Not now.
Cellmate stirred in his perturbed sleep. The steel bed creaked. He turned over to look at me. I did not know what he sounded like. I look away. Anywhere else would be the best. A man outside reads something on his shiny phone. It’s his wife, I think. He’d go home to her. He will put on slippers, record that show he likes. Chicken for dinner. Ten hits and he is asleep next to the love of his life. Before, they talk about holidays overseas. Barcelona. The Maldives. Somewhere hot will be nice. The officer looks my way. Bastard. I don’t have that anymore.
Cellmate turns around. I dig into my pocket and forget that they took my smokes away. And The Parker. She gave me that. I ask the guard for a smoke and he says I can’t. He is going now anyway. His shift ends. He walks away, pocketing his phone and lighting a smoke. His is walking home to loosen his fabric noose, his tie, his belt and put on a flabby T-shirt. And slippers – don’t forget about them.

She did not care. Her arms were spread across, stretching, her hands falling over my mouth and chin. It was like she forgot she shared the bed. Her lips parted, kissing something invisible in her subconscious. I hope it was me. I put my forefinger there as if to silence her. She drew a breath in and looked at me. She folds into me, withdraws. Her hair falls onto my shoulder. She begins to smile.
‘You hit my chin’ I say

She puts her thumb on my chin, right in the groove. Her eyes are glazed in exhaustion.
‘I move around when I sleep. You know that’

She rests on my chest now and it contracts uncomfortably. I call it stress. Others, love.
Unlikely. I don’t do that. I am not John Smith. I don’t live those type of Disney fairytales that spoon-feed destiny. Destiny is just a name for a wanna-be adult film star.
I notice her birthmark on her left earlobe; a perfect circle that seemed like someone had punctured it there on purpose.  She wanted breakfast. She had asked so nicely.

Can Mourinho conquer La Liga?





Plan B: Mourinho needs to find another way to wrestle the title away from Barcelona



Messi, Iniesta, Xavi, Pique, Puyol and David Villa were part of the 2010 Fifa XI. Lionel Messi won the 2010 Ballon D’or for the second consecutive year followed by Barcelona teammates Iniesta and Xavi as runner-ups. The Barcelona men are in a class of their own. In the current La Liga season, they dominate and score goals as easily as closing a lid. Real Madrid is now 4 points behind the champions and cannot keep up. Real Madrid’s 1-1 draw to Almeria did not help either. Mourinho laughed off his team’s performance and Almeria’s players who took to diving to slow the clock down. Even La Liga top scorer, Cristiano Ronaldo, couldn’t force the winner – his last gasp free kick hitting the post. Barcelona followed their rivals with a 4-1 drubbing of Malaga. Easy enough. They win by many and outclass always. With a midfield that is far beyond any team’s in any league, Barcelona dominate possession and play together like a squad who have grown up together. They know where each player is, what leading runs are present and how to play against any defense. Imagine how frustrating it is to be a Real Madrid player at the moment? You’re second best. You can’t seem to grapple the champions and you never top the league despite handy wins. Mourinho won manager of the year in the FIFA awards with his stint with Inter Milan. There is no doubt that he holds the knowledge of something miraculous. But can he really overcome Guardiola’s experience in the league? Should he buy a star striker to cement a title shot? Benzema is inconsistent and without Ronaldo, Madrid’s attack seems flimsy at times. The Portuguese winger is in the form of his life but no winning team can rely on a single player. Barcelona have the goods – Messi, as scorer and playmaker; Xavi, holding on to the ball and finding the hardest pass. Iniesta, alongside Xavi, passing until the stats soar. Villa is on form and is always a threat to defenses. Pique is strong in the air and can keep any attack out.  Puyol is brawly and ever present in the box. I wonder if any team in Europe can stop the Spanish giants? I’ll have to say Manchester United hold the only chance but I’m biased. Let’s see if Mourinho can smile for the right reasons this season. There are rumours that Van Nistelrooy is set for a return and Adebayor is also in the running.