On My Way Out

I'd intended on writing a blog post today about something. I had observations to make and I thought I perform a kind of free-form grouch but I find myself rushing for the train. I'm going into Liverpool to buy a connecting link for my bike chain. I was miles from home yesterday when the chain broke. It's the latest in a series of ongoing disasters with my bike and indicative that it either needs a serious service (I checked online and I'm talking £100+ of things wrong with it) or I need a new bike. It means I'm trying to fix things myself, which I know I can do with a certain reluctance, even if it means not doing them particularly well. Perhaps I'll take photos of my day out. No doubt Liverpool city centre is dominated by a bonfire where fools are burning likenesses of Mario Balotelli. I like Mario and I think he could be a success at Liverpool if only the manager played him in the correct role and stopped ignoring the fact that our defence is hopeless. But that would lead me into one of those free-form grouches about Brendan Rodgers and his teeth. Teeth, I think, say a lot about a person and Brendan Rodger's teeth suggest to me that he's a bit of flash harry, who loves the glamour of fluid football but doesn't like the humble job of coaching defenders...