The Meaning of LiFIFA - Creating a New Football Vocabulary

In 1983, the incomparable Douglas Adams (in conjunction with John Lloyd - no, not the tennis player) produced a small book called 'The Meaning of Liff'
The Meaning of Liff on Amazon
As an homage to the great man and his fantastic idea, I have created below a list of new footballing terms that will, I'm sure, soon come into standard usage to describe all those things within The Beautiful Game that currently do not have a noun or verb specifically assigned to them.

Warning - contains strong language and images that are liable to offend (or at least bring back painful memories!)

RIJKARRD (vb.)
To spit at your opponent.

Example of usage - 'Ooh, look at that, he's done a Rijkaard right on the back of his head!'


KEANE (vb.)
To shout in the face of the referee when you disagree with his decision. Most effective when performed about four inches from the referee's face.

Example of usage - 'The full back is really Keaning the ref over his decision to award that free kick.'


KLINSMANN (n.)
A spectacular and unnecessary series of spins, flips and cartwheels, usually performed in the opponent's penalty area following contact equivalent to being side-swiped by a fly. Can be accompanied by a cry of agony that suggests a duodenal ulcer has just ruptured.

Example of usage - 'The centre-forward's done a Klinsmann in an attempt to win a penalty. What a knob!'


RONALDO (n.)
The wink of a smug bastard when you get an opponent sent off.

Example of usage - 'Is that a Ronaldo I see being performed - let's hope someone lamps him later!'


TWAT (n.)
Someone who performs Ronaldo against one of your team's players.


BECKHAM (n.)
A petulant kick aimed at an opponent which gets you sent off. A Beckham is best performed when your team is playing well and looking like being victorious in a World Cup last-16 match. It is most effective when the player receiving the Beckham makes an absolute meal of the slightest of touches and there's a preening, self-important tit of a Danish referee to brandish the red card!

Example of usage - 'Oh no, he's done a Beckham!'


RIVALDO (n.)
A type of pain felt in your face when a football (or anything else for that matter) hits you on a completely unrelated part of the body…like your thigh.

Example of usage - 'Looks like he's suffering from Rivaldo.'


ZIDANE (vb.)
To needlessly headbutt any Italian.

Example of usage - 'Ooh my, the centre-half's just Zidaned the opposition captain - nasty!'


MARADONA (n.)
The basic term for a cheating bastard.

Example of usage - 'He's been a right Maradona today!'


Please feel free to suggest others!

So much rant-fodder to choose from...

Well, I've been absent from the blog-iverse for a few days, partly down to having spent a couple of days in the Lake District, and partly because of technological malfunction...and whilst my absence may have left blog followers fearing the worst (or the best, depending upon your bent), the return to the blog after even just this short period of no-blogginess has highlighted to me what an absolute wealth of riches exist in this wonderfully mad and vibrant world of ours on which to comment, about which to moan, or from which to merciless take the proverbial piss.
For instance, we have:

• the first Ashes test and the fact that, for four days, the Australians somehow managed to smuggle a Marais Erasmus lookalike (allegedly from a small town just north of Wollongong) into the third umpire's seat (whereupon he missed a glaring stumping of the Australian wonder-kid named after a type of laboratory jelly and then gave Trotty out even though he couldn't actually check whether he'd hit the ball or not...which is pretty fundamental, methinks) whilst the real Marais Erasmus (who only returned in time to give the last Australian batsman out) was held hostage in a small bungalow on the outskirts of Nottingham, not far from the M1;
• the news that the BBC have spent my licence-fee money (and that of a shed-load of other people as well) on three investigations into why nobody at the BBC spotted that Jimmy Savile was a paedo;
• and still on the BBC, news on severance packages which make me hope (in vain, I suspect) that my current employers would be as generous as the BBC Board in calculating any payout I will get should my services no longer be required;
• and, of course, there's the ongoing nonsense of the European Convention on Human Rights and the fact that, according to the idiot judges in Brussels, we in Britain are not even now within our rights to tell psychotic murderers that they are going to die in prison, because that is seen as 'inhumane' (though not, I suggest, as inhumane as the way Jeremy Bamber butchered five members of his own family...but, then again, the law doesn't really give a toss about the victims of crime, does it...only the perpetrators).

And that's just a few of the things that I could easily rant on about!

There was, however, one story that I thought worthy of a bit of vitriol today, and that's the fact that the government has (at long, fucking last) put a cap on the amount of benefits that non-working families are entitled to...shame it's still so ridiculously high at £26,000 (and remember, that's £26,000 tax-free).
There is talk of getting it down to £20,000 (only talk, mind you), but I maintain that until it is lower than the minimum amount of money that a working family are able to bring home (after tax), sponging off the State will still be seen as a positive career choice for an awful lot of feckless individuals who bizarrely believe they have some God-given right to sit on their arses watching (and dreaming about appearing on) Jeremy Kyle whilst the rest of us have to get up everyday and go and do an honest day's labour (even though we might prefer to spend that day lounging in the garden!).
Even in the most benevolent of societies, the benefits system should be nothing more than a safety net to ensure that those without work, or those genuinely unable to work, are kept healthy, sheltered and fed...but nothing more. It should not, must not, provide them with holidays or Playstations or 70" plasma TVs...such things should be the material rewards for those with the motivation and determination to get a fucking job!

There, rant over...and, by Jove, it did feel good...