When both your rival teams play each other

Who do I hate more……


Ugh But I hate that player


Ugh But I hate that other player too


Seriously why does anyone even like any of these teams?!


Ok wait who is more ahead of us in the log? They must lose this match


Shit they have that many points?!


Ok they must definitely lose


Oh but wait, they’ve already won their difficult matches which means winning this match could give them the title


Crap! Ok then the other team needs to win this


But then we’ll finish below them, Flip it DRAW THE DAMN  GAME


The Boardwalk Empire star remember the teacher who opened his eyes to acting

I wasn’t allowed to do drama at school.

Why? I accidentally set fire to the toilets. When I was 18, I went to the Everyman Youth Theatre in Liverpool every Wednesday, and that’s when I started getting into drama. Our teacher while I was there was Jerry Pantomime – he was also our confidante, our friend. A lovely man.

Jerry gave us a voice.

He was a young, gay man who died of Aids in the end, but he wrote plays and was a big influence on a lot of young people. We were mostly kids from council estates and many of us had never done theatre before. In a similar way to my parents, he made us believe we could do whatever we wanted. We thought we were changing the world, but we weren’t – we were just making pieces about society, the rainforest, that kind of thing.

He really opened my eyes to the possibilities of drama.

I fell in love with acting because I realised you can make people think and feel – it isn’t just a source of entertainment. If you’re lucky, like I’ve been later on in my career to work with the likes of Peter Bowker on Occupation and Jimmy McGovern, you’re able to come into people’s living rooms and make them think: about themselves and society.

The play that really made an impact on me was called Easy.

At the end of the summer holidays before I went to university, we put on our own show. Jerry wrote it and I played Joel, the lead character, a boy that contracted HIV from a one-night stand at a party with a young girl. We were showing that it wasn’t just gay people or drug addicts [who contracted the disease] back in the day, like the fear propaganda said. We made people aware it could happen to anybody.

It had a real impact on my parents, too.

My dad’s always been very complimentary, and he’s very proud – I know he is – and he’s never been one to overly go, “My son’s amazing.” But he came over to me at the end [of Easy] and said, “I’m really proud of you – I’ve just seen my son grow up and become a man on stage.” It was a beautiful moment. I was leaving home, and that gave me the confidence to live my life and be me. My parents used to come and watch everything I did, they were supportive from day one.

Lovely interview, but someone on Twitter said Jerry was still alive and well!

The Day Liverpool Lost Their Identity

As usual, I won’t delve too much into the actual match between West Ham and Liverpool since we all watched it and all experienced the pain of getting beaten by a team with Stewart Downing in it, the kind of pain which lasts forever. It was a woeful game, one that makes you wake up in the middle of the night and cry over a bowl of Fruit Loops as you try to push the image of Big Sam rubbing his nipples out of your head.

Yes, it was that bad.

There was only one Liverpool player on the pitch who actually had a good game and you can probably guess who it is. Raheem Sterling probably felt like the Brain whenever Pinky fucked everything up. His goal was good, but the memes that came out of it because of Mario Balotelli were probably even better.


Everyone else was pretty much shit. Fabio Borini thought he was the jock in a John Hughes film. I admired his desire to stay at the club, but he’s not good enough for Liverpool. Simple as that. Balotelli needed to be paired up with a pacey striker so he wouldn’t roam around without a purpose like a fucking neanderthal and Lucas should’ve been sold ages ago.


An actual photo of Liverpool during the match.

Above all, Liverpool’s biggest issues were in goal, defense, and Steven Gerrard. In our recent games, Simon Mignolet has decided to play without a brain or maybe he’s just acting like a kid thinking he’s Manuel Neuer. Mignolet can turn the simplest of crosses into a goal scoring chance by coming off his line like the sweeper keeper he will never be. I hope that Liverpool are working to sign Victor Valdes on a free, because Mignolet does shit that not even a goalkeeper in a youth league would do. He makes me shit myself every time he looks at the ball, because some way, somehow, he’s gonna fuck it up. It’s too early for me to say for sure, but maybe telling Mignolet to fuck off next summer would be a smart choice. Asmir Begović would be pretty awesome.

We have good players in our defense, but they just can’t communicate. It’s like they’re all speaking different languages…languages that actually don’t even exist. I mean, one of our center backs almost gave the other a fucking concussion. It would actually be really awesome if Brendan Rodgers called up Jose Mourinho for some defense tips, because he doesn’t have a fucking clue. Setting up to play defensively isn’t as easy as he thinks it is.

And Steven Gerrard was as far away from Steven Gerrard as Steven Gerrard could possibly get. There are two reasons for this: his limits and his mentality. At 34 years old, Gerrard shouldn’t be playing the full 90 minutes of three games in one week. That’s like trying to study for all of your final exams the day before you take them. His head also hasn’t been in the right place ever since The Slip. I’m actually beginning to wonder if he can ever put it behind him and, to be honest, I can’t blame him if he can’t. However, I’m not going to blame Gerrard or Mignolet or even our defense for today’s loss.

I am going to blame Brendan Rodgers. Well, let’s use criticize because it sounds a bit nicer and I don’t want people to be throwing the “#RODGERSOUT!” hashtag at me. Today, Liverpool had lost their identity. It was like watching that episode of SpongeBob where he loses his identity, but just with a lot more Stewart Downing. Last season, you knew how we would line up, what formation we would use, and how we would play.

This season, all of this is a mystery. Since the start of the season, we must have played at least 8,000 different fucking formations, with all kinds of shapes and numbers when it’s clear that the diamond formation is the one that suits us best. When we do go back to the diamond, we end up playing exceptionally better. OMG IS DAT A COINCIDENCE!?!?!? No, it fucking isn’t.


Rodgers’ biggest flaw is his pride. He wants to take this club to the top all by himself. He fucking shouldn’t. Rodgers needs coaches to help build this team, because he can’t do it all on his own. I’m talking about coaches who actually know how to do their fucking jobs. Rodgers himself needs to decide on a final formation (which is obvious), his best starting XI (which is also pretty obvious), and the tactics to use during a match. Today, Rodgers made some of his worst decisions. The formation, Borini starting over Markovic/Lambert, Lambert coming on when Markovic would have been much better, etc. It was a game of Battleship in which every hopeful hit became a miss.

We have failed to rectify any of our problems last season and now, with Suarez gone, we ultimately have no chance of winning this league as we can’t score a bazillion goals to make amends for our defensive fuck-ups. 

Changes must be made as we prepare for Middlesbrough and Everton next week. Rest Gerrard, sort out that fucking defense in training, and try and get Daniel Sturridge back to 100% fitness. Set our sights on fourth and not first because there’s no way we’ll beat Chelsea or City if we keep being this shit. The only person who can fix this club is Rodgers, so let’s wait and see what he does.