I’ve only looked at the ‘HSPN’ tag in Tumblr twice ever, both times by accident; I guess it’s a combination of only having enough time to post and also it literally never occurring to me that anyone else used the tag. But the last time I glanced at it, I was surprised that not only had other blogs actually used it, but also that it was used exclusively to discuss Steve Holland. If the thing we’re best known for is our love of Steve Holland, that’s not bad.
The irony of this is, of course, that Steve himself would probably be mortified that anyone was paying attention to him, let alone documenting his every move and giving him a pictorial farewell tour. (To quote one of our best posts about him, ‘Even I don’t get this one, and I’m Steve Holland.’) At the recent trophy celebration, he seemed baffled that anyone would want him to make a speech. But he was–and is–just as much a part of our narrative as anyone there, perhaps even more so, given his longevity as a member of the backroom staff and across the club. His service deserves to be recognized and celebrated, even if it’s only by a blog about hair jokes.
So thanks for everything you did for Chelsea, Steve, the greatest man in recorded and unrecorded history.
Brother: I bet Kanté and Costa just walk around doing impressions of Cahill all day. I could 100% see him doing that exact impression.
Me: Ha ha, I could see that. If I was Kanté, I would insist on always walking out of the tunnel after Cahill so I could do that impression constantly behind him. Cahill’s lucky Kanté plays in front of him, because otherwise he could do it during matches, too.
Brother: Apparently, this is a receipt from a dinner with Messi, Suárez, and Cesc. I hope Cesc said, I’ll take eight of the €87 quesadillas.
Me: The 27 pizzas crack me up. Also, why would anyone order a whiskey sour when there are like five bottles of Macallan and a billion Jeroboams of Dom?
Brother: It’s a great set of completely random orders. I hope the person who got the whiskey sour ate all 27 pizzas and is vomiting a lot right now.
Me: I assume a lot of that order is for children, because Cesc has like a billion kids (albeit one is a newborn) and I know Messi and Fang have a few. I feel like the person who got the whiskey sour was probably the same person who ordered the side of french fries and then extra bread when there was Wagyu beef and caviar [with tartare] on the table. Or Cesc, Messi, and Cannibal were like, Fuck it, we’re on vacation, all of this is for us. Conte text: Hi Cesc, I just saw your bill; you are not on the team anymore, xo, Conte.
Brother: I got to the part where you said Fang, started cracking up, and didn’t read the rest. I thought that Messi’s wife is named Fang, and then realized that you meant the cannibal.