I am Sigmund Freud. Human beings of the male gender have a fascination with balls, both their own and round objects from the very small to the fairly large. Their sexual aggression is suppressed by sport, which is a safety valve to allow aggression to be tamed by the capitalist and political system, which otherwise could result in unrest. Marx said religion is the opium of the people, but religion has been usurped by football.
They can throw, kick and hit balls under limitations called rules, or can watch others perform these feats , even on a small box, called a television and spend hours venting their sexual aggression by shouting and gesticulating at this inanimate object, . They have no idea that this is society’s way of repressing taboo instincts.
I have been interested in West Ham ever since they signed Marco Arnautovic, a fellow Viennese. I realised that the owners of the club were experts in the distribution of images to replace experience and had made a natural progression from pornography to football.
I was invited to watched the game between Southampton and West Ham on television by a West Ham fan who I had diagnosed as being anal retentive. He sat in front of the television wearing a West Ham shirt and with a handheld rattle, which obviously demonstrated a little too much attention to detail.
Southampton have a new manager, Ralph Hassenhuttl, also an Austrian, who has invigorated his side by the alleged use of hypnosis. Apparently, if he mentions the word ‘schweinhund’, they all start to bark.
West Ham had ten players unavailable. Antonio was playing right wing back. He made three mistakes within three minutes. I was told he didn’t normally play as a wing back, but nobody could tell me what his normal position was. To be fair, once he warmed up, he was strong as a bull and was often seen charging up the right wing. His defence, however, seemed to consist at waving his hand at the referee to indicate there had been a foul.
Everything was going through the right wing, even though the most creative player, Anderson, was on the left wing. However, once he got sight of the ball, he couldn’t do anything right and must have been suffering from castration anxiety.
West Ham’s best move came from a brilliant pass from Antonio out of defence followed by a great cut back from Cresswell. Perez, however, scuffed the ball right in front of goal. But, that’s alright. West Ham only paid £4 million for him and that’s a bargain.
Gradually, West Ham did get on top. They have a player called Rice, who seems to have been correctly potty trained, as he is able to defend and distribute the ball with flair.
However, by half time, it appeared West Ham didn’t have a player who could score.
This was completely disproved in the second half. But first of all, there was a complete mess of a goal with Diangana, who is not even a defender and was not involved in what was happening, played Southampton onside. Fabianski made a brave attempt but the ball was bundled in. I felt frustrated and, contrary to my theories, it was not sexual.
But then, joy upon joy, Anderson burst into life with a wonderful strike and West Ham are level.
Now, Carroll is on. He immediately makes an impact and I hope Southampton have an ambulance at the ready.
Then, what a goal! What a comeback! Antonio breaks from defence, then a beauty of a pass to Anderson to absolutely bury it. Wunderbar! His superego is back. What did Pellegrini do to him at half time – give him psychoanalysis or perhaps a piece of apple strudel. And then another brilliant play by Anderson with a cutback to Perez, whose shot was blocked.
Then, we seemed to be playing a new game of ‘who can give the ball away the most?’. Antonio breaks powerfully from the defence and his shot…..almost hits the corner post. Perhaps he should have gone to Specsavers.
The final whistle – the ultimate phallic symbol. There seems to be a lot of hugging between the players – the less said about that, the better.