by Chris Tobin

Last weekend once again thrust Luis Suarez to the forefront of footballing outrage, it must be said by those mainly opposed to Liverpool and the player himself and of course the legend that is Jon Champion. Such is the nature of footballing rivalry that incidents of this type create such faux outrage from those supporters who moments earlier are quite happy to accept similar decisions in their teams favour without the blink of a blinkered eye.

Suarez however is what my mother would have referred to as “a different kettle of fish” such is the demonic nature of the coverage that Suarez receives both from a media intent on the portrait of him as Johnny foreigner, put this alongside the pure hatred he is targeted with by opposing fans and we can quickly see why such incidents take up huge print and are regurgitated on the hour, every hour by Sky.

The actual argument as to whether Suarez cheated is now lost, whilst instead it has turned itself into some sort of witch-hunt. Luis Suarez is not the first nor can we assume will he be the last footballer to handle a football, whether intentionally or not, a point which for now has become irrelevant.

Cheating – if that is what we are going to label it as – is happening at every single game that is played across the country, on every given Saturday afternoon, and there is a good reason for this – rules. Wherever you have a game that is controlled by rules invariably you will have rule breakers. But are they cheats? The problem with the Suarez incident is that the referee saw the ball hit his hand and decided it was not intentional, not Suarez, the official who is there to enforce the rules of the game.

Many supporters have suggested that Suarez should have admitted the ball had hit his hand to the officials. What a moronic suggestion. So where does that stop then, players telling the linesman when they are offside, defenders telling the referee they have just pulled a strikers shirt – It would not be long before Stoke City found themselves bottom of the Conference.

Could we have players telling referees when they deserve to be yellow carded, or sent off? It is quite ridiculous that football supporters suggest such rubbish as players being honest. If these poor disillusioned folk want a true sport of honest endeavour coupled with no rule breaking then I suggest they start watching synchronised swimming or perhaps dressage. Footballers are always pushing the rules not only to the precipice but over and beyond without a hint of guilt. Whilst supporters of the alleged perpetrators applaud such rule breaking their fellow protagonists from opposing teams point fingers of indignation and horror whilst attempting to see the forest through the trees with rose-tinted glasses.

“You didn’t ask me to say cheese. You sir are a nefarious cheat”

If we have gauged anything from this weekend and the Suarez handball, it is this; the standard of football commentary and game coverage in this country is at an all-time low. There was a time we could tune in to a game with the surety of knowledge that an overdose of dopamine was on the horizon, now unfortunately the only sure-thing is banal uninteresting and generally uninterested pundits and commentators shall entertain with preposterous presentation, where once we would be informed of issues within the game that perhaps had gone un-noticed, we are now force fed opinion when clear evidence is there for our eyes and brains to absorb for ourselves.

Work as a pundit or as I like to call it “stealing a living” seems to be reserved for the intellectually challenged former footballers, those able to, with repetitive regularity talk rubbish, whilst possibly inventing a catchphrase for which they will be indelibly linked for the life of said punditry. At no time will the public have an input regarding these people, and more than likely the more despised or truly hated the pundit, the more stealing they are able to commit in pursuit of their living.

The public are led sheep like toward an abyss as commentary pied piping decides truth, even when your eyes can quite clearly see for themselves, fooled with your senses hijacked, caught in the web of lies, you stupidly are taken in by these regulators of right and wrong, preceptors of propaganda. Oh what lies they tell, the cheating bastards.

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