The truth about England? They cared too much
It was all anyone – fans, other players, even the media and that – wanted to know: is it true Dazz? And I’m not talking the story about Uruguay’s Luis Suarez discovering that he has English heritage and being pursued by the blind Italian to play in goal on the basis that unlike Robert Green, he can get his hands round an inbound shot. I’m not talking, either, about Argentina’s players deliberately losing to the Krauts in the quarter-final because old Hand of God’s breath had got so bad what with a fortnight’s garlic and cigar chewing they couldn’t stand another bout of tongue sarnies if they’d won. No, I’m talking the big one. The one what everyone says is absolute truth. The one about the England team and the real reason why they was so bad. Everyone seemed to think it was true, seemed to think it explained everything. So let yours truly have his two-pennies worth if you don’t mind.
First up, DT did not get his middle name of Mr Discretion for nowt. Well, yeah, the record might show that his middle name is in fact Kyle, after that bloke off of that Twin Peaks what mam had a crush on at the time. And yeah, I admit I was 13 when the programme was actually on, but mam was always a little slow in getting things organised. And again, I accept, I never got it officially put on me birth certificate after the priest halted the christening service when I nutted him for ducking us under the bleedin water. So yeah, in a way, Darren Kyle Tackle isn’t really my name. But Mr Discretion that’s another thing. I’ve been called that as long as I can remember being around football (though admittedly my coach at the Heston Wanderers U13s used to call me Dizzy Dazza the Knock-kneed Show Pony but that was only when he was being nice about me). See, folk within the game know that the keys of the dressing room door are secure in yours truly’s hands. Yeah, obviously there was the time when the story about the chairman, his Filipino secretary and the catering tin of olive oil ended up in the News of the World and the DT bank account rang hot as a result. But that was always going to get out so there was no point in me keeping the lid on it. After all the chairman couldn’t keep the lid on the catering tin of olive oil. Or keep inside his trousers around the hired help. But basically, if you is looking for someone to confirm who is shagging whose missus and who got whose teenaged sister in law up the duff and why so-and-so has got the hump as a result, you is barking up the wrong tree.
