There have been many benefits from the influx of top class foreign footballers to this country but many of them have had to pay a high price. Hard to believe given their salaries which rival the GDP of medium sized nation states but nevertheless true. These great artists of the beautiful game have been infected with a terrible disease known as Translationitis. The disease strikes while the player is experiencing a loss in form or the onset of restless feet (a desire for a transfer).
The illness presents by way of an interview given by the player in their first language to the media from their mother country. Mysteriously when the interview is republished in English it turns out they have said something disparaging about their club's owners, or manager, or fellow players and occasionally the fans. When their club pick up on the interview and what has been reported the player is hauled in to explain their comments. It is at this point they reveal the malady as they explain that somehow their words have been changed in translation and do not accurately reflect what they said.
The latest victim of Translationitis is Chelski forward Fernando Torres who is suffering an extended loss of form. The £50million Spanish striker has given an interview in which he criticises his team mates for being 'old' and 'slow' thus explaining his inability to hit the target. Torres has claimed that his words have been mistranslated and he didn't mean what is reported. The only problem is that the interview is translated with these words on Torres' own website. It gets worse because his manager at Chelski is fluent in Spanish and has demanded to see the original transcript.
I don't know why Torres has risked incurring the wrath of colleagues and employers. It is perfectly clear that Torres' loss in form has coincided with his decision to cut his hair and stop colouring it yellow. This is a high price to pay to avoid being mistaken for the ubiquitous football pundit and Strictly Come Dancing stooge Robbie Savage.
Living in Essex with a very understanding family (understanding of my mood swings relative to Man Utd's fortunes), a dog named Branoc, rabbits and chickens (when the fox doesn't eat them). Team Rector of the Great Baddow Team Ministry in the Diocese of Chelmsford. I'm also a non-residentiary Canon of Chelmsford Cathedral and I enjoy hitting and kicking things, which I call drumming. The picture in the header is by Nathan Brisk.