The Tale That Dogs The WAG
Glancing through the red-tops on sure days over the past few weeks, one might be forgiven for thinking that England’s World Cup bid revolved not around 11 strapping male athletes on the pitch in Gelsenkirchen, however rather the often dubious antics of a cluster of Cristal fuelled, bejewelled glamour queens in Manolo Blahniks and oversized sunglasses.
Actually this doesn’t represent any great departure from kind on the part of either the tabloid reporters or the WAGs themselves. The likes of Victoria Beckham (neé Posh Spice), Coleen Mcloughlin et al relish a tumultuous however mutually helpful relationship with the tabloid press the year round; the designer label and conspicuous consumption led lifestyle financed by their HABs’ (Husbands and Boyfriends’) nosebleed-inducing salaries providing the right fodder for the sort of journalist that eschews ‘real’ news and also the tabloids in turn providing that all
necessary limelight presence that’s the lifeblood of glamour models and dried up pop has-beens. Few can are typically shocked at the ‘mistake’ that saw the WAGs and alternative members of the family of the England team booked into the same hotel as the bulk of the British press deployed to hide the World Cup. For some short weeks the Brenner’s Park Hotel played host to a bona fide match created in Heaven because the WAGs trailed journalists pied-piper-like around Baden Baden’s hot spots, handing out tabloid-friendly photo opportunities and pretend-shocking examples of ‘scandalous’ behaviour with the generosity of spirit of an anorexic at a soup kitchen. This was truly the blonde leading the bland.
Tabloid journalists, by their very nature, are risky bedfellows who concentrate on biting the hand that feeds. That docile, friendly poodle within the lap of the IT lady will turn to a ravening, bloodthirsty pack animal quicker than you’ll be able to say ‘deviated septum’, and this summer’s WAG-watching exercise saw its honest share of savagery. Like wolves or hyenas, when packs of tabloid journalists choose their prey they single out the weakest individuals on the outside of the herd.
High spot on the tabloid maul-o-meter during this case should go to Abigail Clancy, (erstwhile?) girlfriend of Peter Crouch, lambasted not only for having done the dirty on England’s Unlikeliest Athlete but for having come back clean to him regarding it mere hours before England’s game against Trinidad and Tobago in that Crouch scored the gap goal. While we tend to will all appreciate that such news is rarely good, and few would deny that its delivery may have been better timed, the bulk of tabloid umbrage at this fact seems to be drawn from the assumption {that the} pain of receiving such news would possibly have stymied Crouch’s game. This, in fact, quite ignores the actual fact that until Crouch’s golden moment in the 83rd minute and his subsequent lamentable dance show he was one in all the lesser known stars of English soccer whose very inclusion in the squad was the subject of dark and uncertain mutterings in some quarters. Had Abi Clancy’s relationship misdemeanours indeed put the kybosh on Crouch’s ability to play at high level, the goal would never have gone in and the whole sorry episode would barely are newsworthy to begin with. There again, when did we have a tendency to ever look to the tabloids for logic?
In fact, currently that England have returned in ignominious circumstances it’s not simply Abi Clancy who has strayed
inside the tabloid zone of terror. Having created such a towering media edifice of the England team in recent weeks, the hacks of Middle England now balk at the prospect of knocking it down, therefore instead they cast around for a scapegoat. All accusations appear to slide from erstwhile manager Sven-Goran Eriksson like droplets from a well-oiled silver duck, and after all what does Sven care? He’s already packed his bags for Sweden and kissed his love affair with English soccer a fond goodbye. All in all, it looks just like the blame for England’s poor performance (it simply wouldn’t do to recycle an excuse from the past 40 years) could somewhat be laid at many pairs of immaculately manicured feet in terribly expensive heels! Come back to that, thus what? In come back for such a lavish existence and a media presence second to none (actually to none who do so very little to warrant it) couldn’t they at least shoulder a little blame currently and once more? Is that too much to raise?
white dog collar, sportdog training collars& innotek bark collar