I drive an hour to the station to get the train into work, do a full days work and do the same commute home. How is it the Train journey is the most stressful, uncomfortable and yet expensive part of my day. @Se_Railway you're an absolute joke of an organisation
Something I’ve noticed about myself this season: I’m constantly on my phone while Liverpool are playing. Not the occasional glance either, proper second screen behaviour. Match on the tv, phone in hand, scrolling while the game carries on in the background. And every week I end up asking myself the same question: what’s going on here?
Have I suddenly developed ADHD? Has years of short form content and endless scrolling completely destroyed my attention span, or more worryingly, am I starting to fall out of love with football?
Because it definitely didn’t used to be like this. I could sit through a dull 0–0 years ago and still be completely locked in. Every phase of play felt like it mattered, every attack carried a bit of tension, and even when nothing was happening it still felt like something might happen.
Now I sit down with every intention of properly watching the match. Phone down next to me. Five minutes later I’m somehow halfway through a video about someone restoring a lawnmower from the 1980s. I look back up and realise I’ve missed several minutes of football, yet the game seems to be exactly where it was before.
Centre back to full back. Back inside. Across the back line. Back to the goalkeeper. Switch sides. Reset. By the time we finally reach the edge of the box my attention has already drifted somewhere else.
And that’s when the other thought creeps in. Maybe it’s not my brain. Maybe it’s not TikTok or shrinking attention spans. Maybe I still love football exactly the same as I always have.
Maybe Liverpool are just a bit boring to watch this season.
Everything feels very controlled, very safe, very calculated. Lots of possession, lots of recycling the ball, lots of patient build up but not always much urgency or unpredictability. It can feel like we’re carefully managing a game rather than actually grabbing hold of it.
What happened to the Arne Slot who hooked Quansah after 45 minutes against Ipswich? The ruthless, tactically flexible manager who had us as the best side in Europe this time last year?
He's now backing the same stale players and has us completely lost. It's so, so bad.
Suicide.
I'm choosing to be deliberately blunt and provocative in this post because it's necessary. Government, charities, football clubs are all pushing water up a hill in highlighting what is undoubtedly a major health crisis.
You take a rope.
You put it up in a garage or a tree nearby or far away.
You're thinking about every loved one you'll leave behind as you put that rope around your neck.
Then you drop.
Some are decapitated.
Some aren't.
All are found by someone who has a lifetime of trauma that will never leave them.
A son.
A daughter.
A brother.
A sister.
A mother.
A father.
I know 2 men who hung themselves.
One was found by his Mom.
One was found by his brother.
Neither have recovered fully. 20 and 30 years on.
A life sentence for people who were already worrying, terrified their loved one may do something.
So just visualise the above and ask, "is there another way"?
A segway for a moment.
I do a few Q&A's every year. Tales of yesterday with a 99% male audience of my age group.
After the stories and fun, my last question back to the audience is..
"Hands up if you struggle with a mental health issue".
Nobody ever puts a hand up. Despite 1 in every 3 of 500 attendees statistically struggling.
"Ah, nobody, that's fucking brilliant! Well I do! ". I then graphically tell people, stunned into silence about how a rope around my neck in the middle of nowhere jolted me to go home and cry like a baby to my Mom.
After the Q&A has finished, something always happens. I'll be chatting to a few guys, saying bye and one by one, men will come over and whisper " I struggle".
Or my mailbox the next day will have 30 emails from guys, their partners or kids saying " Dad/Uncle /Brother was there last night and what you said hit them hard".
And that's how some people realise that it's time to speak to a pal or family member or even rant to me in an email. It works, I often get a follow up email a year or 6 later saying that they took responsibility for their suicidal feelings and are now flying.
Humans are programmed to want to live, to have families and to keep the species growing and thriving. So for a human to want to short circuit that desire isn't normal, and it should never be spoken of as normal. It's the ultimate red flag.
If you suspect your mate, Dad, Brother, Uncle is struggling mentally, they deserve your intervention.
They deserve a " are you OK, please tell me what's up".
They deserve an opportunity to get past wanting to hang a rope over a tree or in a garage and slowly struggle until they die and you find them.
If you've been there and trust me I have plenty, then you'll know that text out of the blue, or a footie mate or one of your kids asking jow you are can open the curtains to some sunshine.
Because when suicide is your only answer, the room is already dark, and you can't see a way out.
So please, fucking pretty please, ask that husband, Dad, Uncle, Cousin, footie pal TODAY how they are.
You may be shocked what comes back but extremely glad that you asked.
For those who struggle, you're not alone.
@GVNWD_@anon_opin Correction. I can't speak for the other one but I didn't do it because you "told us" I did it because I realised the style was dated and wanted to change. Stop trying to look like a big man in front of your social media pals