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Links on Friday – Great sporting songs

sportreview endorses and recommends Subbuteo for making a rainy afternoon fly by (if you can’t be arsed whipping up a chocolate cake). Bonus points for having Half Man Half Biscuits’ All I want for Christmas is a Dukla Prague Away Kit on the stereo

Euro 96 happened about six months before my OE, and Three Lions used to make me so excited I could shit (along with this). Bad move bringing it back for the 1998 World Cup, though

Paul Kelly could sing about putting the bins out and still make you cry – this fan-made clip for Bradman has some sweet archive footage

Italia ’90 was a great World Cup, all bad guy Argentinians, Roger Milla dancing, Toto Schillaci’s bulging eyes and England going out heroically. It also had the best sport song ever, New Order’s World In Motion, your only chance to see Manchester’s best dance / rock band (and there’s a bit of competition there, alright) having a kick about. Features surprisingly competent rap by John Barnes

Next week on Links on Friday – Crap sporting songs

Links on Friday

There’s own goals and there’s the ‘batshit insane-o’ own goals

Everyone’s wanted to tackle a ref – but only this guy has the sack to do it

When a gaggle of scallywags in parkas invades the pitch, sometimes it’s up to the manager to take direct action

I don’t think this keeper will get player of the day, even when getting on the scoresheet

Euro goal of the season

The Guardian has a poll going for European goal of the season. Way out in front is this from Grafite for VfL Wolfsburg, causing the commentator here to go all Brazilian. I can’t argue.

Links on Friday

Get Your Basketball On! Learn the secret to wining basketball from Axel Foley

After the champions’ league win, Messi got messy in every headline writer’s dream scenario. This is what I imagine @Naly_D was like at his 21st

Forget flowers, chocolates or expensive, planet-wrecking SUVs. Get the lady in your life a Shii

Why can’t you be in one of those decent situation comedies that your mother likes?

Football’s seven deadly sins

The Guardian has a mazy dribble through Football’s seven deadly sins. Gluttony, sloth, pride (D. Beckham features) and lust are all covered.

“There was a karaoke competition going on, but John’s a quiet one off the pitch and wasn’t having it at all. It started off as a bit of a lark with some of the other lads having a go but then it got completely out of hand. John went ballistic because Craig wouldn’t take no for an answer. He was screaming at Craig to leave him alone, saying he wouldn’t do it and yelling insults.” The pair squared up to each other, trading expletives, before other players stepped in to intervene, the group subsequently dispersing and heading to their rooms. Yet Bellamy apparently felt he had lost face in front of his team-mates and, having armed himself with a putter, tracked down Riise in his hotel room and swung the club at the full-back’s legs.”

Links on Friday

If you love Chris Waddle, and couldn’t get enough of Diamond Lights, wait until you see him turn into a Pet Shop Boy.

Turns out all you need to impress the ladies is a sweet custom bike.

Star Wars nerds – hands where I can see ’em.

You feed beefburgers to swans.

Championes and loseriones

Despite ten years of trying, 1999 may yet be Fergusson’s greatest moment. John Terry’s Moscow slip meant the old hairdryer has won a Big Cup with two different teams, but Man U looked tired, out of ideas, and not at all like repeating this morning. Fergusson tried his trick of throwing on an ex-spurs striker, but Berbatov headed his only chance miles over the bar, to the exasperated looks of this team mates. It would have helped if he’d opened his eyes.

Well done to Barcelona, who thoroughly deserved the win, despite Tierry Henry repeating his CL Final sitter-miss from his Arsenal appearance. The wonderful Messi showed Maradona-like leaping ability and technique to get to his header. He definitely got the better of Ronaldo.

As an aside, I prefer Beckham’s free kicks, shaping like a gentle draw on a par three to Ronaldo’s thunderbolts, more about leg strength than technique. But that’s just me. As a Tottenham fan, the Champions’ League is more about voyeurism than any legitimate criticism anyway.