Aww. Diddums.

As Sheffield United crashed unapologetically into the League Cup semi final yesterday evening, Southampton manager and mardy Dutch bastard Ronald Koeman refused to shake hands with the Blades’ bench after the match:

In response to what Koeman felt was an absence of reverence, the former Barcelona defender refused to shake the hand of opposing manager Nigel Clough at full-time.

He explained: “I shake hands with people who have respect for me as a coach, who have respect for the fourth referee. I think the behaviour of the bench of Sheffield United, I never saw that. That was the reason why I didn’t shake hands.”

Aww. Thanks for that, Officer Tosspot of the Respect Police. Nothing like a lack of respect to protest a lack of respect. Because it’s all about that lack of respect, isn’t it? Nothing to do with your side being comprehensively outplayed and dumped out of the competition. Nothing to do with a fifth straight defeat. Nothing to do with the fact that you might not have a job next Monday.

Compare and contrast classless Koeman with sporting Sammy Lee.

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I’ll just leave this highlights package here for you, Ron:

Blades 1-0 Southampton

A brilliant and disastrous day

We had a superb day in London. We spent plenty of Rands, yes, but we’re on holiday and so we’re allowed to do that, apparently. And that’s good, because nothing is cheap here.
London Eye, ice skating outside in the sunshine under the wheel, and then on to the (rather divisive among Trip Advisor users) Winter Wonderland in Hyde Park. Expensive, but absolutely amazing.

The disaster occurred on the train on the way in to do all this. A dropped phone, a smashed screen, some internal tears. I’m going to see if I can get it fixed tomorrow, or I might cry some more.

Photos (and there are plenty) are on the camera and will be uploaded from Sheffield upon our return.

Train thoughts

Three hours (and four minutes) from Sheffield to London on board an East Midlands train would maim anyone through boredom. But with two kids in tow, it’s a killer. And the scenery isn’t exactly riveting through Leicestershire: power stations, wet fields and dirty horses. Then, to add insult to injury, you end up in Bedfordshire, which seems like some sort of post apocalyptic wasteland.
Suddenly, Leicestershire seems picturesque.
There’s a tip for the Leicestershire Tourist Board, right there. Compare yourself with Luton.

Still, as with many places in the UK, there’s free, fast wifi on  board, so the kids are kept amused watching NatGeo videos. Although, there are only so many NatGeo videos you can watch before you get tired of watching NatGeo videos.

There’s a French Bulldog just across the aisle from us. It’s off to a French Bulldog meet in London. It has its own Instagram account. It’s standing on the table that people need to eat their food off. Ugh.

Nearly there now. Just passing through St Albans. Also nicer than Luton. I’m going to go and help my daughter colour in Spiderman now, so I’ll be back later. Sorry for the rambling, but it was surely worth it for that Leicestershire tourism tip. Right?

Icy

It’s been a cold few days here, but we didn’t realise quite how icy some of the roads are until I read this article in the local paper.

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That’s a gritting lorry, full (previously, anyway) of salt to put on the road to prevent the ice from making the road slippery.
It doesn’t always work.

We went for a walk in the frosty valley this morning. I’ll try to get the photos up soon.

Tomorrow: London.