Football astrology part 2

I wrote a piece on Bethea Jenner's football astrology talk a few weeks ago. Yesterday Bethea and I, after a quick lunch gathered from Monday night's leftovers, staggered down to the North London Tavern to watch the game. Bethea was wearing red and was skittishly nervous about the game.
The North London Tavern, surprisingly, was not too crowded and we managed to secure a table right in front of a screen. Last Friday, I watched England play Algeria and was shocked, for I seldom watch football, at the slow and sluggish lack of energy. The England team footballers didn't seem to care and criticisms about 'eleven millionaires on a pitch' not having any motivation rang true. Wayne Rooney was upset that the fans booed them, but it wasn't surprising. Imagine paying out all that money on a flight, hotel, tickets to watch your country play in South Africa and getting that performance.
Even yesterday, we managed a goal, but England weren't exactly playing 'the beautiful game', there was no flow, no grace, no natural talent on display except for a couple of youngsters. England make it look like hard work. As a non-football expert, I struggle to understand how we can have the best league in the world, so many famous footballers and yet be so underwhelming as a side at the World Cup. Is it all about the money?
Bethea explained to me that some footballers retire from playing with England early so that they can concentrate on their last few years with their clubs, earning a few extra bucks. The F.A, whose initial meeting chart forms, she believes, the chart for Football itself, are no help as an organisation, being run by a bunch of stuck in the mud old fogeys who stymie talent and creativity.
We looked at the chart for the match: I can't remember the details due to drinking two pints of lager (I'm a cheap date and I was trying to get into the swing of things) and hopefully Bethea will post more on her blog (Sybil's Boudoir) about it. My first impression of the chart is that England's main opponent was not so much Slovenia, but the expectations and hopes of people back in England.
But expect upsets: Uranus, having spent seven years in Pisces has just moved into Aries. Uranus which equals rebellion, shocks, innovation, the unexpected in the sign of youth, aggression, energy and enthusiasm. England are Aries, and should always play in red, the Arian colour. Capello should pick young players. I remember Michael Owen and Rooney as youngsters in the World Cup, it's shocking that Owen, at 30, is no longer playing for his country, and Rooney, well, if you told me he was 42 rather than 22 I wouldn't be surprised. He looked ancient, bald, puffy, tired. Maybe they are pushed too hard, too young.
Rooney, astrologically, is having a tough time. Saturn, the planet of age, time, depression and wisdom is transiting his natal Mars, aggression, competitiveness, drive, energy; he probably feels as ancient as he looks. Not a good transit for a sportsman. This transit won't last long but it's timing is unfortunate for this World Cup.
The French manager, Domenech, uses astrology to pick his team: he dislikes Scorpios and won't play Leos in defence. As astrology deals with 12 signs and football has a team of 11 men, possibly this could explain why France are out of the World Cup.
You can read more about astrology and football in this book: Football aims for the Stars: How the Constellations Can Affect Planet Football 

Runaway

My teenage years were pretty vile. I was always either running away from home or being chucked out. I was the oldest and therefore my behaviour, no longer a compliant child, was a shock to my parents. By the time it came to my brother and sister, they were worn out and had given up on rules.

I ran away and stayed out all night when I was 14, sheltering in a church from a thunderstorm. Another time, I stayed the night in Muswell Hill ladies loo. One day, after I refused to clean the bath tub while my brother was lounging about: "Sexists!", my parents kicked me out. I moved to a squat in Camden Town, Royal College Street, just up the road from where Rimbaud and Verlaine lived.

Jesse Birdsall the actor shared the place with me, along with the sometime drummer/manager/mate of Madness, John Hasler. The place was very basic and had no heating. I lugged a bag of coal from the corner shop to light a fire in the tiny fireplace and lived off kebabs from the shop opposite. It was winter.

A few days later my parents put all of my belongings into black plastic rubbish bags: "Take these or lose them to the rubbish collectors!". Such fury on their part, they acted like they hated me.

I was at art college, flunking badly. I wanted to be a fashion designer and would make poorly constructed items on my mother's sewing machine such as vertically striped black and white trousers in satin (doh!) which I teamed with a pale pink angora sweater from Sex at World's end. I had a boyfriend who told me, on the first date, that he was going to be famous. And he was.

My parents were so strict, so threatened by my independence. I had to do whatever they told me to do. They constantly emphasised that it was their house, not mine. I felt insecure for years, until I finally bought my own place. I swore that if I ever made proper money that I would help homeless teenagers.

Teenagers get a bad rap in society; all those hormones, all that energy and curiosity. The boys are stabbing each other and the girls are trying to get boys to like them.

Many teenagers are homeless, because they were in care, because they don't get on with their parents, because they were abused, because the parents don't know how to parent. And sometimes the parents and the teens just need a break from each other.

This initiative seeks to help by getting teenagers on the street back into education.

Campaign to get half a million teenagers worldwide off the street and into school:

Tell Us Your Story is giving people the opportunity to recognise and reward others who have made a positive impact on their lives or in their community over the past year. Entries are submitted online at http://www.avivatellusyourstory.co.uk/
Launched by Aviva, for every entry they will donate £1 to the Street to School Programme - a global initiative with the aim of reaching 500,000 children worldwide, helping them get off the streets and back into education.

A weekly prize of £1000 will also be awarded to the local hero that captures the hearts of visitors to the site and receives the most votes.  One overall winner will be chosen by a celebrity judging panel for a prize worth £10,000.

About Street to School:
Railway Children is the UK charity partner for the Street to School programme.
Railway Children is the only charity working across the UK with vulnerable children.
Every year in the UK, 100,000 children run away because they’re unwanted, unloved or abused and many are never reported missing. 

Revision

It's midnight, I go into the teen's bedroom. Her laptop is propped up in front of her. All I can see is the glow of her face in the laptop light. She hasn't left her bedroom all day except to make a bowl of pasta.

"Eventually you are going to lose the use of your legs" I snark.

"You've let a moth in"

I turn the light on, see it land on a poster of Kurt Cobain. Smack! I lift my hand and there is a smear of ex moth on Kurt's jumper.

"How dare you do that to Kurt!" the teen yelps.

"I think Kurt would have appreciated it" I retort

I look on her windowsill, she's growing something in a pot.

"What's that?" I ask

"Not telling you"

"Is it marijuana?"

She rolls her eyes. "No, like I'd do that here"

I wait.

"It's basil"

I see the packet now. How sweet.

You see, when kids aren't at school they do all sorts of creative things they don't normally do. She's also started mowing the lawn on a regular basis.

"Um, have you got any exams coming up?"

"Tomorrow" she says casually, not moving a muscle.

"Tomorrow!!" I exclaim."When's the exam after that?"

"I've got exams all this week, every day" she replies.

"Aren't you supposed to be revising or something?"

She takes a deep philosophical breath..."Well, I feel, at this stage, whatever happens, will happen..."

"Que sera, sera?" I paraphrase, an eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, that sort of thing. By the way, don't wake me up in the morning, it's an afternoon exam"

I close the door. I hope she knows what she's doing. Watching David Mitchell panel show re-runs will not get her into university and watching Black Adder does not count as history revision.