So on the 332nd last day of my 20s, nothing went right at work. The last couple of days have been a struggle. I'm tired and distracted, and things keep happening to try my patience. I keep thinking about her, wondering what the hell I'm supposed to do now. I've had these feelings for months, and now, it's pretty difficult to work out what I should do with them.
"Gary could play for any Premier League club. If someone offers £30m, you'd probably say that is fair. He is at the top level and that is why it would have to be something like that. It would be wrong if we stood in his way."
- Owen Coyle, with a strange idea of a "fair" price for Gary Cahill
Gary Cahill is an uncapped 24 year old English defender. He plays for Bolton Wanderers and is untried in European competition. However, he's had a couple of good seasons in the Premier League, and he hasn't broken anyone's legs yet. So compared to Martin Taylor and Ryan Shawcross, he probably looks like fucking Maradona. Bolton manager Owen Coyle rates him highly, but would reluctantly let him go for a transfer fee in the vicinity of £30m.
My only questions is, if Gary Cahill is worth £30m, how much is Cesc Fabregas worth?
Barcelona are still trying to drive down Cesc's transfer price. Their latest ploy is to use Cesc's father to tap up his son. Speaking on Spanish radio, he said:
"He (Cesc) is focused now on the Spanish national team but what he wants is for the transfer to be concluded as soon as possible. The negotiations between Arsenal and Barcelona will be very long and both parties are going to have to sit down together a few times because the issue is a complicated one."
It's pretty low of Barcelona to involve Cesc' father. What's next, a tearful plea by Cesc's grandma to come home to try so he can try her homemade paella? If they had any guts, they'd just stump up £50m for Cesc. They'll make a serious bid for Cesc this summer, but this approach is craven. They should realise that they should just throw money at Wenger - you know he's going to cave him eventually. We don't need Cesc Fabregas to win another 3rd place trophy next year.
So what's going to happen if we lose Cesc this year? I'm not sure, but I'm betting on more of the same, but of lesser quality: a brief title challenge, an "unforeseen" injury crisis, an eventual 3rd or 4th place finish, while featuring less talented footballers displaying less pretty football.
Oh well. At least we'll always have the Carling Cup kids to look forward to.
At the end of the day, though, I had a talk with my last patient. He's the local pharmacist, been coming to the clinic since '76. He grew up in the area, went to England for a couple of years after he graduated, and was lured back to Australia with an offer of a partnership with the local pharmacy. So he packed up his bags, came back home, and he's been working there for the past 50 years. It's a hell of a long time to be in one place, but he's "never wanted to take on the world", and he's really content with what he's accomplished.
Got an email from Gil Sung, a Korean guy I met in Galway when I was backpacking. When I met him, he'd scampered off to Europe to live a bit before his 2 year conscription started. He was planning on flying off to Russia and taking the Trans-Siberian Railroad back to Korea. He's in the middle of his military service now. He attached a couple of photos of me and him at the hostel. And I'm thinking that when I was in Galway, I was formulating plans that didn't involve me staying in Melbourne, working the same job and having the bad taste of falling heavily for a girl who doesn't reciprocate (again).
John Lennon said that life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans. I'm sure my last patient didn't think he'd spend the rest of his working life in the same pharmacy when he accepted that offer. And I'm pretty sure Gil didn't want to do two years in the army. But they're both fairly happy with the outcome. Maybe it's a case of keeping an open mind while you're waiting for something to come up.