The Life of Brian’s Statue: Let it snow
Brian Clough’s statue in Nottingham muses on his life and what’s happening in the world today…
The white stuff’s coming down again, and I’m the only one around here who’s not got a big thick coat on, or a woolly bobble hat. This old green sweatshirt of mine has always kept me warm – and now it’s immortalised in bronze, it’s better than ever.
You know what I think about this cold weather, and all this snow, don’t you? Well, if not, then guess what? You’re about to find out!
These days people spend far too much time fiddling about on their mobile phones and their DS’s, or whatever they’re bloody well called. I see ’em walking about, with their heads down, and their thumbs going ten to the dozen, and, if I could, I’d shake my head at ’em and shout at ’em to turn the bloody things off! People don’t talk to each other anymore, and I reckon that’s just bloody crackers!
I’ve even seen one or two walk into lamp-posts and shop windows while they’re tapping away on those contraptions – one or two ambulances have been down this road to cart ’em off to hospital.
I tell you what, if any of my players had injured themselves like that, I’d have had their guts for garters! It’s bad enough when they pick up an injury while watching television, or brushing their teeth. And, there were times when I thought about insisting they use plastic cutlery and paper plates at meal times – I even wanted it written into their contracts at one time – anything to keep ‘em fit. A high percentage of injuries do occur around meal-times, y’see.
But when it snows, people start to show each other a bit more consideration. I see youngsters helping out the oldies, and I love that! When cars get stuck, passers-by give ‘em a push, and the shop-keepers sweep up most of the snow and make sure some grit goes down. I see people smiling and joking with each other – that’s how people cope when things are bad.
That’s why I like the snow; it brings its own kind of magic. And it’s funny because, even though it covers everything up, people somehow begin to see more clearly. Apart from the fellers who run football clubs of course! They can’t see further than the bottom of their bank statements!