Hi - I'm reading "ONE STEP AHEAD: detectives hunt a serial killer who knows all their moves (The DSI Jeffrey Brandt Murders Trilogy Book 1)" by DENVER MURPHY and wanted to share this quote with you.
Great quote from a really good book. Having watched a bit of Spanish football recently, the broken leg scenario gets taken to the extreme.
Great quote from a really good book. Having watched a bit of Spanish football recently, the broken leg scenario gets taken to the extreme.
"Similarly, he had found a way of getting Franklin to agree to meet up when it had seemed he would be too busy. But on the other hand, he didn’t even know what Arsenal game Franklin had been referring to, much less had tickets for them.
Brandt hated football; ninety minutes of watching massively overpaid prima donnas falling to the ground and writhing in mock-pain as though they had broken their legs, only to jump up and celebrate scoring a goal like they had just discovered the cure for cancer.
And that was watching it on television from the comfort of his armchair.
The only enjoyment it had ever provided him was the fact that his wife had hated it more. Switching it on had been Brandt’s way of driving her from the sitting room; something he found all too tempting in the latter years of their marriage. Now, not only would he have to go to a game by choice, but he would have to pay for the privilege. As Brandt headed into the kitchen to fire up his laptop, he tried to reassure himself that he had made the right decision under difficult circumstances, and what he would gain from the day would be worth the hassle.
After twenty minutes on the internet and a frustrating phone call, he realised that the effort required to make this work was far greater than he had imagined. His initial relief at discovering they were playing at home, rather than somewhere like Newcastle, was tempered by who their opponents were. Even Brandt’s limited knowledge extended to an appreciation that a game between Arsenal and their north London rivals Tottenham Hotspur was likely to increase demand for tickets."
Brandt hated football; ninety minutes of watching massively overpaid prima donnas falling to the ground and writhing in mock-pain as though they had broken their legs, only to jump up and celebrate scoring a goal like they had just discovered the cure for cancer.
And that was watching it on television from the comfort of his armchair.
The only enjoyment it had ever provided him was the fact that his wife had hated it more. Switching it on had been Brandt’s way of driving her from the sitting room; something he found all too tempting in the latter years of their marriage. Now, not only would he have to go to a game by choice, but he would have to pay for the privilege. As Brandt headed into the kitchen to fire up his laptop, he tried to reassure himself that he had made the right decision under difficult circumstances, and what he would gain from the day would be worth the hassle.
After twenty minutes on the internet and a frustrating phone call, he realised that the effort required to make this work was far greater than he had imagined. His initial relief at discovering they were playing at home, rather than somewhere like Newcastle, was tempered by who their opponents were. Even Brandt’s limited knowledge extended to an appreciation that a game between Arsenal and their north London rivals Tottenham Hotspur was likely to increase demand for tickets."
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