By Roy Hobbs
ALL this talk about ‘mental health’ you get today. ‘Ooh, Mr Site Manager, can I take the day off, I’ve got to look after my mental health instead of doing my job.’ What a load of bollocks.
In my day we didn’t have mental health. We had bottle. And if you didn’t have it, like what this Biles girl didn’t, you got the piss taken. Which is only right.
If you bottled it and let down the lads, you got called a poof and had lager poured over your head. That taught you to not bottle it again.
I mean, take this Biles girl. What’s she famous for? Doing cartwheels and fannying around. The stuff most of us grew out of when we were about five years old, know what I mean?
So alright, she’s mugged a load of idiots into giving her money to prance around on a carpet while someone like me, a real hero, has to get up at seven in the morning to drive a van.
And then it’s ‘Ooh, I took a mis-step and I’ve got powder all over my hand, it’s all about racism or something, can I put my tracksuit top back on?’
I tell you what, if that had been me there, I wouldn’t have cried racism or mental health. I’d have taken a run-up and punched that vaulting horse right in the f**king mouth. You want some? I’ll give you some.
That’s real bottle. That’s not waiting till 1941 to join the war. You listening, Biles?