Confessions of a Wino

January offers up endless possibilities for abstinence, pain and misery. When it comes to 2012 new year torture, my weapon of choice is a diet with the simple objectives of losing a bit of weight and getting fitter.

It is amazing that simply giving up alcohol (especially beer) and fried potatoes (chips, crisps etc) is enough to see me settle towards a more sensible weight. One that will give my knee ligaments a chance of survival as I occasionally pound the streets of city centre Manchester, trying to clear the smog from lungs that suffered cigarette smoke damage until 2003.

I’ve promised myself that I will re-introduce wine to my diet once I have lost half a stone. I’m already at 5lbs so things are looking promising. But I’ve just necked a Ruby Murray so tomorrow is another day on the treadmill.

Forgive the navel gazing. Normal wine service will resume soon.

Growing up in Manchester, I remember when Moss Side and Rusholme were “no-go” areas, except of course on Saturday afternoons when I was happy to pay some kid on a bike a couple of quid to “look after my car” whilst I went to Maine Road to follow the mighty blues.

Come to think of it, they have not been all that mighty since the mid seventies….until recently.  Third in the premiership and playing like Brazil (not soooooooo surprisingly since Svennis signed two Brazilian players).

For the benefit of George Dubya Bush, I ought to explain that a “Brazilian” is not in fact, a huge number, or a “hair” style, but a national of the S.American country, Brazil.

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