Saturday, 21 May 2016

Paul Barton delivers his verdict on the 2016 FA Cup final.

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People often say to me, "Pauly, I know it falls your birthday almost every year but isn't the question of who will win the 2016 FA Cup meaningless when you consider that we'll all be dead in 100 years?"

Of course the answer is "yes." What does football matter in the face of the dread abyss, the pitless void that ultimately awaits us all?

But imagine if you will a world where nanobots, organ cloning and other medical advances cure every ill, ading decades, perhaps even centuries to our lives. Perhaps man, free from the confines of frailty can sore to new heights, new echelons of achievement that bring fresh zest, new profundity to human existence.

Or perhaps near immortality will leave us jaded, sick of life never ending, trapped in flesh prisons our souls have long since departed.

In this world, will we truly want to see an ancient Messi and Ronaldo squaring off in endless El Classico's, the perpetual football only interrupted by the players begging to die? Will sporting achievement itself die in a world where legacy is moot? How will we fair when we are robbed of mortality, when life loses all flavour? I can't say. But what I can say is that I fancy United for this one, but if Palace can get Dwight Gayle into the game, they have every chance of causing an upset.

We came in peace, you leave in pieces!
The Bartdog. X

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