Blue Blue Karma’s Going To Get You

Apologies to Phil Jagielka, but my first reaction this week on reading the headline “Everton Player Robbed” was to wonder whether the police have asked Clive Thomas, the former so-called “referee”, about his alibi for the evening in question. Don’t get me wrong: I’m not one to harbour a grudge against a bloke simply because he ruined my childhood by disallowing the perfectly good goal that would have won Everton the 1977 F.A. Cup semi final against Liverpool. After all, anyone with pathological exhibitionist tendencies and a deep-seated need to be at the centre of attention can succumb to the temptation to make up his own rules on the spur of the moment. No, the reason I would be asking Mr Thomas to help with police enquiries is not festering rancour but genuine concern for the wellbeing of the little Welshman’s soul.

Let me explain. During a recent pub conversation about ethics with my friend Aristotle McGuinness*, I was intrigued to learn about the concept of “fukarming”, which, it emerged, is the process of laying a curse on (or “fucking up”, to use the oriental term) an individual’s karma, thus helping to ensure his or her enduring misery in future lives.
“My question to you this evening,” said Aristotle, who after a few Newcastle Browns tends towards the illusion he is chairing Question Time, “is ‘Do you hate anyone enough to want them to suffer for ever? In the sense of FOR EVER.’”
“Clive Thomas,” I replied without thinking. “It wasn’t just that he got the decision wrong; it was that he knew he was doing wrong. It was a crime. If it was simply a mistake, why didn’t he explain or apologise?”
“My feelings exactly,” interjected the nun on the bar stool next to me. “Even the Liverpool players didn’t protest when the ball went in… I’ll say that again – it’s a phrase you won’t hear very often: Even the Liverpool players didn’t protest. Our Mother Superior at the time wrote to the Vatican to ask if it was possible to excommunicate Methodists**.”
“Interesting,” mused Aristotle. “So, basically, there are still tens of thousands of Everton supporters who would like nothing better than to see this man suffer?”
“I personally wouldn’t piss on the guy if he was on fire,” declared the nun. “And I know for a fact that Sister Veronica is praying for him to be reincarnated as a pawless rabbit with a rusty whistle stuck up his…”
“His karma is evidently in a dreadful state!” chipped in Aristotle. “From what you tell me, it sounds like the man is destined for one hell of a nasty future. What would it take for you to bekarm him?”
“If ‘bekarm’ means to lay off his karma, then I guess I’d take an attempt at an explanation and an abject, tearful apology on bended knee,” I admitted.
The nun looked doubtful. “No,” she said, after a few moments thought, “that would be nowhere near enough. The only way out for him now is to admit to a heinous crime he didn’t commit and pay the price for someone else’s wrong.”
“That’s magnificent, sister!” exclaimed Aristotle. “A crime he didn’t commit! Oh, the poetry of karma!”

So you see, Mr Thomas, no hard feelings. We really are just trying to help you. Perhaps you would like to start making your way down to the station? It’s for your own good.

*Aristotle’s mother originally named him Baz, but he was re-baptised after enrolling on a philosophy course at Birkenhead Technical College in the early 1980s. As a Tranmere Rovers supporter – an allegiance which may go some way towards explaining his chosen subject of study – he tends to be more objective than most Merseysiders in matters relating to the Everton and Liverpool football clubs.

** Apparently it wasn’t.