The Mystery of Rogue Male?
I cannot blame them. After all one doesn’t need a telescopic sight to shoot boar or bear; so when they came on to me watching the terrace at a range of one hundred and fifty yards, it was natural enough that they should jump to conclusions. And they behaved, I think, with discretion. I am not an obvious anarchist or fanatic, and I don’t look as if I took any interest in politics; I might perhaps have stood for an agricultural constituency in the south of England, bur that hardly counts as politics. I carried a British Passport, and if I’d been caught walking up to the house instead of watching it I should probably have been asked to lunch. It was a difficult problem for angry men to solve in an afternoon. They must have wondered whether I had been employed on, as it was, an official mission; but I think they turned that suspicion down. No Government- least of all ours- encourages assassination. Or was I a free-lance? That must have seemed very unlikely, any one can see that I am the type of avenging angel. Was I, then, innocent of any criminal intent, and exactly what I claimed to be- a sportsman who couldn’t resist the temptation to stalk the impossible? After two or three hours of their questions, I could see I had them shaken. They didn’t believe me, though they were beginning to understand that a bored and wealthy Englishman who had hunted all commoner game might well find a perverse pleasure in hunting the biggest game on earth. But even if my explanation were true and the hunt were purely formal, it made no difference. I couldn’t be allowed to live. ‘Rogue Male’ By Geoffrey Household (page one) I cannot blame them, one doesn’t need a sharp nib to prick the bloated ego’s that run English football; so when they found my blog secreted on QPRnet it was natural that they should jump to conclusions. They behaved, I think, with as much discretion, as a bunch of bored blokes in faceless offices could muster. I am not an obvious anarchist or fanatic and I don’t have the reputation of an ‘insider’; I may have added a barbed comment or two on the boards, but that hardly counts as informed. I may have worn a QPRnet t-shirt and had I been caught in the Bush Ranger I should probably have been asked my opinion on John Gregory. It was a difficult problem for opinionated men to solve on a football club message board. They must have wondered whether I had been employed on, as it were, an official mission; but I think they turned that suspicion down. No moderator- least of all ours- encourages character assassination. Or was I free-lance? That must have seemed very unlikely, I f you could see me you’d see I was hardly an avenging angel. Was I, then, innocent of any agenda, and exactly what I claimed to be, Rogue Male, outsider, and infiltrator, stalking whatever took his fancy? After two or three answers to the initial thread, I could see I had them shaken. Was it Varc? No, the word ‘doomed’ had yet to be mentioned, was it Simon? No, no referee had suffered. They didn’t know who it is, though hey were beginning to believe that a bored and continually skint Englishman who had kept himself to himself, might find a perverse pleasure in blogging the biggest game on earth. But even if my explanation were true and the blog was truly innocent, would it make any difference. Would I be allowed to live? ‘Rogue Male’ by ?
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