If that's the rules of the game, then the rules is an ass.
We're even further on our way to a non contact sport, says anyone with common sense.
I'm not saying we go back to the days of Nat Lofthouse, but he's barely made contact with the keeper, let alone, committed a foul.
Just fuck off back to your tavernas, and take your Sunday night kebabs with you. We don't need your chilli sauce mate, or sala' wiv dah. Your raki rips me apart. I'll scratch all your Demis fukin Roussos records, too. AND you know where you can shove your fuckin bouzouki, as well.