CDA minister Henk Bleker scored an own goal when he offered Mauro Manuel a ticket to a football match live on television, says Youp van ‘t Hek.

So who did Henk Bleker take to the football calender’s high point Twente-PSV? I understand he had three tickets. Mauro and his mother didn’t want to go. I can’t say I blame them.
On the note, infamously and embarrassingly shoved over the table during Pauw & Witteman, Henk had written the word ‘mother’. Not foster mother, or stepmother or carer, but ‘mother’. That, obviously, is what he considers her to be: Mauro’s mother. Only a complete simpleton would want to separate the two, especially if he is a member of the party that has relentlessly and loudly proclaimed the family to be the cornerstone of society.
Still, it’s a pity Mauro didn’t go to Enschedé. Vain little man that he is, Henk would undoubtedly have ingratiated himself into the club’s boardroom, hoping for a moment with the gentlemen of the press.

Photographers
The bighearted junior minister who so loathed his own words but has to accept that ‘rules are rules’ after all would have posed for the photographers smiling broadly, the young Angolan by his side.
In that same board room he might have met up with a freshly showered Douglas, the then still Brazilian but soon to become Dutch Twente defender
Why was Douglas handed a Dutch passport?
Could it be for lack of opportunities in his home country? I’m talking football, mind you. Football opportunities. There are plenty of those here. Van Marwijk is counting on him.
Oranje
Our national coach is counting on Dutchman Douglas who has been here for all of four years. That’s four whole years. I would have loved it if Bleker, in the board room, with seven cameras pointed at him, could have explained to Mauro how that happened. It’s simple: Douglas is a married man. And a father. Tear a family apart? How very unChristian.
Just who did come with Henk to the match in the end? Was it Maxime and Gerd? Did they sit together in their grandstand seats, like three musketeers? Were they cosying up to each other?
What was going through their minds, I wonder. Could it have been something like ‘we are the last of the Christian Democrats and this time next year we will be in another line of work? We may not see a VIP seat for a very long time! Did they wave benevolently to the nice people of Twente? I’m sure they did. Because the have no idea how things really are. How people are laughing at them.
Helmet
Maybe ‘loathing’ would be a better word to describe it. Did the three of them do a jolly high five with the top brass of the football federation to celebrate the Douglas deal? That marriage idea was pure gold! Did Gerd, Maxime and Henk manage to get their hands on some tickets for the Poland matches? Or did they sit quietly, wearing balaclavas? A full face helmet is also good for those I don’t-want-to-be-recognised moments. A shame face helmet, in this case.
Did they discuss Henk’s note? Did he explain to Maxime and Gerd that he had got himself in so many corners that he didn’t know what he was doing, hence the note?
Or did only muffled sounds emanate from the full face helmet?
Maybe Henk didn’t go at all. Perhaps he rang all his friends and found that none of them wanted to come. They probably didn’t say it in so many words but the message must have been clear. Perhaps he even asked Ferrier and Koppejan as a last resort. They would have chickened out, of course.
Did he go with Wilders and Rutte? An excellent opportunity for a spot of coalition building! The ever smiling, papering-over-the-cracks Rutte, cagey Wilders and nervous Henk. A winning trio.
One thought must have crossed Rutte’s mind: ‘How amusing that Henk’s name is Bleker (which could be translated as ‘a person who uses bleach) and he’s sitting next to a person with ridiculous peroxide hair. It doesn’t get more symbolic than that.’
Youp van ‘t Hek is one of the Netherlands’ best loved comedians and writers