Adebayor or Hitler: Who is Wurst?

Originally posted on 606, re-posted here due to it's rather offensive content about chilis I presume)

Emmanual Adebayor and Adolf Hitler are very different people. One is the most evil man ever to walk the face of the planet, whose very existence has caused pain to millions of families across the world and is only counterbalanced by the ultimate force of good; Al from Die Hard whereas the other one is Hitler.

I'm joking of course. However if you had to say who you hated more right now who would it be?
Now let's look at the pros and the cons for them both:

Hitler - Pros
Vegetarian (which is a pro because it enables him to determine the strength of chilis just by the colour and size - very handy)
Banned Fox Hunting
Looks like Charlie Chaplin

Cons
Invaded Poland bringing about the most violent and destructive war of all time.

Adebayor - Pros
He's got a nice smile.
Scores goals.

Cons
Kicks people in the face.
Causes anger amongst opposition fans.
Greedy.
May or may not know his chillis.

So there you have it Hitler has less cons and more pros. This is as close as conclusive proof as your average 606er can cope with, without having some kind of embolism.

But the real choice is yours.

Who is worse or indeed wurst (which is German for worse, or possibly sausage, I'm not sure.)

Adebayor - Vote 5*
Hitler - Vote 1*

I would have to say the only way I could forgive Ade is if he came out the press and said "There's not a day goes by I don't feel regret. Not because I'm in here, or because you think I should. I look back on the way I was then: a young, stupid kid who committed that terrible crime. I want to talk to him. I want to try and talk some sense to him, tell him the way things are. But I can't. That kid's long gone and this old man is all that's left. I got to live with that."

But then Adebayor is no Morgan Freeman is he? He's barely even Denzil Washington.

Sky Super Sunday - The Return

Richard Keys: Hello and welcome to another Sky Super Sunday. So super that it would even make Superman spaff in his pants. Now that's pretty cocking super, I'm sure you'll agree. With me today is football's favourite scion, Jamie Redknapp and Dutch legend, Ruud Gullit.

Redknapp: Literally hello.

Gullit: Awright me old mucker?

Keys: Marvellous. Today's game sees recently promoted Burnley palying the cocking awesome might of Chelsea. Can Burnley cause an upset Ruud?

Gullit: Nah bruv. Burnley have only got two 'opes. Bob and no. Hahaha. Bob 'Ope. D'ya get it?

Keys: Er yes Ruud. Marvellous. Erm...why are you talking like that, aren't you Dutch?

Gullit: Well bruv. I 'eard McClaren doing on all that 'yesh ishn't football schpectacular' nonsense and I realised that Dutch people saand stupid. So I got meself a voice coach and now I speak like a proper geezer, innit.

Redknapp: I agree with everything Ruud said.

Keys: So you don't think Burnley have a cocking hope in hell then, Jamie?

Redknapp: Well I wouldn't say that. I mean Burnley are a good team...

Gullit: No they aint.

Redknapp: That's true.

Gullit: You really are spineless intchya?

Redknapp: Yep.

Gullit: I serviced your wife last night. She loved it.

Redknapp: Well as long as she's happy.

Keys: Splendid. And now without further ado lets go to our match commentators, Martin Tyler
and Andy Gray.

Tyler: Thank you Richard. Well Andy it's a tough ask for Burnley. How do you see this match panning out?

Gray: Aye well it's pretty much pointless Burnley turning up if ye ask me Martin, which ye probably did, I cannae remember, nor do I care, ye wee english erse. Chelsea are a toap four team. And as we all know the toap four dinnae get beaten by the likes ay Burnley.

Tyler: They beat Man Utd.

Gray: Shut it, ye cont. Ah'm the voice ay fitba. Ye're just an erse and dinnae forget it.

Tyler: Sorry Andy. I think you should punish me.

Gray: What?! I'm no a fruit, ye ken?

Tyler: I could dress like a schoolgirl?

Gray: Shut up, shut up, shut up! Would ye wear a wig?

Tyler: Yep.

Gray: Aye...well...mebbe meet me at the usual place after The Final Word then.

Hello, I'm "Honest" Wayne, and I sell cars. Now I know what you're thinking, 'he's a scouser' but despite this I am honest really. I live in Manchester now so it's alright.

Aaaaah! What was that was it a bomb? Quick everyone on the floor! Sorry, sorry false alarm. God, I'm embarrassed now. I'm just a bit y'know nervous.

Anyway, you're probably here to buy one of my cars. Why don't you have a look around see if anything takes your fancy. I've got a 60 year old Fiat out there. Looks like an old banger but she's a beautiful ride.

Do you fancy a cup of tea? I'll pop the kettle on. Aaaaaaargh! I tripped over the table leg. You saw it didn't you? It's leg was jutting out and tripped me up. Yeah I know it's now four foot away Ii must've pushed it when I tripped.

Anyway, what are you looking for? Just a cheap run around? Well I've got just the thing. It's an M reg Nissan Micra. Yours for £8000 and I'll chuck in the spare wheel for free. Hey! Where are you going? Come back! I'm honest, me.

Aaaaargh! I've fallen over again. I swear it must have been an earthquake or something. Honest.

Usmanov and Kroenke: The Big Debate

Arsenal's two major shareholders are both creeping ever closer to the 30% of shares needed to take over the club. Here is a transcript from a soon to be broadcast television debate between the two trying to win over the Arsenal faithful.

Presenter: Hello and welcome to todays debate. It's so huge it could be described as a mass debate, ha ha.

Director: Cut! Get off. Get off the damn stage and out of my sight.

Someone call Des Lynam, he doesn't do much anymore he must be available.

[20 mins later]

Lynam: Hi, I'm Des Lynam. And welcome to today's debate. Without further ado let's introduce you to our two guest speakers Alisher Usmanov and Stan 'the man' Kroenke.

Usmanov: Hello.

Kroenke: G'day cobbers. [Ivan Gazidis walks on and whispers into Kroenke's ear] Er...right. Howdy y'all I'm from the U.S.A!

Lynam: Mr Usmanov a lot of peopel worry that you are in fact a Russian gangster, how do answer your critics.

Usmanov: Well I certainly don't put horses heads in their beds.

Lynam: Well that's good. And Stan, you're patently a lovely chap who would be brilliant for Arsenal. What are your favourite colours?

Kroenke: Red and white of course. Yeee-ha!

[crowd whoops]

Lynam: And Mr Usmanov you've called your company Red and White Holdings isn't that just maliciously stealing good ol' Stan's favourite colours?

Usmanov: What? He's clearly just trying to curry favour with the fans. It's shameless.

Lynam: But isn't it true that you eat babies?

Usmanov: It was one baby! Can't you people forgive and forget?

Lynam: And even worse, don't you consort with David Dein?

[crowd boos]

Usmanov: Well yes, but so did Mr Kro-

Lynam: Lets have a little less mudslinging, Mr Usmanov. This is a serious debate. Now isn't it true that you inject poison into people with umbrellas?

Usmanov: That's a half truth.

Lynam: And that's enough from you, you fat Russian mobster.

Stan, you fantastic man you, if you became the Arsenal owner what changes would you make?

Kroenke: I'd just listen to the fans. Plus I'd pump all my unlimited wealth into the club. We'd win everything ever I can 100% guarantee it.

Lynam: Well there you have it. Stan Kroenke, legend. Usmanov, evil. I think we can safely say Stan will be the next owner of -

[Jack Wilshere, Henri Lansbury and Fran Merida rush onto the stage]

Wilshere: Wait!

Lansbury: We've found out something shocking about Stan Kroenke

Merida: Jinkies!

Wilshere: He's not Stan Kroenke at all. Show them Henri.

[Lansbury grabs Kroenke's face and rips off his mask]

Lynam: Oh my God! It's David Dein!

Dein: And I would've got away with it too, if it wasn't for those pesky kids.Merida: Jinkies

A Rant and then a Little Ray of Hope...

Right, we lost. Not just that we were comprehensively beaten over two legs by a better team. So what now?

Firstly, I would like to point out that Ronaldo's performance last night, while undeniably good, was not something so extraordinary, so out of this world that no team could cope with it as the press seem to be making out. In fact to suggest so does Man Utd a huge disservice. They won because they played very well as a team. Ji-Sung Park, Fletcher, O'Shea all gave everything worked hard, knew their roles and supported their more illustrious team mates fantastically. The first goal was not made by Ronaldo it was made by the pass that released him, his cross was pretty much straight at Gibbs and on another night would have been cleared. His second goal was a great free kick but he is a taker of great free kicks rather than a great free kick taker. Once or twice a year he scores a screamer but the majority of his free kicks go straight down the keepers throat or miles over the bar as all his other efforts did last night. And the final goal was a wonderful break but given the situation of the game we had to leave our defence exposed and once again the goal was made by the ball to Rooney and then his perfect, and unselfish pass to Ronaldo.

This is not to take away from Ronaldo in any way he is clearly a great, great player. But last night showed that Man Utd are more than just one great player. They are a great team. And trust me I don't say that easily. Arsenal on the other hand were not a great team last night. We lacked creativity, more than any other Arsenal team since Wenger took over. Our problem used to be our profligacy now we don't even create the chances to miss.

So how do we bridge this gap? Well we already have to some extent. Andrey Arshavin is a creative player, a player that can change games, score goals and frighten defences. A bit like Ronaldo but without the sort of face you want to punch. With Arshavin in our side over the two legs it might have been slightly different. Maybe not enough to win the game but maybe enough to score in open play at least. We still need to add to our squad over the summer but we don't need wholesale changes.

I genuinely believe next year Arshavin, Nasri will give the support for Fabregas that we need. I think Song is developing into a top quality midfielder but we could do with some competition for the defensive midfielder spot which I don't think Diaby or Denilson will ever really provide. We need a better cover in central defence than Silvestre and we need a striker who will score goals week in week out. Hopefully a fully fit Eduardo will be able to do this.

The gulf between us and Man Utd is not as big as these games suggest. I'm sure we will be more consistent at the start of the season which will gives us the confidence to go on and do well next year, we aren't as naive as we were at the start of this year. Arshavin looks phenomenal and is experienced enough to know how to produce throughout the season and hopefully youngsters like Gibbs will come back stronger from this setback.

So we're out but I'm not down. I'd love us to have the success of Man Utd but if we don't it doesn't change a thing. Because Arsenal have always been, and will always be, by far the greatest team the world has ever seen.

In my eyes at least.

If Reality's So Good Why Don't You Go Live There?

If we look at the reality of our situation we'd have to admit we have an uphill battle to go through to the final of the champions league but sod reality let's just drift off into a fantasy world instead.

It was a fantasy in '89 that we'd be able to go to Anfield on the last day of the season and put two past Liverpool. It was an even bigger fantasy in the 89th minute that we'd still be able to nick a last minute goal to win the league. But somehow the fantasy came true.

And no one gave us a prayer in '94 against Parma but somehow Smudger pulled off a phenomenal volley to put us in fantasy land once again.

Then of course there was the '97/'98 season. We were dead and buried in the league, there was absolutely no way we could overturn Man Utd's lead but we put on a fantastic unbeaten run and in the end won it comfortably. Surely that couldn't have happened in real life could it?

And going the entire season unbeaten? Ludicrous! Never gonna happen. Except it did.

And surely a makeshift defence with Flamini at left back and Senderos in the middle could never get to a Champions League final? That's just cloud cuckoo land surely?

So don't panic Arsenal fans, we may be down but we're not out. We don't do things the 'real' way, we do things in a fantastical way, in a dreamworld way, in a we're-the-battling-underdog-not-got-a-hope-in-hell-Rocky-Balboa way, we do things The Arsenal Way.

What's that in Silvestre's pocket? Er...lint?

I'm not one to bash Arsenal players, I'll bash players from other teams, I'll bash other teams fans and occasionally I'll even bash the bishop, but in general Arsenal players are off limits until they've left the club and then they're fair game.

So here's hoping this is Silvestre's only season for us.

He isn't solely to blame for our defensive woes this season, Toure, Gallas, Clichy, Gibbs, Fabianski and Sagna have all made mistakes which have lead to goals but every time Silvestre plays he scares the hell out of me.

Was he always this bad? Did he just look good in a great Man Utd team? Or has he lost his pace, positional sense or ability to tackle in his old age? Did he ever have these attributes in the first place? God knows.

I actually supported his signing, figuring he wouldn't play much and would give us some much needed experience in the changing room, but since he's been called upon I wonder what experience he brings. Gibbs was clearly jittery last night and not once did I see Silvestre go over and have a word or calm him down or even, god forbid, lead by example.

So he's not helping the youngsters and he's not doing the business on the pitch and sadly at the moment he's the only option we've got. Bring back Senderos, all is forgiven.

Either that or tell Bould to bring his boots for the next game.

Sky Super Sunday

Richard Keys: Hello and welcome to another cracking Sunday of football. Our first game today is a top of the table clash between Liverpool and Manchester United. Cocking hell, it doesn't get much cocking better than that does it? With me today is of course the ubiquitous Jamie Redknapp and Dion Dublin.

Redknapp: Hello Richard.

Dublin: Top o' the morning to ye.

Keys: Er...Dion, are you doing an Irish accent?

Dublin: Oi am, Richard. Oi've decided moi accent should match moi surname.

Keys: Marvellous. Now today's fixture could go a long way to deciding the eventual winners of the league. Jamie, as an ex-Liverpool player can I assume you'll be cocking rooting for them?

Redknapp: You can Richard. Though of course I have a lot of respect for Man Utd even though I never played for them, my father hasn't managed them and I have no relatives on the playing staff. I mean that must be the sign of a good team if they don't meet any of my usual criteria and I still respect them.

Keys: Very cocking true, Jamie. And Dion, as an ex-Man Utd man do you have the same respect for Liverpool?

Dublin: No oi don't, Richard. I think the manager is a big bollocks, the players are all bollockses and the city of Liverpool is entoirely populated by bollockses.

Keys: There's a large Irish contingent in Liverpool though.

Dublin: Bollocks.

Keys: Marvellous. And now without further ado let's join our commentarty team of Martin Tyler and Andy Gray.

Tyler: Thank you Richard. And what a game we have in store for us today. The two teams at the top of the table, you must be almost overflowing with excitement Andy?

Gray: Aye ah fockin well am, Martin. This is going to be an absolute classic. Two toap four teams battling it oot for the title of supreme champions of everything ever. It's fockin amazing. I mean lets face maist of the shite we show I couldnae be ersed with. It's fockin rubbish ah'm telling ye. I'd rather have your sweaty bawbags in mah fockin mooth than watch most of the fockin shite we have to put up with. Seriously Martin I'd rather have a dick up mah fockin erse...Martin? Martin? Are ye ok?

Martin: I...er...I appear to have...er...come in my pants, Andy.

King's Conundrum

To quit or not to quit, that is the question. Whether it is nobler for me to bow out of international football to prolong my Tottenham career or suffer the constant agony in my knee and give everything for club and country?

Of course I owe Tottenham everything, they brought me through their youth ranks and put me into the first team. I played my socks off. Well I say played my socks off, I had to yank them off, the elastic was too tight and was cutting of the circulation in my weak, weak legs.

Then they made me captain, despite only appearing once every blue moon. I say once every blue moon, but in truth I did miss a couple of blue moons due to being injured.

Of course not everyone at Spurs was supportive. Darren Anderton and I never got on. He felt I was a threat to his place on the physio table. He was very competitive, always claiming he could get injured easier than me. But I showed him. One day I fly landed upon my outstretched leg and pop! my knee was dislocated. In your face Darren.

But I also have to think of my country. I've never been a regular at international level and not just because I'm always injured. I'm also just not good enough. There has always been at least two better defenders than me. But I'm sure my retirement would be a great loss to the England team nonetheless. They need someone to make Owen Hargreaves look like he's regularly fit. Who will fill that role now? Well I suppose they could try and see if Tomas Rosicky has any English relatives.

So what to do? If I retire I may be able to play four, maybe five, games a season for Spurs but if I keep my international dreams alive I may one day almost nearly be in contention for a starting place in the England team at a major tournament right up until about two days before it starts when bang! there goes my knee again.

It is quite the conundrum.

Arsenal. We're all about the spitting.

"For their club captain Cesc Fabregas to spit at my assistant at the end of the game shows you what this club is all about."

The above is a quote from Phil 'the stain in my pants is a nice shade of' Brown. Regardless of whether the incident happened or not what the bleedin' flip is Phil 'brother of Charlie' Brown talking about? Why would one player, Captain or not, spitting at someone reflect the club as a whole? Last season was our club all about sitting on the half way line crying? When Henry was captain was our club all about looking vaguely pissed off every time we scored? Or when Tony Adams was captain was our team all about getting drunk out of their minds at every available opportunity? Well actually the answer to the last one is yes. But the points still valid. One man's actions do not tell you what a club is all about.

And if they did surely Wenger's actions would supercede the captain's? In which case Arsenal would presumably be about myopia. So is Phil 'I wish Whitney had married me instead of Bobby' Brown not the main focal point of his team? Do his actions not represent how he wants people to perceive his team? Is he in fact leaving the burden of that particular responsibility entirely on his club captians shoulders? And if so what kind of manager is he? A shit one, clearly.

Arshavin Talks To Garth Crooks

(For those who missed my brief appearance as Parlour's Annual Hat-trick on 606)

The following is an interview given by Andrey Arshavin to everyone's favourite pundit, Garth Crooks, discussing his recent move to Arsenal.

Garth: Hello Andrey, your name is the equivalent of the British name Andrew.

Arshavin: Erm...ok.

Garth: Having recently moved from Zenit St Petersburg which is a Russian team to Arsenal in England there will have been many cultural differences you've had to face. The language barrier, the food, the people you meet all of these are very different to your native country.

Arshavin: Erm...also in my country our interviewers ask questions rather than make statements.

Garth: As a player I found that foreigners often struggled to adapt to the pace of English football. You have also said this has been the biggest challenge for you. Which shows that we as footballers are on the same wavelength, because I believe deep down all footballers are the same.

Arshavin: Erm...I'm sorry are you interviewing me our just stating your views on football?

Garth: Interviewing obviously. My style is somewhat different to your average pundit. I'm more erudite, more verbose, better educated, I am in short an football intellectual.

Arshavin: Did you play football?

Garth: Yes. For Tottenham.

Arshavin: Ah I see.

Garth: So cultural differences in football...

Arshavin: I have noticed in England that all the players wear boxer shorts, in Russia we never do this.

Garth: Why not?

Arshavin: Chernobyl fallout.

Sod 'em then

Once again I have been banned from 606. My favourite part is that they give no explanation for it but they have sent an email saying my profile, only recently approved by the mods, was 'off-topic' this is a profile in which I stated I was Arsenal born and bred. This has led me to believe the BBC 606 boards are not a sports forum at all but instead are in fact a forum for the brainwashing of young minds.

I think the BBC believe if they can attract enough 16 year olds they will be able to mould them into non-offensive, humourless adults by the twin threats of pre-moderation and banning. In this way they can create the next generation of bland, safe broadcasters and the BBC will never have to go through the Brand/Ross debacle ever again.

The future is dull the future is beige.

Thanks for all the support but I'm afraid I can no longer be arsed with trying to get back on 606. I will probably keep scanning the boards (it beats doing real work) but I shall no longer be infesting the boards with my evil, subversive filth.

I will keep posting it here and on Dave's blog though. Incidentally did anyone notice that they said that both JJG and DP's comments were unacceptable? What did Dave ever do? Well apart from all the xenophobia, ignorance and condoning of violence masquerading as British grit? I always thought that was the BBC's core values.

And just to finish off this ill-focused rant: who exactly does necrophilia offend anyway? The dead? Well fuck them.

Beach Football

Arsene Wenger described Eduardo's goal against Burnley as a 'beach' shot. Which is all well and good but in my experience beach football doesn't involve shots like that at all.

Firstly you turn up at the beach, the outing has been meticulously planned for a couple of weeks, the weather has been glorious in the days building up to the trip and then on that morning the rain lashes down. Unperturbed you ring your mates and come to the conclusion it'll probably brighten up later.

Everyone piles into a couple of cars and you drive to the nearest coast. On arrival the rain has eased up slightly and you have to find a spot on the stony beach in amongst the families wrapped in jumpers huddled around a solitary deckchair behind a futile windbreak. Finding a prime spot you chuck a couple of bags down for goalposts and prepare for a game of three and in.

Then calamity strikes. You've forgotten a ball. You send one of your mates off to one of the cheapy beach shops to get an air flow ball from one of those large string bags hanging outside the shopfront. The wag that he is, he also purchases a 'kiss me quick' hat that must be worn by whoevers in goal.

Then the game can start in earnest. One of you - the one who almost, nearly had a trial with Brentford - tries a screamer form 20 yards which gets caught by the wind and flies into the sea. He refuses to retrieve it. You trudge down to the freezing water pluck the bobbing ball out the sea, roll it in front of you and go on a mazy dribble through sandcastles, patches of seaweed and some unknown brown liquid sinking into the sand before losing the ball as soon as you reach another human being.

The game lasts about 10 minutes until everyone is exhausted from trying to run on the stone and sand surface. This usually coincides with the ball once again being hoofed into the sea by the almost, nearly Brentford trialist. After the match you retire to the nearest pub and watch out the window as your ball floats away to France.

Now that's beach football.

(Originally posted by my new persona on 606 but due to pre-mod pretty much went unnoticed.)

A Not Entirely Shocking State Of Affairs

Well I went and did it, I got banned from the BBC's 606 boards.

How it took them so long I will never know. Anyway I am hoping I'll be able to return, my first attempt got instantly banned too so hopefully the third one will stay. (I've still got some way to catch up with Gross_is_God, who made it up to about 24 accounts I believe) . Any way if I get banned again I'll give up and only post on here and of course Dave Pundit's blog.

Dave too is banned so this weeks predictions will go up on his blog and I'll use my new account to post a link to them, then next week I'll go about setting up Dave Pundit 2: Pundit Harder.

Anyway back to posting non-offensive rubbish in an attempt to escape pre-mod.

***edit***

3rd attempt has been banned now. Maybe I'll try again tomorrow. Anyway cheers for all the appreciation threads, some of them even lasted long enough to get comments!

The Glory Hunters: Pre-Season Friendlies

Previously on The Glory Hunters: When Eric eats a banana an amazing transformation occurs. Eric is Bananaman! No, sorry, what I mean is Clive Chives and Tarquin meet every week at the Slug and Lettuce to discuss their miniscule knowledge of football and letch over the Czech barmaid, Karina.

Clive: Hello Tarquers my old chummeroonie!

Tarquin: Are you ok?

Clive: I got out of work a touch early today so I've already had drinky-poo, I think I'm a bit squiffy to be honest.

Tarquin: What did you have?

Clive: I believe it's called a Magners.

Tarquin: I'll have one of them then.

Clive: So have you decided what team to support yet?

Tarquin: Well I noticed that Arsenal are on TV quite a bit over the summer. The Elements Cup and the Hamster-cam Tournament I think.

Clive: Hamster-cam?

Tarquin: Yep, must be the sponsors. Hamster-cam, CCTV for hamster cages I guess.

Clive: Hmm, I wonder if they'd do one for dog baskets, I'd hate for something to happen to Lord Paw-Paw while I was out. So are you planning on sticking with Arsenal then?

Tarquin: Well only if they win these cups. I mean two trophies, that'd match your lot's achievements wouldn't it.

Clive: It would. Gosh I hope my Manchester United boys play in some tournaments so they can stay ahead of Arsenal. I heard something about the Olimpets, maybe they could enter that.

Tarquin: They may well do, my old chummer, they may well do.

Clive: So what do you think about the Magners then?

Tarquin: Not bad, it's like apple beer or something. I can't believe no one thought of it before. Are you ok chummer?

Clive: I think I'm going to be sick. Don't let the Polish sort see me. Bleeeeeuurrrgghhh.

Tarquin: I think she's Czechoslovakian, Clive. Oh dear. That'll never come out of corduroy chummer.

Arsenal v Spurs: What You May Have Missed

0 mins: After losing the toss Robbie Keane wheels around, arms aloft, to appeal the decision.

5 mins: Ref tells Eboue that the two teams used up their quota of derby goals in the last match and no matter what happens the match will end 0-0.

6 mins: Eboue thinks 'the shops are open 'til 5 on a Sunday, if I get sent off I can still get the missus a Valentine's Day card.'

20 mins: Ledley King staggers onto the pitch holding a rifle and shoots Gael Clichy in the head. Causing him to require treatment from the physio. The Spurs fans chant 'Same old Arsenal, always cheating.'

45 mins: Ref blows for half time. Robbie Keane wheels around, arms aloft, to appeal the decision.

60 mins: Eboue, having been sent off and nipping to the shops, returns with a bag of pick 'n' mix. Wenger is furious, he didn't get any cola bottles.> > 81 mins: Niklas Bendtner does something quite good. Everyone is stunned.

90 mins: Ref blows for full time. Robbie Keane wheels around, arms aloft, to appeal the decision.

Insider Information

I have it on good authority that if Arsenal's bid for Arshavin does fall through Wenger is going to take a gamble on a player from the lower leagues.

My sauces tell me that the player in question is Ebbsfleet United goal machine Michael Gash. Wenger has been quoted as saying "I am very interested in Gash. He has all the attributes I require. He can go narrow or go wide or even drop deep."

Arsenal's lower league scout Guy Nacologist has admitted "Wenger has asked me to look into Gash on more than one occasion. And I must say I like what I've seen."

The Real David Beckham

Throughout his career David Beckham has suffered accusations of being a footballer of very little brain, however recent documents have come to light proving that this is a myth created by the PR people at Manchester United who realised that a loveable buffoon was a much more saleable commodity than an intellectually superior who could possibly alienate himself from the common man. The following is an extract from the draft copy of Beckham's autobiography. It is a fascinating insight into a man whose brain genuinely is as cultured as his right foot.

"Many people have asked me what I think of pithy epithet by which my wife and I are known in the tabloid press, Posh and Becks. Well as a professional sportsman I would have preferred a more gentrified moniker such as Beckers, something you could imagine being preceeded by 'well bowled' and succeeded with 'old sport', however as football is classified as more of, shall we say, a sport of the people I am happy to settle for the uncomplicated contraction of my name.

As for my wife's little nickname of Posh I presume many people think it is ironic due to her less than salubrious upbringing, however even the most casual genealogist could dip into her family tree and find out that Victoria, as her regal name suggests, is, in fact, 27th in line for the throne. This combined with the fact that her father is good chums with the Prince of Monaco suggests that the only irony in my wife's given title is that it is a gross understatement!

In fact on the eve of the England versus Brazil game in 2002 both myself and Rio Ferdinand were discussing this very point in length over a rather wonderful glass of tawny port. He revealed to me that he is in fact a distant relative of the usurped Russian Tsars. We talked long into the night and, if I may be brutally honest, I believe it affected our performance the next day. What a pair of ninnies we are.Rio and I often enjoy long in-depth chats. Only the other day we discussed the relative merits of modernist film-maker Jean-Luc Goddard. I am a huge fan of his masterpiece Weekend, Rio on the other hand prefers the realism of the earlier French films such as Le Regle de Jeu. We phoned Wayne Rooney to see if he could mediate on our dilemma and he said "Jean-Luc Goddard? I ain't a fan. But I'd give the captain off Voyager one." Philistine."

Our Next Signing...

While watching the football in The Dog (that's my local pub by the way, I wasn't molesting the family pet during Super Sunday or anything) one of the other regulars shouted "My granny could've scored that!"

Now at first I doubted the verity of his claims. For starters he was about 50 looking so his grandmother would have to be at least in her 80's. Don't get me wrong, I reckon in her day she might well have been a fabulous striker but very few players maintain their eye for goal as an octagenarian. Arjen Robben being the only notable exception.

However as a dedicated football fan I decided to check out this fat drunk's claims. I popped along to the local old folk's home and watched with interest the 5-a-side tournament thay had on. Lo and behold there was the old boy's gran doing her magic on the pitch.

She was like Pele, Maradona and Zidane all wrapped into one. Her sexual organs didn't work, she needed drugs to keep her going and her hairline was receeding rapidly. However she was also a bit nifty in front of goal.

Instantly I filmed her on my camera phone and then uploaded the footage onto YouTube. I forwarded the link to Arsene Wenger and he got back to me the next day.

Now I know what your thinking, Wenger doesn't sign people over 20 and especially not English players over 20, there was no way he'd go for this 80+ year old granny but I got in touch with Obafemi Martins and he put me in touch with a good friend of his and we sorted out a French passport for the old dear.

So look out for our next signing Le Old Drunks Grand-mère, Mrs Blenkinsopp. You heard it here first.

Redknapp's Laboratory

Harry: Mwa ha ha ha haaaa! I have done it Jamie, I have worked out how to create the perfect player. Come, Jamie, to the laboratory.

Jamie: Yes dad.

Harry: How many times have I told you, when I'm in mad scientist mode refer to me as master. And lisp more.

Jamie: Yeth marthter.

Harry: That's better. You could try hunching your back more though. Now to create the perfect footballer I have had to scavenge graveyards to get the perfect body parts. I warn you the resulting player will be a grotesque, hideous beast.

Jamie: You're creating him in your own image then, marthter?

Harry: Yes. No, wait. Don't be so cheeky.

Jamie: Thorry marthter.

Harry: Now before I can bring my composite footballer to life first I must brew the essence of footballing genius. Pass me the contents of that jar marked 'perfect player juice'.

Jamie: I can't get the perfect player juith out, Marthter.

Harry: Tap it up, Jamie. Tap it up.

Jamie: It'th coming now, Marthter. Where do you want it?

Harry: Pour it in to this test tube. Now all I need is to shake it up. Where's one of those stopper things you put in the top of the tube?

Jamie: Do you mean a bu-

Harry: Don't say that word!

Jamie: What? Bun-

Harry: Shh! You know we don't use the b word here Jamie, now where are those stoppers?

Jamie: Over in thith nondescript brown paper bag marthter.

Harry: Thank you Jamie. Now to pour it in to the player's mouth. Mwa ha haa haaa haaaa! It's working, it's alive!

Jamie: It lookth like Darren Bent, marthter.

Harry: Bother. I'll just go and buy Robbie Keane back.

Ronaldo's Kebab Shop

Hello peeps! I am Cristianopolus Ronaldopolus and I run the finest kebabery in the whole of the world. Yes is true.

Some people say Messiopolus in Spain run a better kebaby shop. But when he cooks I think there is flash in the pan.

The problem is people do not respect my kebabs because I make them in Manchester. But every week I have thousands of people travel from Guilford and Staines and Suffolk and Home Counties to eat my Kebab. But no one from Manchester eat my kebab. They all prefer Elanopolus Kebabs across town.

But people in Europe do not like my kebabs. So I is thinking I will move to Spain and set up my kebab shop across the road from Messiopolus and prove I am best kebaby maker.

But what about all the people in England who love my kebabs? Who have made my kebabs famous? I do not care about them. I only care about my kebabs. In Spain I can charge much more for my kebabs and everyone will acknowledge that I am world's best kebaby. Silly people who eat my kebabs now are like nothing to me. Anyway I hear they used to eat Beckham's Prawny Sandwiches before I came and once I've gone they'll probably try out Nani's Falafels. But trust me they are inferior products.

But if I cannot set up a kebab shop in Spain I will tell those funny southerners that appear to be made of plastic who love my shop that I was never going to make kebabs in Spain. Oh no I tell them I only make kebabs for Englishers.

But behind doors which are closed I will weep tears of kebab-related woe into my mummy's pinafore. She knows that it has always been my dream to make kebabs in Spain. Oh mother! Why I choose to make kebabs in England? No one will ever believe I is best kebaby man in world while I make kebabs for people who think Darren Fletcher's Haggis is edible.

Big Phil's Holiday

Arsenal's permanently worried looking polymath, Phillipe Senderos, is as we all know a serial diarist. The following is an excerpt from his time on a caravaning holiday with Alexander Hleb.

28th June: Today was the first day of our holiday to Devon. Just me, Alex and Clarabel my trusty caravan. Alex arrived at my house at 6 o'clock this morning so we could get an early start. I wanted to get out the road before there was too much traffic. It's been a while since I took Clarabel out so I was a little nervous. I was fine after a while though it just took me a bit of time to get my confidence up.

29th June: The problem with Clarabel is that she is only a 2 berth so Alex and I have to sleep rather close to each other. Boy does Alex dribble! Dribble, dribble, dribble. I'm beginning to think that's all he does.

30th June: There's not a lot to do on the caravan site so me and Alex went for a walk along the coast. Alex kept on going up these winding paths that led nowhere. Whereas I was all at sea for prolonged periods and without Kolo or William to rescue me. Then I lost Alex. I thought he'd gone to get ice cream but he insists he didn't.

1st July: Pinch, punch, first of the month. I decided not to pinch or punch Alex, I once did that to Robin Van Persie and he was in hospital for 6 weeks. Getting a bit bored in the caravan now. I tried to have a chat with Alex by asking him what his goals in life are. "Goals?" He replied. "I'm not sure I know what you mean."

2nd July: We went to Torquay today. But Alex didn't like it. He said all the arcades and surf shops were to noisy for him. I found an old arcade game called Outrun. Alex told me that it was a good choice as I was always getting out run. I didn't get it.

3rd July: Had an argument with Alex. He said he never wanted to come to Devon in the first place. He thought we should have gone to Barcelona. I told him to sod off there if thats how he feels. And now he's gone off in a sulk. I don't know where he's gone. I can't make up my mind if I'd prefer him to come back or just go to Spain. Maybe I should phone Emmanuel Adebayor he's a man who can always make up his mind.