Big Phil's Motorcycle Diaries

(First posted on 606 on 27/06/08)

Tired of being 3rd choice centre back at Arsenal Phillipe Senderos decides to take some time off to travel across South America on his trusty Norton. He is joined on his journey by Emmanuel Eboue. Here is an extract from his diary.

3rd June

I flew into Buenos Aires today. The flight was horrific. I hate flying. I'm a big chap but I'm really not that good in the air.Thank God Emmanuel was with me. He's great company and he knows all the correct procedures if the plane goes into a dive.

4th June

We set off today out into the countryside on our Nortons. Emmanuel has never ridden a motorbike before but he says that he's very adaptable so he'll pick it up in no time.

5th June

Spent most of today in a roadside garage. Eboue hasn't mastered the bike at all yet. He keeps getting on going full speed ahead, looks like he knows what he's doing and then it all goes wrong and the bike breaks down. It's very frustrating.

6th June

We set off again this morning and now we're lost. I checked our position on the map but somehow we've drifted out of that position. I knew I should've brought my sat nav. Or at least had William or Kolo here they'd be able to tell me where I should be.

7th June

Eboue is really getting on my nerves. Every time we come to a village the local people run out to see us. They all want to touch us as we drive by but Eboue barely gets brushed by one of them and he falls off his bike. And then he writhes around on the floor for ages clutching his head. I keep telling him to wear a helmet. He does seem to recover quickly though.

8th June

Drove into Buenos Aires again. Not sure how that happened. I seem to have come full circle, every time I feel things are going ok, I'm building up my confidence on the bike I stop for the night and then I have to start again. Potentially I reckon I can get across South America but I don't think this stop start approach is the way for me. I've told Emmanuel to go home, it's obvious he'll never get the hang of riding a bike.

Rio Ferdinand's New Book

(First posted on 606 prior to Euro 2008)

The following is an excerpt from Rio Ferdinand's forthcoming contractually obliged new autobiography, released to coincide with Euro 2008.

"It got to the summer and despite my success in the Champions League I was still left with a hollow feeling as if something was missing in my life. I knew I should be doing something but I just seemed to have more time on my hands than usual. I can't think why. It's probably really obvious, I'm just a big ol' dufus.

Rather than kicking my heels I decided to play a few of my trademark hilarious practical jokes. Like the other day I went round to Cristiano Ronaldo's house and put a flaming bag of dog poo on his doorstep and then rang the doorbell. Then as I was running off to hide G-Nev called me and asked if I wanted to go round his to watch the football. I completely forgot about the flaming poo until I the match kicked off - it was Portugal vs Turkey. Ronaldo wasn't home he was at the Euro's. No wonder I saw so many fire engines whizzing passed me as I went round G-Nev's house. God, I'm such a dufus.

While I was round G-Nev's his brother P-Nev and his dad Nev-Nev came over. I thought 'here's a chance for some practical joking shenanigans' so I put cling film over the toilet bowl. Then like the dufus I am I forgot about it. A few funny fags later and I went back into the bathroom to take a dump.

I really am a dufus-ma-lufus."

Ray's Beauty Parlour

Since his retirement Ray Parlour has just been kicking his heels and doing a little punditry on the side, however he is finally getting the oppurtunity to live his dreams and open a beauty parlour. Here is an extract from his diary as he tries to get his new business underway.

5th April 08

Tomorrow's the big day, the Grand Opening. Nothing can spoil it. Except maybe the fact that Jade Goody is opening her own beauty parlour across the street. She thinks she can compete with me, the Romford Pele? Not a chance, they don't compare me to him 'cos I'm totally impotent, oh no, it's 'cos at Ray's you get a fantastic Brazilian.

6th April 08

What a day! I had my first customer, she was a right dog. Long, straight hair half way down her back. I said I've got the name of a fantastic hairdresser if you want. He'll give you beautiful golden locks like mine. She said she just wanted a manicure.

I closed up for an hour at lunch and when I came back someone had chucked a brick through the window. I bet it was that Jade Goody. I'll get her good.

7th April 08

A busy day, the word is getting round that Ray's is the premier beauty parlour in town. But then Jade's little salon did explode mysteriously in the night.

No one messes with the Romford Pele!

Peter Crouch's New Book

The following is an excerpt from Peter Crouch's forthcoming autobiography 'Tall Tales'.

As an integral part of the England team no one felt worse after our defeat to Croatia than me. Especially as Steve McLaren got so much stick for it. The whole umbrella thing was my fault, being so much taller than the rest of the squad I was the first to feel the raindrops. "Better put your brolly up, boss" I said. I was only having a laugh.

When we went out I thought I better concentrate on my Liverpool career. Unfortunately Rafa the gaffer doesn't like me. Partly because I call him Rafa the Gaffer rather than Mr. Benitez like the other lads. Also he hasn't spoken to me since I did my robot dance, apparently he had a nephew who lost an eye to a rogue robot. I was only having a laugh.

So it looks like I'll be plying my trade elsewhere next year. Again I think I have to take the blame for that too. I spoke to Mr Parry and he said "I think you're worth twice your height in millions Peter." So I said "Blimey, I'd take half that, I'm all gangly awkwardness and no end product." I mean, come on, I was only having a laugh.

Gary Neville's How To Play Football

The Art Of Defence:

A good defender is like a good moustache, it has to be strong and bold. A lacklustre moustache leaves the upper lip unguarded and a poor defender does the same to his goalkeeper. A striker is like puff pastry and no self respecting moustache lets pastry past without a fight.

Tactics:

Choosing your tactics is essential. In fact it's a lot like choosing the style of your moustache. Some people will go for a moustache for all occasions, others with the use of wax or clever trimming will adapt their moustache to suit the situation. For example a handlebar when going to job interviews and a Salvador Dali-esque tash when meeting a lady.

Positioning:

As a fullback a good sense of positioning is essential. I tend to think of it in terms of a moustache. Sometimes you need a moustache that spreads out across the width of your face other times you need to trim it so it barely juts out past your nostrils.

Marking:

There are two types of marking - zonal and man marking. I find with either one I get exposed if I'm up against someone with pace. However, to combat this I compare the two styles to my moustache. Man marking is like the middle of my tash, it clings to my upper lip and goes where my lip goes. Sometimes it tickles me but I just cant shake it off. Zonal is more like the edges of my moustache; looser, freer. They have the oppurtunity to move around but sometimes I find they are out of position. So which one do I prefer? I find a combination of zonal and man marking makes for a perfect moustache.

John Terry's New Book

The following is a excerpt from John Terry's forthcoming autobiography which he is contractually obliged to write whenever there is a summer tournament.

"It broke my heart when Croatia ended our chances of going to Euro 2008. To captain your country is a great honour and to captain it at a major tournament would be enough to make a grown man cry. Not that I've ever cried. I'm a real man. I did get a bit sad when I watched Ghost though. Does that make me, y'know, a bit fruity?

I was so mad when Croatia scored the third goal, I just wanted to punch someone at that point. Fortunately there were no bouncers around so I escaped an assault charge there. I couldn't stay mad at the lads though, I love those guys. In a rugged, manly way of course. You have to be a real man to play football. Although I did once hug Ashley Cole after I scored and he touched my bottom. Does that make me, y'know, a bit fruity?

This year I guess I'll have to book a holiday abroad when the tournaments on. Somewhere outside of Europe, like the Ukraine. I went there once to visit Andrei Shevchenko's family. I had to sleep in a room with his three brothers. It was really cold so we all ended up sharing the same bed. Does that make me, y'know, a bit fruity?

Sometimes I wish I was from another country so that I could go to Euro 2008. If I was German I would always be at the big tournaments. But if I was German I'd have to wear those funny little leather shorts wouldn't I? Would that make me, y'know, a bit fruity?

I couldn't be anything other than English though. If you cut me you'd see three lions in my blood. There's nothing more English than lions. Sometimes when I'm at home I pretend to be a lion. I roar and prowl and eat raw meat. I even have a little cuddly lion that I go to sleep holding. Oh I shouldn't have said that, I don't want people to think that I might be, y'know, a bit fruity."

Rooney's New Book

(This was first posted in April 2008)

The following is an excerpt from Wayne Rooney's forthcoming autobiography that he is contractually obliged to release whenever there is a summer tournament.

"We were there, all we had to do was hold on for the draw. I think in our hearts we all knew we hadn't played well but it was the result that mattered.

Then up popped Petric in the 77th minute and broke all our hearts. The lads were devastated. David Beckham was so upset he went straight out after the game and bought himself a Bentley. Bentley was so upset that he went out and bought Peckham. He doesn't earn as much as David see so he couldn't afford anything flash.

Me, I was angry. Angry at myself, if only I'd scored more goals, angry at Carson for making that blunder and angry at the team for not being as good as Man Utd and therefore not hiding my deficiencies as much. I was so angry I wanted to stomp some balls.

And where the hell is Croatia anyway? I mean, I know it's in Europe because the game was for the European Championships but what part is it in? France? Russia? And why do there names all end in 'ic'? Modric, Petric, Pranjic, Bilic all ic. I've just asked Coleen and she said "I'll give you the itch if you don't leave me alone while I'm writing." She's writing another autobiography too, it's called Coleen 2: This Time It's Personal Shopping. She's always so busy now it just makes me mad. So mad that I want to stomp some balls.

So this summer I'll have to find something else to do. Last year Ronaldo took me to Portugal to meet his family. I love Ronaldo. I hate him. I love him.

He took me to a farm where we had to try and hit a cow's backside with a banjo. I managed it four out of ten times but Ronaldo never seemed to miss so no one noticed how many mistakes I made. God I love him. But I hate him. He makes me so confused I want to stomp his balls."