Looking through the names in this weeks WAG File, a cloud of depression loomed. Have you seen Ballack’s wife? She makes Arsene Menger’s missus look like Linda Evangelista. I won’t have it and you my reader deserve a far greater ‘letchfactor’ to aid the misery that is your day than just some half decent Hausfräu.
So here’s one from the attic, so to speak.
Joe Cole (now happily married to the wonderous Mrs Cole, of course) was once set on set on by a love rival as he chatted up Keeley at a party. Former hairdresser Keeley had made no secret of the fact she has fancied Cole.
A worker at Far and Near Minicabs in Grove Park, South East London, said: “Joe was in a right state. No one recognised him at first. He looked more like a yobbo than a millionaire soccer star. He’d got bloody marks on his face and body. He had obviously been in a fight and come off worst. He was only wearing jeans and no drivers would take him. Eventually one agreed on condition he got cash from his dad as soon as he arrived.”
The rest of course is history. Joe met Carly, didn’t get duffed up and went to live on to live happily on a bench in Stamford Bridge.
That was the preamble and here then are the gratuitous snaps of the Page 3 stunna.
