Dear Santa,
I haven’t peed in the sink or blown my nose on my girlfriend’s nightie this year, so can I please have:
Charlie Adam in a blue shirt that says ‘Etihad’ on the front. He will leave Blackpool – possibly for Everton (grrrrrr…) or Bolton, and he’s a class act. He’s not expensive, and nor is he a spent force from a continental bench.
Dzeko for £30 million. He’s awesome. David Silva was an inspired move, this could prove even more so. He wants to come to Eastlands, so just put the damn briefcase on the table, flip the catches and show Wolfsburg the money. They’ll grab it.
A whacking great sock to force into Garry Cook’s mouth. And preferably a secure, unlit and unheated cupboard to shove the twat into and keep it locked till kingdom come. The man upsets me. Yes, he has achieved positive things for the club, but the collateral damage makes my ring twitch.
Ten minutes in a room with Balotelli. He’s an arrogant twerp, and I can only forgive his chicken-hat and his juvenile demeanour if he starts proving his worth, sharpish. Now we’re rich and bordering on a successful era, PR becomes all the harder – his self-appraisal against Messi and Wilshere deserves five minutes of slapping and shouting in itself.
Adam Johnson starting more games. Case closed.
Come on now, it’s not too much to ask, and I don’t want to have to strangle a reindeer.
