Join me every Thursday evening when the Tavern Landlord, the Gob on Legs, unleashes his ire against anything football related from the past week. From Arsene’s chronic myopia, to Liverpool’s gobby owners, Man City’s spendthrift ways Didier Drogba being a berk or the referee controversy at Old Trafford. No club is spared, no player immune and if you are easily offended about anything negative about your club, then get a grip, you really need to develop a thicker skin in this modern, cruel world…
Dider Drogba eh? What a legend, what a player, what an overgrown crybaby!
I’m sick of seeing this numpty rolling around the floor in agony every 25 seconds should anyone dare to challenge him. It’s pathetic. No wonder John Terry’s getting cheesed off with it. I’m sure in the Liverpool game the England skipper walked up and said “Oy Didier! Pack it in mate, we’re winning the game but you are making us look like right arseholes! If you can’t stay on your feet, get some stabilisers fitted.”
The thing is, he doesn’t need to do it. He’s a great player, unplayable on his day. We’d love him at Prenton Park, but if he kept rolling around on the floor, he’d get run over by the club-footed cloggers who play for us every week.
Sir Alex Ferguson eh? What is he like? An unfit ref who ran further than seven of his own players! How funny was that? Maybe that explains far more why Sunderland tonked them for most of the game. Nice of Rio’s younger brother to help him out though wasn’t it? I swear Steve Bruce was so downcast his big flappy rubber face almost melted due to friction caused by the weight of tears alone.
“He couldn’t get up the pitch when the second goal was made, was scored. He was telling Wayne Rooney he needed a rest. Just not fit enough…” sounds to me like Dimitar Berbatov, Michael Owen, Rio Ferdinand or Gary Neville fit that description quite nicely.
Did you read what Liverpool’s owner George Gillett said about Benitez? How funny was that! Blaming Benitez for the clubs predicament and crap results recently! Honestly George, you’d think Benitez was the manager the way you go on! No wonder George has fecked off to Dubai to flog his half of the clubs shares to some daft, loaded Saudi prince. It seems the Yanks can do no right. Liverpool fans have no gratitude do they? Taking over a club £40-£60m in debt, farting about for two years, blaming everyone else left right and centre for the mess, breaking promise after promise and then, when someone else wants to buy, leaving it high and dry with a £250m debt, while you take home a nice fat profit for two years ruination. I thought you had to be a Prime Minister to do that kind of hatchet job.
And don’t get me started on the England game! Our proud nation is only to be shown on the internet! What a joke! A load of spotty geeks with no girlfriends and a porn obsession, are now the only ones who can watch our proud 11 Lions take on Ukraine? Then they want money off you to watch it too! Cheeky beggars! If I wanted to watch the English giving some Ukrainians a good stuffing, I know plenty of websites to watch that stuff for free! And it doesn’t last as long and it is a lot more satisfying too.
For me though, the funniest thing this week was hearing Barcelona want to buy Emmanuel Eboue. How does that work? That’s like having the Mona Lisa and then commissioning Rolf Harris to draw a moustache and another pair of tits on it.
Anyway, remember to tune in on Sky to watch Tranmere on Monday night. It’ll be funny. It’s going to be a mass John Barnes protest and the actual game, which is where we are losing to Stockport, will take a back seat for once. Things are so bad, it’s making me almost hope Steve McLaren was our manager.
Join me next week for more of the same, and if you think I am unfair and want to give me dogs abuse, feel free. That’s what football is about isn’t it? Opinion? If you have anything to get off your chest, do it here. It’s cathartic and keeps your blood pressure low so you don’t end up with a nose as red as Sir Alex. Just don’t be an internet warrior, cos in the end you look like a sad, narrow-minded, limp prat, just like me.
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