Like an excellent doctor with a great bedside manner, The Spoiler spotted that Tottenham might be going through some food-based issues about a week or so ago. In an understated fashion, we suggested that by starving his players, Ramos mightn’t be ensuring top notch performances. And then, just this weekend, The Sun barged into the room like a fat man lugging the head of Osama Bin Laden, and declared that Ramos needs to think about feeding his players because THEY ARE STARVING.
Of course, they’ll get all the back-slaps, the prizes, the women, while The Spoiler continues to toil away in silence, never once poking a head above the grindstone to demand recognition for a fantastic piece of work. Not even once.
Say “OMG, those are TO DIE FOR” to some fashionable men…
With the breeze picking up and Jack Frost emerging from his angry nightmares to reak havoc on car windscreens, it’s time for the Premier League’s finest to delve into their autumn/winter collection, with Aaron Lennon and Berbsie kicking off this season’s on-pitch fashion parade with aplomb.
Little Aaron, most famous for spending a few minutes each morning studiously shaving mathematical lines into his eyebrows for no reason, lit the fuse on “glove season”. As the rest of his team collapsed in a quivering heap against Stoke, their hands naked and unloved, Aaron could at least dab their tears away with a plump warm thumb after the match. He went for the classic black woolly glove - formerly the calling card of the Milk Tray man.
Remember July? It was a few months back, the world was a bright, sunny place (for an hour and eight minutes) and all the talk was of the dawning of another glorious Spurs era. We stared in awe as images of their macho beach training programme came thundering through our office letterbox. It looked so modern, this technique, and we even joked at the time about how their vigorous workout involved “beach frolicking, diving into waves, waxing, bumping chests, cocktails, and disco dancing” - this was before the days of political correctness, you understand.
But, honestly, who’s laughing now? No one. Managers, put this on the record - pre-season training is a serious business. You wouldn’t catch Fergie and his guys prancing joyously through fields, or Scolari taking Lampsie, JT and Drog-Drog to a bouncy castle. Or Benitez watching Kuyt and Agger playing skateboards etc…
Being that we’ve all been raised to perform to a middling level of mediocrity and then never blow our own trumpets afterwards, Jose Mourinho seemed so dangerous and tell-it-like-it-is when he turned up in 2004. There isn’t an Englishman alive who could match him for mixing results with bravado - except probably Bergerac.
Unfortunately, on the football pitch, he created a team so mundane that watching Chelsea was the football equivalent of witnessing a big boring robot mindlessly pulverising an infant in a maths competition. Dull, dull, dull.
But now Chelsea are brilliant. So do we really want the boring one back in the Premier League? Let us know with a vote.
Victoria Beckham by Kath McPherson, Cole by Samuel.
Oh hello, Rio Ferdinand, welcome to the WAG Circus. Is this what you wanted? Is it?
Thanks today to Samuel, Kath McPherson and Luis Victor Garcia for their thrilling contributions to the growing gallery of clowns. To become part of the fun, email your masterpieces here.
In the biblical tale of the Prodigal Son, a young man ventures to the big city to fill up on wine and hookers before going home to lead a normal domestic life as an accountant, or something. In some ways, it’s exactly the same tale as that of Shaun Wright-Phillips and Manchester City, only without the fatted calf, the hookers, the wine… the bible. But no matter.
This, along with Heskey’s suspected return to Liverpool, got The Spoiler to thinking, and by the time we’d polished off our lunchtime amuse bouche followed by soup, we’d pretty much compiled a team made up of returning players. All with varying degrees of success.
In goal, we went for everyone’s favourite drug-eating maniac, Mark Bosnich.
Everyone knows how brilliant Messi is, but it turns out that even as a small baby toddler he was amazing too. Above is a video of him destroying the opposition whilst casually sporting some kind of peasant tunic. In a fantastic twist of fashion, he makes it look quite cool, much in the same way that he carries the name Lionel - usually reserved for blabbering geriatrics - and somehow makes it sound like a young man’s name. Even though it isn’t.
As mentioned yesterday afternoon, The Spoiler has developed a worrying fascination with turning WAGs into clowns, as, it appears, have some of you. Thanks to Rob Field, Jack Hill and Sarah Haswell for today’s gallery of clowns. Keep sending your pictures here, friends.
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