“A transfer record breaking striker, on track to break all scoring records” — A quote from a national radio newsreader after the cameo debut from Sergio Aguero. “The keeper’s had a disastrous start. There’s no excuse for that… such poor goalkeeping” — A quote from a brittle boned cockmaster who once injured himself sticking crayons up Jason McAteer’s anus. And those quotes encapsulate so much of what I have missed over the summer, the astounding over-hype directed at players who manage to run in a straight line without falling and the seemingly unstoppable unwarranted criticism directed at all things United.
Let’s not do the mercenary an injustice though; he came on while his team were in the ascendancy against a newly-promoted and rapidly-tiring Swansea. He managed to superbly bundle one goal in off his shin, an outstanding piece of athleticism and then he set up the distractingly feminine David Silva for a third, before completing the scoring himself with a long range effort that Paul Scholes would have scored with his slippers on. Impressive? Yes. The most awe-inspiring performance the world has ever seen? No. Interestingly his debut is being compared to that of Ravanelli, Deco and Mido, three Premier League heroes who went on to become all-time greats for their respective clubs. Three world renowned superstars who left Premier League defenders covered in puss and blood, spinning furiously in a cloud of disbelief. It is the exaggeration of his impact that has surprised me. We followed with interest the rise and fall of Joe Cole, Gareth Bale and Jack Wilshere last season, all of whom were dubbed “the best player in the world” at some point, but this appears to have eclipsed all of their hype combined. One media outlet had this to say: “Aguero has the pace of Usain Bolt, the dribbling ability of Garrincha, the control of Maradona, the goal scoring prowess of Romario, the presence of Zinedine Zidane and the most smashable back doors I have seen in years.”
And what of the sleeping bag-adorned Lizard Man over at the Emirates? He has endured a torturous summer with two of his pretty young men desperately trying to escape the youth hostel while he struggles to entice any new boys into the dorm. Fabregas has now gone in a hit-and-run, bolt out of the blue transfer that nobody saw coming. Like a flash of lightening those stealthy Barcelona boys stole Fabregas away in a whirlwind of romance and euros. This leaves little Sammy Nasri still trying to find the secret passage out of the Emirates while Pat Rice and Vic Akers watch the back doors (not Aguero’s I hasten to add). The former peg whittling gypsy has demanded to leave Arsenal because he wants to play football the right way and win trophies. If you type that sentence into Google Translate and select English to Pikey it will reveal the real message:
“I want to leave the Lizard Man and go to the Wastelands of Stockport, where they will pay me twelvty prillion pounds a week. I am worried that I may get taken by Mario and routinely fisted each night but that is a gamble I am willing to take. I will simply coat myself in gold and watch my former team mates on Channel 5 every Thursday night”.
So Arsenal is left with Spack Wilshere, Dobbin van Horsie, old Mrs Rosicky and Aarsehole Ramsey to fight their relegation battle this season. Lizard Man has delved into the transfer market, spending actual money to buy a novelty helium balloon. Someone on the market has conned the Lizard and has sold him one of those huge balloons that looks like it has dreadlocks and Arsene has managed to convince the kit man it is a real player. The bewildered chap hung up a kit with the name “Gervinho” on, only to see the balloon bounce awkwardly off Joey Barton, thus highlighting the referee that Arsenal had tricked him and forcing the Gooners to take it off the pitch.
And what of Joey Barton? The thug turned violent aggressor has spent the summer trying to convince tweeters that he is a bard in training, quoting all kinds of literary malarkey and claiming he has been reborn. He then tells us that Newcastle have had enough of his cuntwittery and given him a free transfer. They don’t have the cunningness of Barton though and he fooled the entire club by turning up to the game against Arsenal in disguise. Alan Pardew must have wondered why Adolf Hitler was sat in the dressing room, but he knows better than to question the genius of Mike Ashley and he sent his boys out to battle. Alex Song saw through the disguise though and gave the scouse pisswhistler a hefty stamping on, thus making himself the most popular Arsenal player the world has ever seen. Barton was still incensed when he noticed that Arsenal had sent a dreadlocked balloon on to the pitch; in his rage he grabbed the balloon and tried to bundle it off the pitch but with a gust of wind it bounced off him and Barton was felled. I would like to see anyone withstand such a tremendous blow to the head, and those that have said he went down too easily clearly are not familiar with the work of Fernando Torres, he would go down at the drop of a hat and that is why he is so keenly missed amongst the Liverpool youth team. Joseph escaped with the his pride intact and only a yellow card and he marshaled his team to a draw against the cavaliering Gooners. Later that night he fought various Twitter battles about his antics, the most ironic of which was against the deeply righteous Robert Savage. A now retired midfielder, Savage graced the Premier League with his frequent displays of petulance, cheating, unwarranted aggression and illegal ball control. If you can’t remember the name, he was the one that looked very much like a woman, but much uglier.
King Kenny, the saviour of Scouseland has spent the summer wading through horseshit. Having spent the national debt of Japan on Andy Carroll and the Cannibal of Amsterdam he seemed intent on refinancing half of the Premier League with his outrageous transfer activity, bringing in (and quite possibly bringing off) Stuart Downing, Charlie Adam and Jordan Henderson. The result was a wave of glee resonating from council tips all over Merseyside. Before we all get too excited and start etching the name Liverpool on the Premier League trophy let’s just have a look at these players in a little more depth. Stuart Downing shot to fame at Middlesbrough and then after a couple of seasons of mediocrity was picked for the England team. His achievement? Being able to kick the ball in a (near) straight line with his left foot. After a search that echoed the hunt for the Dalai Llama and involved lining up everyone in professional football and asking them to kick the ball into the goal from 11 yards with their left foot, he was chosen. He was then usurped by Adam Johnson in the Boro team and sold to Aston Villa for an industrial pack of Dairylea, 16 boxes of latex physio gloves and a signed photo of Ron Atkinson. A reasonable season attracted King Kenny and despite Villa asking for £14m he insisted on giving them £20m and replacing the Dairylea they had outlaid to Boro. Charlie Adam was not good enough to command a place in the Glasgow Rangers team. The same Glasgow Rangers team that play in the Scottish Premier League. The same team that lost a friendly last month to a wild flock of seagulls. He was not good enough to play in a league that is considered the same standard as Division 2 of the Isle of Anglesey Sunday League. He played well in spells for Blackpool and then Sir Alex Ferguson alerted the predatory Dalglish by saying, “His corners alone are worth £10m.” What Dalglish heard in mind was, “That big felluh is a geeniyus. Ahm gunna buy him fur United and hes gunna win us another title.” Kenny went straight to Blackpool, via Blackburn — sometimes it can be difficult when a standard lamp is giving you directions — and made them an offer they couldn’t refuse for the stout Scotsman. They couldn’t refuse it because they couldn’t understand it, but once they had managed to get a translator they were over the moon with the offer. Having been relegated they wanted to offload Adam and were formulating a plan that would allow them to leave him in the landfill skip at Blackpool council tip. They had been caught trying to leave him out with the recycling the week before and Ian Holloway had been forced to use the full reach of his tact and diplomacy to help the club escape a fine for fly-tipping. As for Henderson, he is an unproven player that may well go on to represent England regularly, or he might not turn out to be that bad. But is he worth £20m? If he is then when Darren Gibson finally leaves United it will be for a fee upwards of £117m and a helicopter.
