|
|
 |
| |
Flipping out over a bit of Chelsea flesh
ME and my old man were supporting different teams for the first time in nearly 30 years on Monday night.
I was in the ‘Anyone but Spurs’ camp, while he signed up to the ‘Anyone but Ashley’ faction.
I was the one smiling when Tottenham’s season came to an end on Monday – no, I don’t recognise the Wafer Cup, European football’s celebration of mediocrity, as being something serious to play for.
But didn’t Chelsea milk it?
The mug who ran on and aimed a haymaker at Lampard didn’t go out that night thinking: “Note to self: Get on the pitch and thump the fat one!”
No. He was wound up by the sight of Chelsea players, shaved sissy armpits and all, dancing around like they had won the double. They have never won the double.
If you pull someone’s tail enough, they are going to turn around at some stage and give you a wedgie.
In the last two years, Spurs fans have had to deal with their team losing to Grimsby, bungling their Champions League hopes on a plate of lasagne and losing to Arsenal lots of times, including a cup semi-final against our reserves. They also thought they had beaten Chelsea in the first match before choking on a 3-1 lead.
No wonder they flipped at the sight of fat Frank’s chest and Ashley Cole gurning.
GRAN had to have smelling salts after that Chelsea strip tease on Monday night. The poor love was so terrified Jose’s dream boys were about to whip off their shorts and tuck their wedding tackle between their legs she toppled out of her wheelchair.
Thankfully, the Chelski hunks’ celebrations were restricted to flashing off their lady shaved pecs and Gran was soon back to twirling her Spurs scarf around her head and yelling: “Where were you when you were s**t?” at the box.
Mind you, if those time wasting twits get that over-excited about winning a quarter-final, the entire nation might have to keep elderly relatives, under-12s and small animals away from the telly should they actually win the thing.
Ever heard of a little humility? You know, the kind of thing Paul Robinson displayed on Saturday after his 95-yard wonder goal made Ben Foster more embarrassed than David Seaman in World Cup 2002. Did you see Robbo peel his shirt off and rub his meaty man boobs in Benny boy’s big red face? No.
Did he even bother texting Richard Osley afterwards to tell him where he could shove his England petition? No. (I did that for him).
No, no and no. Robbo didn’t do any of the above because he possesses the one thing money can’t buy. Respect.
|
| |
 |
|
|
|
