THIS IS EXTRA TIME

So it’s been about seven billion years since all you perverted lovelies were blessed (i.e. tortured) with the first part of my overtly biased, not at all shameful and highly peachy opening “chapter”, if you will (and if you won’t… well then, sod off), to the 2008, glaringly Arsenal-leaning, season review. Since then, we as a species have evolved an extra pair of buttocks, men have been compacted into handbag size (groping on the go: I must copyright this revolutionary idea of mine!), and a select few of us Gifted and Talented and just Randomly Special have been preserved in a fluid once known to (wo)man as “Bum Polish”. My commiserations to those who didn’t make the cut; to all those who did and are still here, give yourselves a good pat on the bum. If you are Cesc Fabregas, allow me to do this for you.

I understand it’s been awhile since I droned on about buttocks (well, technically, it’s been about five seconds), but try to cast your mind back as far as May 2008, and all the events which preceded it in the season where Arsenal went from being five points clear at the top of the table, to trailing by about a gazillion points – all within the space of a month. Yes, the one where everyone bowed at Ronaldo’s feet and those cheeky bloody devils lifted the cup. Two cups, in fact. Remember it well? Of course you do: that’s why you’re crying. Whoops.

I have gone to the trouble, simply to amuse you devastated souls, of creating two shortlists: The Heroes and The Zeros. It’s up to you to decide which sorry buggers walk away with the two shiny awards, and up to me to “forget” to dish out the medals. Sorry. I just can’t be arsed.

The Heroes

Gael Clichy

Only good ole Gael can get away with gifting a team like Birmingham a penalty in the final minute of one of the ugliest games of disgusting misfortune ever to have graced a football pitch (a game which, we later learned, caused his team’s downward spiral into a pit of utter depression-inducing faeces), and still be eligible to win the award for 2008 Hero. Well of course, he’s Gael Clichy. Worship the boy, damn it!

Fernando Torres

Aside from sporting a hairstyle not too dissimilar from a mop this season, we can’t really fault the guy. Twenty-four league goals, if my memory doesn’t deceive me, which it often does (*waves fist menacingly at exam papers*), and twenty-four man huggles. Who’s betting Stevie G. went for a little squeeze on the odd occasion?

C’mon, this boy’s got class. Okay, so his hair might not too well reflect it, but I think he’s just about the only player ever to play against Manchester United with a load of spaghetti hanging over his face, and to not have Wayne Rooney clambering all over him, trying to suck up a few strands, Lady and the Tramp style. Can you imagine Rooney and Ronaldo sharing a romantic moment over Sagna’s hair? Oh dear. I just did, and it wasn’t a happy thought. I do love his hair, though. I hope he never changes it. Neverrrr! I approve of the shirtlessness, too.

Cristiano Ronaldo

I may personally want to feed this man a diet of staples, but I also personally don’t want to get chased down the street by a mob of angry footettes (is that a word? Well, it is now – even if it is a weird one) for omitting Mr Thigh Flesh from the shortlist. Fine, I relent: You could wash your laundry on his chest. You know, if he weren’t so sweaty from all the running. Could we have found our new Golden Balls? Well, I think that’s exactly what Ron’s trying to investigate right here.

Others who were close to making the cut were: Emmanuel “shoots bullets out of his mouth” Adebayor, Avram “I can be kooky, too!” Grant, Eduardo “Man of Steel” da Silva, and Theo “Mummy, where’s my teddy go?” Walcott.

The Zeros

Mathieu Flamoney

Yes, he is a Zero! That might not be what his bank balance now reads, but it’s what his squad number for France will read from now on. *Cackles hysterically until crazy Gooner chokes on her own throat and dies.* But okay, so he was still pretty fantastic.

We all knew the buy was stupid after Henry sold for the same amount, but may I please just point and laugh at the £16.5 million price-tag just a little while longer? But at least he’s having fun with Robbie “never misses a penalty” Keane.

Once again, Arsenal fans continue to “not hate him (how could I hate one of our own players? *Offended expression.*), but he does moan a lot”. Poor Eboue. *Pets him… on the bum-bum.*


It’s been a tough year for Joey, who’s spent more time in his court suit than in his Newcastle kit. Oh, and all that time on those crutches (who wants to bet he used them to trip old grannies in the street?). Good buy, Fat Sam – good buy. Not that he cares anymore.

Others who were close to making the cut were: Fat “I am fat” Sam, Robin “Ow, I just got my toenail caught in the lawnmower and will thus be out for the rest of the decade!” van Persie, Thierry “I need to win the Champions League NOW!” Henry, and Nicholas “mmmm yummmm mmmm mmmmmoney” Anelka. Put your tongue back in, boy!

So get your thinking hats on. They’ve dressed up smartly for this award ceremony. And by “smartly”, I do of course mean “nakedly”. It’s the only way.

Labels: marnie waffles, season review