Having dealt with a few footballers
Some are nice enough, others have the social interaction skills of a potted plant.

And some are, indeed, thicker than a whale sandwich.

Bit of a laff when they pass 30 and their knees go and they can do absolutely nothing but play with a ball. Shame.

However (and this is a personal message to my soon-to-be former 'colleagues'), I am glad that you passionately support your local team. I am happy that you take your family to watch people running around what is essentially a well manicured field on a Saturday. I am delighted for you that you got a gut-full of Stella on Saturday night and stamped on someone's head who dared to disagree with your choice of team.

I just don't want to hear about it EVERY SODDING DAY. No more shouts across the showroom of whichever terrace slogan is today's favourite. No more endless debates about a signing, a manager, whatever. Just shut the bastard fuck up. Another thing that I won't miss when I get the bin-liner of doom.

I quite enjoy watching a match, I just have other interests, and think that Premiership Footballers in particular should be horsewhipped in public, if only for their ties.

And, to repeat myself somewhat (us old 'uns are allowed to do that), they are NOT 'Heroes'.

They are moderately talented athletes, who are earning a cushy living doing about two days work a week, tend to have orange female companions, and ludicrous amounts of cash. Heroes my arse.
(osok Rebel without a clue, Wed 7 May 2008, 10:37, Reply)