Post by 1hughjaynus on Apr 28, 2010 13:40:39 GMT
The recent "Poor old Grimsby" post reminded me of a similar rant on the Sheffield United message board some time ago, or it could have been Sheffield Wednesday. Here it is:
Old Footballers
Footballers today are a bunch of spoilt poufs with their heads up their arses and it makes me bloo*y sick. What’s the matter with them; they truly have turned a man’s game into a game for fairies. It doesn’t help with some of the names they are called. Why can’t people call their boys proper names these days. Real mens names like Harry, Bert, Sid, Eric, Archie, Vic etc etc. The names that are about today make ‘em all sound like a load pansies, I mean who in their right mind would call their boy Chesney, Wayne, or Jodey, F********* woofters or what.
And what’s all this falling over like a sack of spuds every time someone so much as brushes your shirt, f*ck me, it’s a load of old twit. Drogbas one of the worst, what a c*nt, I mean he’s a big lump but he goes down like he’s been shot with an air rifle if someone sneezes on him. Bring back old football I say, when footballers stayed on their feet even if you hit ‘em with an iron bar. And the injuries today, my life, why don’t they wrap ‘em up in cotton wool for f*ck sake.
Footballers spend 3 months on the physios table for a broken toenail these days, f*cking big fairies. In the 1920’s Archie McShit of Port Vale got run over by a horse and cart on a Friday night, broke two ankles and an arm, but he still turned out for the Vale the next day and scored a f*cking hat trick. And what’s with these broken Metatarsals that everyone keeps getting these days, it’s cos the boots of today are made like f*cking carpet slipper’s. In Archies day they were like lumps of cement, and the shirts were real shirts, thick and heavy, not like these pansy shirts today that are light as a feather and have poncy perforations in them so that little Joey’s chest can breath - F*CK OFF!!!!
And don’t even get me started on the ball. Jesus Christ I kicked my son’s football the other day and it’s like a blo*dy party balloon. F*cking vinyl lining to keep it waterproof, half a f*cking stone lighter than it was last year. Not like in my day when it soaked up water and weighed a ton when it was wet, and when you headed it you got a f*cking big lacemark on yer forhead. Christ, if little Stephen Ireland or that poof Lampard headed one of those footballs they’d be out for the rest of the season with a dislocated f*cking eyebrow.
And who’s the c*nt who started bringing babies onto the pitch? F*ck me Stamford Bridge was like a f*cking crèche the other year when they won the league. All the players bringing their chubby kids out to have poncy photos taken with the cup. Can you imagine Norman Hunter or Chopper Harris changing a nappy at full time ready for a cutey photo?, B*llocks.
It was probably the same twit who started wearing gloves. What the f*ck…… I watched Arsenal last May and the temperature dropped just below 60 degrees so 9 of the f*cking ponces were wearing gloves. I said to my son, I reckon they’re wearing gloves to protect their manicured f*cking nails cos it’s not f*cking cold. Or it may have been the t*sser who started wearing f*cking Alice bands on his head to keep his poncy lacquered hair out of his eyes, f*ck me… Tommy Smith would rather have worn a f*cking Everton shirt than be seen wearing hair accessories like David Ginola, and what a c*nt he is, poncing around in Loreal adverts promoting hair spray because he’s “worth it”…f*cking twit. The only fashion statement Joe Jordan used to make was to flash his missing teeth to opposing defenders!!!
And the WAGS, f*cking high class spoilt Wh*res if you ask me. Keep them well away from football like the old days. Archie McShit used to get home from a game on a Saturday afternoon and beat the old sow up for an hour if she didn’t have his dinner on the table on time.
I'll get me coat.
Old Footballers
Footballers today are a bunch of spoilt poufs with their heads up their arses and it makes me bloo*y sick. What’s the matter with them; they truly have turned a man’s game into a game for fairies. It doesn’t help with some of the names they are called. Why can’t people call their boys proper names these days. Real mens names like Harry, Bert, Sid, Eric, Archie, Vic etc etc. The names that are about today make ‘em all sound like a load pansies, I mean who in their right mind would call their boy Chesney, Wayne, or Jodey, F********* woofters or what.
And what’s all this falling over like a sack of spuds every time someone so much as brushes your shirt, f*ck me, it’s a load of old twit. Drogbas one of the worst, what a c*nt, I mean he’s a big lump but he goes down like he’s been shot with an air rifle if someone sneezes on him. Bring back old football I say, when footballers stayed on their feet even if you hit ‘em with an iron bar. And the injuries today, my life, why don’t they wrap ‘em up in cotton wool for f*ck sake.
Footballers spend 3 months on the physios table for a broken toenail these days, f*cking big fairies. In the 1920’s Archie McShit of Port Vale got run over by a horse and cart on a Friday night, broke two ankles and an arm, but he still turned out for the Vale the next day and scored a f*cking hat trick. And what’s with these broken Metatarsals that everyone keeps getting these days, it’s cos the boots of today are made like f*cking carpet slipper’s. In Archies day they were like lumps of cement, and the shirts were real shirts, thick and heavy, not like these pansy shirts today that are light as a feather and have poncy perforations in them so that little Joey’s chest can breath - F*CK OFF!!!!
And don’t even get me started on the ball. Jesus Christ I kicked my son’s football the other day and it’s like a blo*dy party balloon. F*cking vinyl lining to keep it waterproof, half a f*cking stone lighter than it was last year. Not like in my day when it soaked up water and weighed a ton when it was wet, and when you headed it you got a f*cking big lacemark on yer forhead. Christ, if little Stephen Ireland or that poof Lampard headed one of those footballs they’d be out for the rest of the season with a dislocated f*cking eyebrow.
And who’s the c*nt who started bringing babies onto the pitch? F*ck me Stamford Bridge was like a f*cking crèche the other year when they won the league. All the players bringing their chubby kids out to have poncy photos taken with the cup. Can you imagine Norman Hunter or Chopper Harris changing a nappy at full time ready for a cutey photo?, B*llocks.
It was probably the same twit who started wearing gloves. What the f*ck…… I watched Arsenal last May and the temperature dropped just below 60 degrees so 9 of the f*cking ponces were wearing gloves. I said to my son, I reckon they’re wearing gloves to protect their manicured f*cking nails cos it’s not f*cking cold. Or it may have been the t*sser who started wearing f*cking Alice bands on his head to keep his poncy lacquered hair out of his eyes, f*ck me… Tommy Smith would rather have worn a f*cking Everton shirt than be seen wearing hair accessories like David Ginola, and what a c*nt he is, poncing around in Loreal adverts promoting hair spray because he’s “worth it”…f*cking twit. The only fashion statement Joe Jordan used to make was to flash his missing teeth to opposing defenders!!!
And the WAGS, f*cking high class spoilt Wh*res if you ask me. Keep them well away from football like the old days. Archie McShit used to get home from a game on a Saturday afternoon and beat the old sow up for an hour if she didn’t have his dinner on the table on time.
I'll get me coat.