Liverpool’s star players on the very best ways to scrump, and the choicest apples to pick
The time is finally upon us. This weekend, the FA Council will make their decision on my not-entirely-unreasonable appeal to change the name of my football club from Hull City AFC to Hull Tigers.
There’s an old saying in football that all goalkeepers are crazy, and that’s certainly true for me, for I’m just crazy about battle reenactment
‘Only 0.27% of the workers will die. That’s hardly anything! Come on, it’s not exactly the Trail of Tears is it?’
’Twas upon the grounds of the Melbourne Cricket Grounds that I partook of the action, where I was told that I was witnessing a ‘grudge’ match between two local sides, the Hawthorn ‘Hawks’ and the ‘Magpies’ of Collingwood.
How I keep getting overlooked is beyond me. What does Manuel Pellegrini offer that I can’t? I won the Champions League with Rhyl.
For their effort, they were given a shiny ha’penny and a cup of Bovril to keep them warm on their long, cold nights dossing down in the doorways of the Broadway.
How else are we supposed to award tournaments to nations as unsuitable and morally questionable as Qatar? You tell me, what should we do?
I have been cursed with a terrible affliction, and it’s one that is threatening to completely envelop me and take over my life. I am sexually aroused by goalmouth scrambles.
I’m sorry it has come to this, Étienne. Sometimes you have to choose between what is right and what is easy, and God knows I wish you didn’t have to be this wrong. In a different reality, we could have been friends.