Johnny Footballer: I'm That F*cking Good.
THE AUTOBIGRAPHY. SERIALISED. ONLY ON MR BLOGGY
I came from humble beginnings. Of course I did. I'm a fucking footballer. Middle class footballers are gay. My dad played part-time football for the Matchstick Girls second XI. He was top-scorer for five straight seasons, until they noticed he was a man, and had got my mum pregnant. That never-say-die, sod-the-rules, wear-a-dress, attitude has stuck with me all my life. It also inspired my pony-tail season in 97/98, which famously got tangled in Darren Peacock's hair when the match had to be abandoned for health and safety reasons. After the game Kevin Keegan told Richard Keys it was abandoned for 'Hair and Safety' reasons. I almost pissed myself. I know that on camera it looked like I tried to headbutt Keegan in the tunnel, but I was just trying to separate myself from Darren. Darren and I are still friends today. We've got to be, we spent four months stuck to each other while doctors tried to remove the hair. It now sits in the trophy cabinet of Newcastle United. Well, what the fuck else can they put in there!
Back to my childhood, my mum gave birth to me at a bus stop in Canning Town, with help of a local rastifarian. On exiting her womb, I kicked the rastifarian in the willy and stuck my tongue out. A passing local remarked that the way I kicked the ball, I could play for West Ham one day. My mum said that the way I kicked the black man, I could play for Millwall. Of course, I played for neither, and signed schoolboy forms for Leeds United at my eigth birthday party in McDonalds. And as you know, the love of McDonalds, has stuck with me all my life. It's good quality, nutritious and cheap food. Good for people of all ages. And current sponsors of my 'Kick Football, Eat Shit' academy in Thailand.
The commute to Leeds domiated my life until I moved into digs on my sixteenth birthday. It meant I only went to school twice a year, on mufty days. I would wear my Leeds kit with pride on those days and be taunted by children who heard of my dad's disgraceful sacking from the Matchstick Girls Second XI, but I didn't care. I had studs and attitude. And not the Old Compton Street studs and attitude.
I don't regret not going to school often. It was never for me, and I preferred the commutes and sleepovers involved in travelling to Leeds. Graham Rix used to make sure that I was happy, and always gave me somewhere to stay, even though he was with Chelsea. He really took an interest in my progress, and helped me prepare for future marketing needs and photo shoots. Of course, because I was too young to be sponsored, I had to practice without the clothes, but once the sponsors came, I was able to pose like a pro.
TOMORROW- JOHNNY FOOTBALLER'S DEBUT AND SUBSEQUENT 8-MONTH SUSPENSION: "HE WAS FUCKING ASKING FOR IT!"
I came from humble beginnings. Of course I did. I'm a fucking footballer. Middle class footballers are gay. My dad played part-time football for the Matchstick Girls second XI. He was top-scorer for five straight seasons, until they noticed he was a man, and had got my mum pregnant. That never-say-die, sod-the-rules, wear-a-dress, attitude has stuck with me all my life. It also inspired my pony-tail season in 97/98, which famously got tangled in Darren Peacock's hair when the match had to be abandoned for health and safety reasons. After the game Kevin Keegan told Richard Keys it was abandoned for 'Hair and Safety' reasons. I almost pissed myself. I know that on camera it looked like I tried to headbutt Keegan in the tunnel, but I was just trying to separate myself from Darren. Darren and I are still friends today. We've got to be, we spent four months stuck to each other while doctors tried to remove the hair. It now sits in the trophy cabinet of Newcastle United. Well, what the fuck else can they put in there!
Back to my childhood, my mum gave birth to me at a bus stop in Canning Town, with help of a local rastifarian. On exiting her womb, I kicked the rastifarian in the willy and stuck my tongue out. A passing local remarked that the way I kicked the ball, I could play for West Ham one day. My mum said that the way I kicked the black man, I could play for Millwall. Of course, I played for neither, and signed schoolboy forms for Leeds United at my eigth birthday party in McDonalds. And as you know, the love of McDonalds, has stuck with me all my life. It's good quality, nutritious and cheap food. Good for people of all ages. And current sponsors of my 'Kick Football, Eat Shit' academy in Thailand.
The commute to Leeds domiated my life until I moved into digs on my sixteenth birthday. It meant I only went to school twice a year, on mufty days. I would wear my Leeds kit with pride on those days and be taunted by children who heard of my dad's disgraceful sacking from the Matchstick Girls Second XI, but I didn't care. I had studs and attitude. And not the Old Compton Street studs and attitude.
I don't regret not going to school often. It was never for me, and I preferred the commutes and sleepovers involved in travelling to Leeds. Graham Rix used to make sure that I was happy, and always gave me somewhere to stay, even though he was with Chelsea. He really took an interest in my progress, and helped me prepare for future marketing needs and photo shoots. Of course, because I was too young to be sponsored, I had to practice without the clothes, but once the sponsors came, I was able to pose like a pro.
TOMORROW- JOHNNY FOOTBALLER'S DEBUT AND SUBSEQUENT 8-MONTH SUSPENSION: "HE WAS FUCKING ASKING FOR IT!"
posted by Steve Harmison | 6:03 AM
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