Terry's all told

He never did get over missing that penalty in Moscow.

Hat tip to a poster on Urban 75.

Whatever happened to the Blues Brothers?

No triumphalist parades in SW6 and G51 for another season, and the super-rich and their flunkies can rest easy that Monaco won't be littered this coming August with empty buckfast bottles (made by monks), discarded union jack boxer shorts (Made in China) and renditions of not so popular folk classics (made up on the Shankhill Road).

What with it being Chelski, R*ngers and 21st century professional football - with its gaudy commercialism and fast buck mentality - the marketing peeps in the Blue Zone have went with the short term view that though not every trophy cabinet can have silverware, every cloud should have a silver lining and, with that in mind, have already rush released the 2007/2008 season's commemorative mementos represented below.

Depending on which side of the blue bed you get out of every afternoon, you can go for the Dave Weir figurine represented on the left or the Frank Lampard special that is slouching on the right.

The figurines are made out of the shoddiest materials to properly represent the personalities of your modern day footballer, and they are tastefully dressed in funereal black to mark another season of abject footballing failure. As is fitting for a season that has gone up in flames so spectacularly, the clothing that Mini-Dave and Fat-Frank are sporting is made out of 100% polyester because it was felt that that was the most flammable of man-made materials.

The jackets have been fitted with long sleeves to hide the questionable tattoos and, with summer approaching, both players have specially bolted on sunglasses to both hide their deadened eyes and to help them avoid the blinding glare of a world where the sun is permanently shining.

As an added touch, ugly scowls have been scarred onto both players' faces and you'll be pleased to note the manufacturers, with an acute eye to authenticity, have specially moulded their wee plastic hands into angry balled up fists.

The manufacturers want R*ngers and Chelski collectors to be rest assured that there are plans for other players to be featured in the series but the design department are currently experiencing teething difficulties with the John Terry figurine: they can't get it to remain upright in the box.

Just In: Chelsea's new sponsors for the 2008/09 Season

As recommended by John "Man's Man" Terry:

"In a season where I've played a central part in my club failing in the Community Shield, the Carling Cup, the League and the Champions League at the final hurdle - and where I also contributed to England losing out on qualifying for the European Championship - I find from frequent use that the 3 ply Kleenex Extra Large White Tissues is my sob rag of choice.

I know now to never leave the dressing room without first stuffing a box down the front of my shorts. I just wish I'd had two boxes for last night in Moscow."

Hat tip to the John Terry Fan Club for the pic. Britain's fastest growing fan club. Special membership rates for people signing up in the SW7 area.

'eFAin Travesty

I think they just make this shit up as they go along; just so I can hate Chelski all the more.

In the space of a week, Middlesbrough's Aliadiere gets an extra game slapped onto his existing three game ban, whilst Lampard gets a chocolate biscuit from the FA for a worse example of on-pitch petulance.

Come on Olympiakos. Turn those bastards over. I won't even mind if Hutton Torosidis scores the winner.

That'll Do

The worst haircut in football outside of the Argentinian Primera División wins the cup for Spurs.

First time since 2004 that a team outside of the 'Big Four' have won a domestic trophy.

The Gasheads for the FA Cup.

Love Comes In Spurs

Come on Tottenham, turn over those wankers from West London.

I won't even mind if Hutton scores the winner.

Even Andy Johnson Scored

Following on from this post on the blog a few days back, Roy Keane hopes that Michael Ballack doesn't explain to John Terry and Frank Lampard that schadenfreude is not the name of German beer, whilst Craig Gordon has a lie down and thinks back to the glory days of Tynecastle.

Meano . . . Meano

Roy Keane get's in the mix.

As much I enjoy the spectacle of Roy Keane pulling on his old football boots so he can metaphorically scrape his studs down the shins of today's overpaid blowhards, I don't think he gets it: as wonderful as international football can be (see here. here and here), club football is where it's at for the average footie fan.

Ask them what they would rather get to see in their lifetime: their team winning the league title or their place of birth winning the world cup, and 93/100 will go for the former every time.