Why do we do what we do here at Kickette? Why do we hide in broom closets during lunch breaks, tapping away on our Blackberries to bring you the latest short tent before our bosses catch us? Why do we spend our last few quid on buying photos of footballers carrying manbags and murses and other leather goods instead of using it to buy a low-carb ready meal?
This is why:
If we were this close to David Villa, we like to think we would maintain an image of calm serenity whilst looking hot as hell and surreptitiously passing him our contact deets.
However. We suspect that our true response would be rather more like that of our friends at Hola Valencia. They’re just honest enough to admit it. Dammit.
Speaking of getting close to players, we have to say we rather like the new scheme Kansas Wizards have implemented to ensure their players and staff get to know each other intimately.
In the hope it catches on, we have submitted our applications and hope to be hearing from the Real Madrid ground staff department in due course.
Prior to Chelsea’s Stamford Bridge clash with Inter this evening, Jose Mourinho has maintained a characteristic silence. Yeah, right. The man is a master at the veiled insult. We’re so in his thrall.
Slightly less subtle in his methods is Valladolid’s Cesar Arzo. We know Guti is capable of some quite spectacular fashion offences, but this is hardly warranted, now is it?
Sartorial choices weren’t high on the agenda at Theo Walcott’s birthday party either, although we are not aware of any similar grabbings. We won’t critique, it’s just too easy. Suffice to say, if you’re going to wear those trousers, Gareth Bale, please ensure you’re standing at a safe distance when Theo blows out his candles.
However. Things used to be worse. A great deal worse. We advise that you do not, under any circumstances, click on the Gazza clip. Just don’t.
Bad week for Phil Brown, formerly of Hull City. We get the impression that the guys at WAATP are not saddened by this development. You?
And really, really bad week for us. We’ve just got over the whole Iker/Carbonero are they/aren’t they thing and now this happens. Emotional outlook: overwrought.
And finally, props to Ciacha.net who have very kindly supplied some pictures of Gonzalo Higuain in various states of undress (just to cheer us up). Please enjoy and remember: We are Kickette and we do it. So you don’t have to.
What is it about guys serenading their sweetheart with guitar strings? In Tomas Rosicky’s case, it’s truly amazing what this instrument can do for a man.
Actually, who are we kidding? He looks like the poor man’s version of Keith Urban’s half-brother’s step-child.
On the flip side, we wouldn’t turn Mario Gomez away if he tried to sing us sweet nothings while we slept. If Tomas is the surrogate sibling no one ever knew existed, then Mario is the rich man’s version of … well, a rich man playing a guitar. And we bet he plays a kick-ass version of Joan Jhett’s “I love Rock and Roll”.
Let’s talk footy and fuchsia, shall we?
We approve of Everton’s funky pink and black striped kits, if only because they seemed to have had a thigh-inducing effect on the team Saturday. And we’d definitely be remiss if we didn’t properly thank the Italian National Team for providing us gratiuitous shots of Fabio Cannavaro in a pink practice ensemble.
But pink on the breast plate is just that: pink on the breast plate. If real men wear pink, then what do we call jumping, head-banded men in matching pink shirts and socks?
Let’s consider a few footy moments in rose before we seek your opinion.
Gaaargh. How do we even begin to describe how the news from Milan of David Beckham’s Achilles injury has left us feeling? Curtains are drawn, two (okay, three) tubs of Ben and Jerry’s have been devoured, and Kleenex supplies are in desperate need of a refill. Teary and sleepless, we spent the night wishing for a fairy godmother to wave her wand and bring Becks to the ball South Africa.
We all know football can be a cruel game, but when it shatters the dreams of an Armani-modeling, free-kicking legend we have some serious issues with it. And we know how it feels to have our dreams torn up and thrown in our face; we still haven’t recovered from seeing Fabio Cannavaro make an honest woman out of Daniela.