We realised that leaving Yoann Gourcuff out of the sixth iteration of our F5 list (due out Monday!) would cause some fallout, but we weren’t sure how large of a seismic disturbance would disrupt our beauty sleep months after the initial blast. Nor were we prepared to find out.
We, like a good majority of you here, like staring at Mr G. and are not willing to tolerate anything less than total all-out representation on this site. And what’s a better early quarter century birthday gift than an unrestricted pass to the Kickette Hot Hall of Fame?
Hopefully it’s a gift he’s been waiting one, one that doesn’t prevent him from taking his shirt off at every moment possible.
Image Credit: PR fotografije. Thnx, R!
‘Tis the season to be on holiday if you are a ‘baller, and it’s good to see that Tottenham’s Vedran Ćorluka, Manchester City’s Mario Balotelli (sitting with Raffaella Fico; more on her in a minute) and Lyon’s Dejan Lovren aren’t letting the side down.
During the last weekend in June, these three footballers were the only brave souls to show their faces at the opening party of Croatian island club, Papaya. To break it down for you, the club – and the beach it resides on, Zrće – is sorta like a place one would visit for the sole purpose of drunkenly stumbling into a sticky-icky situation. If the world’s holiday destinations were one big dysfunctional family, it would be Ibiza’s distant cousin through marriage. We’re talking Skank City- by-the-Sea meets the wardrobe stylists from the movie The Hangover while four-straw sippin’ on a Bloody Mary at half past 5.
Not that any of those things are bad. It’s just not our kinda bin full of Gin. Especially when pricey people with questionable morals, like Miss Fico for example, are considered reputable enough to sit and make out in the VIP section. Girl, if you know what’s good for you, learn how to go away gracefully. Take copious notes of other WAGabees’ mistakes, or soon it’ll be too late for Balotelli to save your round rear.
Images: Google, FFF.fr.
We were hoping to present our written case to you today on Adil Rami’s behalf, but words have a funny way of evading us when we least expect it. Therefore, this will be a quickie (in our dreams).
Sticking to the absolute need-to-know details, this 25-year-old Frenchie from Moroccan descent stands at a massively tall 6’3. Furthermore, his tongue has a life of its own and his mascot suit comes in a close second only to those of Arsenal’s adorkables. Humour and hotness all rolled into one buff and brawny Frenchman? It sounds too good to be true, don’t it?
If you’re going to take off your boots and shirt, it’s hardly a stretch to whip off your shorts, is it? Images: Getty Images/Zimbio.
If we appear a little shaky this morning, please forgive. The end of the season for most means no more results, no more debating crap rules about shirt removal and hardly any on pitch idiocy to laugh at. It’s tough, but not terminal.
For us? Well, we’re getting the Ouija board out of the broom cupboard to beg the spectre of creativity to join our editorial meetings. We have to actually use our imaginations to come up with interesting, thought provoking posts to get you through these lean times.
The fear is all pervading.
A confusing weekend for the Manchester newspapers, who, for the first time in some thirty-five years, had a bit of a conflict as to which club’s achievements they should be featuring on their front page. We particularly enjoyed the Manchester Evening News, which evaded the problem completely by sticking the Great Manchester Run on the front of their esteemed organ, and dealing with other relevant matters elsewhere.
In lieu of the fact that we don’t have an esteemed organ, we simply avoided dealing with it by leading with this picture of Mario Gomez, who is seen here receiving an award on behalf of team-mate Thomas Muller, presumably for his esteemed organ.
Sorry. Crude but totally necessary.