In a desperate ploy to live for a few more years on a footballer’s salary, Newcastle’s Michael Owen has got his PR cronies to stick out a brochure pimping his wares.
This kind of head-on approach to matters is much more suited to his teammate Joey Barton, who is never short of word or two to say about the state of the world.
So with no further ado, here is the Joey Barton brochure.
Gone are the days when a local double-glazing magnate could buy a football club and lead them to modest success. Nowadays chairmen have far grander designs and deeper pockets. Owning a football club is the ultimate display of narcissism. An ostentatious demonstration of wealth and perhaps the only way to get thousands of grown men to sing your name. Be that as it is, the role can attract an odd bunch. Let us salute football’s maddest chairmen.
Despite the fact that the domestic seasons have ended across Europe there has been no hold up in the number of stories going around, and the last few days has seen some interesting developments. Perhaps the story to make people sit up and take notice the most is the strong rumours that are emanating from Southampton FC. The club could really do with some sort of positive news, there relegation to League 1 in April and the ten point deduction that awaits them next season is a far cry from when Gordon Strachan managed the Saints to an FA Cup final just six years ago.
The information that has come out so far indicates that there is a strong likelihood that the club will be taken over today by the Pinnacle Group, which is fronted by former Southampton chairman Leon Crouch. The takeover is tantalising for the clubs fans as it promises the return of Matt Le Tissier in the capacity of chairman of the new board. On top of this there is an intriguing will he, won't he sub-plot that Kevin Keegan is also involved with the takeover.
Fernando Torres were forced to play in a Stetson hat?
There were a general election every time a new England manager were required?
Mick McCarthy got lost in a hall of mirrors?
With the end of the football season Britain’s alcohol intake is said to drop by 37%.*
This clear-headedness, combined with the extra free time that absence of football creates, means that fat 30-somethings from Rotherham to Rochdale, Coventry to Colchester and Nottingham to Newcastle…well, probably not Newcastle…are able to come up with all sorts of questions about their beloved game.
Alas the season is over and the barren terrain of a major tournament-less summer (the Mickey Mouse curtain raising Confederations Cup doesn’t count) lies before us. I can console myself with the combination of facts that firstly, England virtually guaranteed their place at the World Cup next year with a couple of decent performances (against very meagre opposition, but you can only kick sand in the face of the seven stone weakling put in front of you and both Kazakhstan & Andorra were duffed and dispatched with relative aplomb) and secondly, in lieu of fact number one, I have booked my accommodation in South Africa!
Yes, that is right; 90minutesonline will be ably represented at the World Cup by at least one of its degenerate writers and who better than its internationally trailblazing, ever pompous, continental swashbuckler, The Rome.