Keane’s New Boyhood Dream
Just a quick one, folks. I come to you from the confines of a ramshackle old Nissan stationed in a council office car-park. I pay my taxes, so I’m helping myself to a perilously unprotected bit of internet juice. I feel like Jeff Goldblum in Independence Day; hacking into the White House’s mainframe with a bizarre looking space-age dongle. It’s just like the movies, I tell thee…
Just remember the signal if you see any law-types.
To the papers.
The Mirror’s vaguely titled ‘Football Spy’ speaks word of development in the Simon Kjaer saga- if you can call a story I’ve just heard of a saga. ‘Arry, it is said, is closing in on the Palmero defender with what can only be assumed ‘some intent.’ Eleven million is the quoted price, with a dubious 100k-per-week (!) requested from the agent’s player’s end. Questionable, perhaps- particularly as it would make the twenty year old our highest earner by some stretch- but you surely can’t argue with a paper that stamps ‘Deal’ in big yellow letters over the headline, can you? Rest assured, if the Football Spy’s on it, you may as well take your shirts to the printers. Just make sure you get the spelling right. You wouldn’t want to look like an idiort.
Elsewhere, The Times have suitably put the idea of Robbie Keane going to West Ham in their ‘long shots’ pile. It sits there along side Eusebio to Fulham and Jedward for a buy-one-get-one free knighthood. Suffice as to say I don’t envisage it happening anytime soon. Then again, stranger things have happened. Maybe Spam was his boyhood club all along.
Right, I better move this hunk of metal. I’m certain I saw the rustling of net curtains.
Feel free to submit your bull-faeces ratings of these yarns in the space below.
Have a lovely day.