UNSAVOURY
COMPARISONS
Vinnie Jones is to
fair football what
Count Dracula was
to blood transfusions.
If you can imagine spending five
years with an overgrown child
clambering about in your attic
then you’ll have a fair idea of the
impact Graeme Souness has
made on Scottish football.
Steve Staunton’s honeymoon
as manager of Ireland lasted
about as long as one of
Britney Spears’ marriages.
Kenny Dalglish was quiet in the
Liverpool team talks until the
players started talking about
conditions. Then he came on like
a Govan shipyard shop steward.
If you’re a sports channel
that doesn’t have football,
you’re effectively shovelling
water with a sieve.
Listening to a modem starting up
for ten minutes through a loud
hailer would be soothing compared
to having to endure one of Steve
Staunton’s press conferences.
People have been known to get
tinnitus of the eyes from reading
his newspaper interviews.
What is it that Rangers,
Celtic and a three-pin plug
have in common? They’re all
completely useless in Europe.
Trevor Ford used to collect
bookings like autographs.
Comparing Gascoigne to
Pelé is like comparing Rolf
Harris to Rembrandt.
Duncan MacKenzie is
like a beautiful motor car
– six owners, but he’s been in
the garage most of the time.
Michael Owen used to be the baby-
faced assassin. Wayne Rooney is
more like the assassin-faced baby.
Trevor Brooking floats like a
butterfly – and stings like one as well.