'Hands up if you're a dickhead'
After Greg's Crazy Gang piece caused such a furore in south west London last week, we thought we'd piss off the north east this time. Welcome to Magic Spongers Mr Ryan Hubbard, who can be found at the excellent Ryan Hubbard's Modern Football and on Twitter.
I'm not really a man who hates people. I'll generally try to be nice to everyone I meet; even Nottingham Forest fans. Sometimes. But occasionally there are some people who get right on my tits. Wayne Rooney, Neil Warnock and Jedward to name a few; they all have the ability to do my nut right in - but I can cope with their minor dickheadedness. However, there is one man who stands hair, head, shoulders and, as Ramon Vega found out, elbows above the rest. Alan Shearer is the biggest dickhead I have ever had the misfortune of seeing. It has nothing to do with the fact he's a Newcastle legend; there are legends at Leicester too. And Newcastle is definitely one of the friendliest places that I've had the pleasure to visit. But there are many, many reasons why I reckon Alan Shearer is a dickhead.
I can live with the fact that he tries to style his hair like a cross between Tintin and fat Ronaldo at the 2002 World Cup, while ending up with a bald patch resembling the Solent. I can also live with his embarrassing, and somewhat “dad-like” attempts at warbling through Elevation by U2. I can even just about get over the fact that it was his needless foul that stopped us beating Argentina in 98.
What I can't stand about Shearer though, is that this is a man so clearly up himself, he feels he deserves to be paid for his appearances on Match of the Day based on the fact that he scored a few goals for England, while his lack of knowledge of the game – and indeed his unwillingness to learn – is testament to how big the cock on his forehead actually is.
Take the infamous Hatem Ben Arfa incident. If you were given money to talk about football, you would endeavour to know at least a little bit about the subject in hand. Shearer's displays on Match of the Day are reminiscent of Frank Abagnale Jr's attempts to be a doctor; but at least Abagnale made an effort. Even if Shearer had made up some total bullshit about Ben Arfa, at least I might feel our license fee was justified. But now, I'm sure I'm not the only one who feels like we're effectively paying the wages of a man who can't even be bothered to spend five minutes looking on Wikipedia to find out about “his supposed team's” latest signing.
I hate the fact he stumbles through every broadcast, sometimes edging in to make a comment which would make a five-year-old cringe. His ‘Turn up, state the fecking obvious, and then piss off home’ attitude is the sole reason I can't bear to watch the BBC's flagship highlights programme. I'd even put up with watching fucking Colin Murray.
"Casillas stood there with his legs.”*
Did he now? Well maybe that's why he's the first-choice keeper for the national team. God knows how they ever coped with that keeper who stood on his arms. Thanks for that amazing insight on how he managed to keep the ball out of the net, Alan. Now fuck off, so I can watch football on a Saturday night again.
It pisses me off that everyone in the FA sucks up to him. His kick on Neil Lennon's face during a 1998 league game against Leicester should have saw him banned; however Shearer's cry-baby attitude of “If you ban me, I won't play at the World Cup” forced the FA to back down and clear him of any wrongdoing. Shearer claimed he was trying to free himself after being tackled by Lennon; but if you can't free your leg without kicking someone in the face, let's face it; you're a bit of an idiot.
I also can't stand it that the man comes across like he is so mind-numbingly boring. He admitted to celebrating winning the Premier League by creosoting a fence. Creosoting a fence, for fuck's sake. It's probably a good job we didn't win the World Cup in 98, or he might have gone and cleared the guttering. Or – and I know this is pushing the boundaries, but – maybe he'd have painted the guest bedroom. Miserable fucker.
I hate him for his “jump, elbow and complain” style of play, which if anyone other than South Coast Head had tried, would have seen more cards flying around than a fucking Paul Daniels show.
He used to squirm his way in with referees, pretending to be their best mate; before getting the arse if one of them dare to give a decision against him. And most annoyingly of all, he's given almost god-like status; whereas he should be remembered for being a moaning, mardy, dirty bastard who scored a couple of goals.
So here's to Alan Shearer. A man which I abhor to an extent in which I feel the need to scream a tirade of “Fuck off you twatty bastard!” at whichever medium is displaying his stupid, cunty face.
And don't even fucking get me started on his twattish “pointy” celebration.
*Actual quote from Shearer on a save by Iker Casillas from Arjen Robben after last year’s World Cup final