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Tuesday, 2 August 2011

Blooper Mario


So Mario Balotelli’s unhappy is he? What a massive shame. What a change from his normal sunny disposition, too. Truth be told, you wouldn’t think he had many reasons to be unhappy. Admittedly, he has attached what appears to be a strip of Velcro to his head, so maybe he’s unhappy about that. No? Maybe he’s unhappy because the press won’t get off his back, or because someone left kippers in his Maserati. Maybe it’s because he’s been done for parking offences 27 times. Maybe it’s because he just can’t park at all and he needs to use those mother/baby spaces at Asda.

All this might be true, but the official reason for Balotelli’s latest bout of the sulks is because he doesn’t like Manchester. A city, lest we forget, he has already lived in for a year. A city, lest we also forget, he is being paid somewhere in the region of 130,000 excellent reasons every week to like just fine. But no. Not enough for Mario. It was enough for Bushby, Mario, when he moved from York to go to university there. He adapted just fine. MacDonald grew up there. He managed. Sort of.

This is a clear sign of a man clearly at odds with his surroundings, hailing from Brescia (though born in Palermo) as he does, but it’s also a clear sign of a man who has failed to conduct the requisite groundwork on his new home. For example, the Trafford Centre has a Laser Quest AND a cinema. A fucking Laser Quest! You don’t know you’re born son. Rudimentary research would also have told you about the delights of Affleck’s Palace, where you can buy an inordinate amount of those stupid fucking chicken hats you are so fond of.

Balotelli’s ignorance just smacks of a man who’s never experienced the sheer joy of paying £1 for a bottle of Carlsberg at Fifth Avenue. £1.50 for a Jagerbomb? And the city isn’t ‘to your tastes’? What kind of idiot are you?

Such a staggering lack of insight into Manchester’s potential can only come from a man who has never, ever been either down the world-famous Curry Mile in Rusholme or had his taste buds teased by Raj’s kebab shop on Oxford Road. A man who’s never been for chips and curry sauce in the Northern Quarter.

Haven’t you seen that Hilton thing, mate? It’s fucking UPSIDE DOWN.

There’s a bar down by Castlefield which used to be owned by Mick Hucknall. INTERNATIONAL MUSIC STAR MICK HUCKNALL MARIO YOU ARROGANT CLOWN.

‘It rains all the time’ – oh boo fucking hoo. You’re in ENGLAND. It rains fucking everywhere here pal. Move to West Brom. Or Sunderland. I haven’t heard Pablo Ibanez moaning about the Midlands or Asamoah Gyan slagging off Tyne and Wear. Then again, I hear Gyan is a big fan of Mowbray Park. So yeah, Manchester’s the problem isn’t it. Complain about the shit weather all you like but don’t lay the blame at Manchester’s door. Do you want to win trophies or not? Yes? Well shut the fuck up and get used to the fact that most of them will be heading to Manchester for the next few years and that means you might have to train inside for one or two days more a week than you might ‘down south’ or ‘in Italy’. Twat.


  1. I know, madness to complain. They have frickin' MAGIC BUSES. Buses that are MAGIC - what more does a city need?!

  2. It was all about Finglands mate. The thinking man's choice.

  3. You say potato...