Soccer Saturday

That time has nearly arrived once again when the motley crew traipse into the studio to give us up to the minute football entertainment.

Who will we have this week, the Dawson loving Phil Thompson, clearly the voice of sanity. Yeah right, throws a strop when he's cut off and gives us the silent treatment in a failed effort to extract an apology from the juggling Hartlepool monkey.

Top man, Jeff Stelling listens to fact and figures in one ear, spouts them out with speed and aplomb as someone peddles the vidiprinter trying to catch him out. On top of this he has to listen to Merson getting excited over nothing or shouts of goal, oh no it wasn't from the studio Gooners.

Why do we have to endure so many Gooners? I don't mind Paul Merson, he adds entertainment value with his inability to pronounce anything other than a good British name, but Champagne Charlie the failed George Best impersonator, who promised so much on the field but never quite produced it.

At least he is ten times better than the idiotic Ian Wright who thankfully doesn't get near our screens to often. Matt 'Who Ate All The Pies' Le Tissier, not being a Gooner clearly adds value for that alone and is Captain Sensible among the crew, not hard if he's working alongside the school jester Merson.

I always wonder how Kammy would get on on the panel considering he doesn't watch the games when he's actually there. Paul Walsh should surely be doing Head and Shoulders advert over the follicly challenged Joe Hart doesn't quite cut the mustard when he gets the chance. Tony Cottee wants to be Mr Professional when we just want to be entertained. They probably have the panel about right apart from one minor detail.

Where are the women on this show, why can't we convert the stunning Alex Hammond over to football. Who would you rather watch, Phil 'The Conk' Thompson or Alex 'Corker' Hammond, it's a no brainer.

Why on earth don't they, when there is a charitable cause on the go, send her to a course, pop her in a wedding dress and charge £5 for a photo with all the blokes. They'd rake in a fortune.

Six hours of Alex Hammond and a pint on a Saturday afternoon would go down a treat. Oh well until then we'll have to listen to Thompson's Dawson eulogies (not that I mind) and Charlie telling us Spurs flatter to deceive. Trouble is he's right, don't you just hate it when that happens.




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