Armani, Gucci, Calvin Klein, Burtons. These are just some of the top fashion names that many of the current Premiership stars have modelled for. There’s also a percentage of ugly bastards around as well, just look at the Beardsleys and Dowies of this world and you’ll see what I mean. However, it cannot be argued that the media has something like an obsession with clean cut, handsome fashion models that ponce around pretending to play football, while secretly only worrying about their manicure appointment or the mud getting in their freshly blond highlights. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m sick of this breed of Spice Boy. They go around pretending they’re pop stars and if you see a speck of mud on any of them at a quarter to five on a Saturday afternoon, I’ll give you a fiver out of my own pocket.
So we’re decided to honour the ugly bastards, praise the pongy players and worship the unwashed. There are plenty of stinky footballers and I feel that, instead of shunning them from the limelight in embarrassment, we should be celebrating these smelly specimens. So what if they stink? So what if they’ve never changed their underpants for six months? Who cares if they have more in common with some tramp called Old Tom, who wanders around Sunderland City Centre, with four cans of Special Brew in his Mac pocket shouting obscenities at shocked old women? Clip on your nosepegs and have your air freshener at the ready, as we introduce to you the filthiest, foul smelling individuals that have ever kicked a football…Trampmere Rovers.
Neville Southall – The famous tash ensures that Big Nev makes the Tramps selected eleven. Used to be a builder or bin man or something, he’s scruffy and likely to have a builder’s bottom to boot. This man actually shagged someone else other than his wife. Can you believe that? Imagine how his wife feels, being rejected by Neville Southall. Poor woman.
Danny Tiatto – Not many people will know who this person is, but he plays for Stoke City. I know he’s in the squad because, when we played Stoke last season I ended up sitting near the front of the East Stand and could still smell him on my clothes a week after the game. However, it turned out he wasn’t actually a tramp at all, but a professional footballer who just looked dirty.
Simon Grayson – The Villa fullback is another of the dirty defenders. Looks quite similar to Steve Claridge and, in my opinion, has a face that permanently indicates that someone has just kicked him up the arse. That doesn’t make him a tramp, it just makes him look stupid. However, it cannot be argued that he looks decidedly dirt laden. Plus, when I had my paper round, one Sunday I stopped to read about his ‘imminent’ transfer to Sunderland. As I was reading, in the rain, the old woman whose paper it was, came rushing out of her house, grabbed the soggy Sunday paper, clipped me around the ear and said she was going to ring the newsagent. She did and I was subsequently sacked. And he didn’t even sign for us, so he’s definitely in the team.
Darren Peacock – No explanation needed. Any professional footballer who looks like Neil off the ‘Young Ones’ on a bad hair day, deserves to be in a team like this on merit. Rumoured to live in a caravan with flowers painted on the side.
Brian ‘Killer’ Kilcline – Far from being a ‘Killer’, Brian was indeed nothing more than a pussycat in wolf’s clothing. Despite his hard man image, he’s going in because he had, and probably still has, the crappest, curliest, blondest hair ever to see the light of day. Actually, he probably is a tramp now, as he plays for Halifax. He is also a big puff, and I don’t mind saying that because he doesn’t know where I live.
Nicky Summerbee – Now, to everyone who might fancy Nicky, please accept my deepest apologies. But there is absolutely no getting away from the fact that he is the scruffiest looking Sunderland player. I think he’s a good footballer, before people start, it’s just hat he always looks really messy and, in my opinion, he is the secret lovechild of Rodney Trotter and Jimmy White. Anyone who bears the remotest likeness to them deserves inclusion.
Neil Readfearn – Big Yorkshireman, needs a shave, looks quite hard. It all adds up to only one thing… he is to be the central midfield kingpin of Trampmere. He is currently unhappy at Charlton, although the club are keeping schtum over the reason why. However, ALS can exclusively reveal that the reason for Readfearn’s unhappiness has nothing to do with football. It is, in fact, concerned with the club’s failure to negotiate a sponsorship deal with Carlsberg, which would’ve netted Neil a cool 14 cans of Special Brew a day for three years. This incident comes just days after he was heard shouting “They just don’t understand me… they’re trying to make me live in proper house! I mean, what’s the matter with this park bench here?” at a complete stranger in a park near The Valley. Middlesbrough are reportedly monitoring developments closely.
Alan Foggon – Fat, crap and in a time where players were given a special allowance for scruffiness, namely the 70’s, he really started to take liberties with his constantly below par appearance. He had crap long, greasy hair, he made Jan Molby look like a stick insect and he really just wasn’t very good. Foggon was the only player I can think of who played for all of the North East big three: Sunderland, Newcastle and Seaham Red Star (only kidding – Middlesbrough). It doesn’t make him any more tramp-like, I just thought I’d mention it.
Steve Claridge – As he is one of the main reasons for the inventions of this team, I think it’s only fair to let him join the squad. A self-confessed gambling addict who admitted to gambling away sums of money most of us can only dream about, he now plays for Portsmouth and, judging by their financial predicament, he’ll be soon living in Cardboard City. Has actually taken the image of looking scruffy and made it into an art form, complete with rolled down socks and hair that’s so unkempt, it makes Nicky Summerbee’s barnet look like Prince William’s. Pipped only by the ridiculously dirty Danny Tiatto for the captaincy. Rumoured to smell like the elephant’s bit in a zoo.
Marco Boogers – The ironic thing a bout Boogers is that, despite the lightheartedness and humour of this article, he is probably really sleeping on park benches in Holland, drinking cans of Heineken Braintumour or some such beer. Booger’s briefly stayed at West Ham before being declared mentally unfit to play football and went back to Holland in a huff, living in a clapped out caravan in a big field and, to my knowledge, hasn’t been seen since. My outstanding memory of this bloke is the things he never achieved as a pro footballer, such as shaving, cutting his hair, washing any part of his body or changing his clothes. Nutter.
George Best – Class footballer, drink problem, couldn’t see his face for the facial hair, say no more. Even then he still pulled Miss Worlds… how? My Business Studies teacher had a similar, massive beard and couldn’t pull his pants up properly, let alone pull stunning women. Explain that one to me, will you.