It's the book the whole of football has been waiting for - one man's angry rants against everything from Sir Alex Ferguson to his pet goldfish, Busby. Exclusive to the Spoof are these excerpts from Gary Neville's unofficial autobiography 'Cunts'.
On Sir Alex Ferguson
'I met Sir Alex before he was a Sir, just when he was plain old Alex Ferguson or 'the Gaffer' as I used to call him. He was a bit of a grumpy old Glaswegian, in fact I think he didn't really like the English or living in England for that matter. I used to say to him 'Gaffer, why don't you like the English?' and he used to reply 'What kind of fucking stupid question is that? Honestly Philip or Gary or whichever one you are, I think you need some therapy to get rid of this paranoia you have that I don't like the English. I love the English, maybe it's just you I don't like. I might even sell you to Everton one day depending on which one you are. You'd ney be happy with a move to Merseyside now would you?'
That was it. That was the final straw threatening me with a move to that shithole, so I picked up a can of Ruud Van Nistelrooys Lynx Safari deodorant and threw it across the changing room. I shouted 'Take that you red-nosed cunt' but luckily for me the Gaffer had left changing room about 30 minutes earlier so it ended up hitting Fabian Barthez's bald head. The French slaphead wasn't best pleased but looking back on that incident I suppose it was for the best as if it had hit Sir Alex then he might have even sold me to Liverpool. CUNTS.'
On David Beckham
'I met Sir David Beckham before he was a Sir, just when he was plain old David Beckham or 'Fuckface' as I used to call him. He was a right prima donna was our Becks. Always looking at himself in the mirror and trying to cover up the bald patch on top of his head with a can of spray on hair. So I said to him 'Why don't you just get your head shaved and be done with it you bald cunt?' And he said 'I aint going bald mate. What are you talking about? I think you need some therapy to get rid of this paranoia you have about my receding hairline. Just because I get all the birds and you've not had one bit of fan mail off any woman since you've been playing for United. Well, apart from that bird who promised you a date. And you went on it and it turned out the date was at her husband's plastic surgery clinic to give you a fackin face lift.'
That was it. That was the final straw telling me I was ugly so I picked up a pair of Ruud Van Nistelrooy's nasal hair clippers and threw it across the changing room. I shouted 'Take that you bald cunt' but luckily for me Becks had left the changing room about an hour ago and it ended up hitting Fabian Barthez's shiny chrome dome. 'Sacre bleu' he shouted. 'What is zees bald cunt that you call me?' I just laughed and said 'Sorry mate...... you bald cunt'. I thought it was kind of ironic although I'm not sure what irony is so it might not have been ironic. CUNTS
On Fabian Barthez
'I met Sir Fabian Barthez before he was a Sir, just when he was plain old Fabain Barthez or 'Froggy Fuckwit' as I used to call him. He was always speaking French and it really wound me up because I knew he was saying horrible things about me and how I must have been the shittest defender he'd ever had the misfortune to play with. So I said to him 'Why are you always saying I play football like a disabled Philip Neville and my breath smells of Ryan Gigg's penis?' And he said 'Gary, what in the name of Napoleon are you talking about? I never say zees things about you or anyone else, well apart from Roy Keane, but he eez, how you say, a vagina? I think you need some therapy to get rid of zis paranoia you have about me saying bad things about you in French. Why don't you learn some French then you would understand that I am not saying you are shit, I am just saying you are married to a Scouse whore.'
That was it. That was the final straw telling me my missus was from Liverpool so I picked up a bottle of Ruud Van Nistelrooy's Banana and Edam Cheese shower gel and threw it across the changing room. 'Take that you foreign cunt' I shouted but luckily for me Barthez turned round and managed to catch the shower gel, before dropping it and letting it roll through his legs. He never spoke to me again afterwards but I got my own back because I took a crash course in learning French so I could understand what he was saying. Never did learn the French word for 'cunts' though, useless fucking French teacher. CUNTS
On Busby his Goldfish
I met Sir Matt Busby the goldfish before he was a Sir. He was just plain old Matt Busby or 'Boring fishy twat' as I used to call him. He was always swimming around in circles and opening and closing his mouth so I poured half a bottle of Jack Daniels into his goldfish bowl and he fucking died. Lightweight wanker, I've never met a goldfish who could handle a drink. CUNTS
On Liverpool fans
I know this might be a shock to everyone in the world of football but I actually quite like Liverpool fans. They are a really affable group of people with a sense of humour bettered by no other fans I've been fortunate enough to meet.
No, hold on, I think I might have been mistaken when I wrote Liverpool fans there. I actually meant Man Utd fans. When I think of Liverpool fans just one word springs to my mind. Erm what was it again? Yes that's it. CUNTS.
Next time in your number one Spoof website, Gary reveals how he feels about his brother Philip, Ruud Van Nistelrooy's own personal tub of vaseline and tells a fascinating story of the time he went on holiday to Tenerife and ended up in a hotel full of Scousers.
Expect zero wit and lots more CUNTS as our hero comes to terms with his holiday from hell.