He pipped them all. In a last minute voting frenzy, little known Sunday League footballer Tony 'Twinkletoes' Trundle scooped the Ballon D'Or World Footballer Of The Year award from under the very noses of considerably richer and better looking luminaries such as Ronaldo, Kaka, Raul, et al.
Trundle, a stand in utility player for Peyton's Plateworks XI in the fifth division of the North East Lancashire Ceramics Employees League trumped the big boys despite having only started five games and coming on as sub in two during the whole of last season.
Trundle was an obvious choice as far as Michel Platini was concerned: 'He turned up on a foggy Sunday morning last January, still pissed up from the night before, and despite some heavy retching still managed to play the last five minutes against Accrington Academical Ceramicals United,' Platini gushed. 'And even though his team lost the game 7-0 Trundle was outstanding in his total lack of movement. And he went on afterwards to the post match piss up, sank seven pints of export, a rum bastard, and a scotch on tripe. Oh, and pie and peas too. That's dedication for you.'
'The guy's a star,' Sir Bobby Charlton enthused. 'It's high time football looked back to its roots.'
'I believe he can still get it up too,' quipped Pele, 'which is pretty amazing considering his debauched lifestyle.'
Alan Hansen positively effused, 'I've never seen a centre back be so cool while he's munching on the remnants of last night's doner kebab strolling around the park like he owned it. This guy is a legend.'
'When he's not being violently sick,' added Gary Lineker.
Trundle was unable to accept the award in person because he was ill in bed with a motherfucker of a hangover and couldn't be arsed.
More as we get it.