This ISN'T Anfield

Written by Jeremy Paxman

Monday, 27 September 2010

image for This ISN'T Anfield
NASA: N.eed A.nother S.ponsor A.nfield?

You can often tell a lot about a club by their shirt sponsor.

Everton have Chang Beer (so one could infer that you'd have to be a pissed up Chinese factory worker to support them) and before that they had One 2 One (or as we across the park liked to suggest; Gone 2 One).

Manchester City are sponsored by Etihad since that's the airline their new found friends in the Middle East have to use to get to the match. Spurs used to be sponsored by Thomas Cook - probably because they guarantee to get you in and out of Europe in 90 minutes.

Rangers have announced a multi-million pound three-year sponsorship with Tennent's Lager which is genius - you really couldn't think of a better target market for that product than Ranger's loyalist fanbase of alcoholic wifebeaters and kiddy fiddlers.

In the absense of a company called Rentboys, Chelsea sport Samsung on their shirts (which is still highly appropriate because there is only one bloke who makes the effort to sing at Stamford Bridge and his name is obviously Sam - who Sung).

Liverpool on the other hand have - until recently - benefited from having shirt sponsors that arguably underpinned their unparallelled success over the decades. Crown Paint - well that signified both their Crown as the dominant English League and European champions and the fact they used to Paint the town Red at the end of every season to celebrate an even larger trophy cabinet. More recently Liverpool had Carlsberg emblazened across their chests which demonstrated how Liverpool are probably the greatest football club in the world.

But now? Liverpool have Standard Chartered and it's all gone downhill ever since. I blame that commercial move alone for all our woes. Standard sums it up - average, mediocre, basic. Chartered epitomises the mentality of both the owners and many of the squad - for hire, mercenary, on a promise, avaricious. Combined, we have a mediocre bunch of mercenary's. Spot on assessment.

So the current crisis at Liverpool can be very simply solved. Apart from having Torres dye his hair blonde again, all we really need is a new shirt sponsor that reflects our ambition and ideals. I've some suggestions in mind already:

(1) Lucky Strike (self explanatory)
(2) Tampax (stops bloody clots and is available for heavy flow)
(3) Cillit Bang (unfortunately, this only works in conjunction with us signing a player called Cillit)
(4) Durex (so when someone shoots, we're well protected)
(5) NASA (Need Another Scoring Attacker)
(6) British Airways (always striking)
(7) Viagra (rises to the occassion for 90 minutes)

I figured out the other day that to cover the wages of the 13 men on the pitch I'd have to go to every league match for 277 years. The gulf between the fans and the players is wider than ever. This ISNT Anfield at the moment. We might as well be sponsored by KY-Jelly (ideal for wankers).


The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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