After months of waiting, starving and going insane watching repeats of Eastenders, at last the English Premier League kicks into action once again!
Lineker has followed the bucks, which has left the Beeb having to search for a new sonny boy.
They found one in Geoff Boycott who never kicked a ball in his life, but managed to hit them for a six whilst everybody fell asleep. Joining Geoff will be Lance Armstrong, who said: "where the money is that's where I'll be. Bike or no Nike. I mean...erm...bike."
The only soccer expert actually joining the Match of the Day team is a mummified version of Sir Alex Ferguson. The live version being too busy flogging his books and, perhaps, drinking just one too many "wee drams".
Several players have gone AWOL too: Angel (Blasphemy in it's highest tone) Di Maria has fled to France where he was last seen in Lourdes hoping to find out why he's such an arsehole. (Could it be his roots?)
However, much remains the same.
The Special One is still among the living dead and his favourite friend, Wenger, also went to Lourdes to buy an Angel, but couldn't find him!
King Louis van Gaal is still doing what he's best at: acting like a raving mad baboon in turds of Spanish cojones-shit. And Mad Mario, as usual, has given his employers yet another mega-hangover without even kicking a ball or setting fire to his bog-hole!
So, let's get the balls-shit rolling once again even though the hangover from last year is giving our multi-millionaire mercenary kickers more reason to cross their chest when scoring a goal or entering the field of play hoping to see an Angel who remains invisible, like most Angels tend to, c'est la vie!
