Written by Paxton Quigley

Monday, 16 July 2018

image for The Secret England Footballer: World Cup Shambles, My Personal Roundup
OMG, stop sexting me baby. Uncle Gareth isn't coming with me now

By the time you read this, I'll be back in Blighty doing the biz with the owner's daughter again. Just what I need and so does she. We'll be off to Ibiza for some pre-season R&R shortly.

Well, never let it be said that I didn't do my best for the team. I am unblemished and the only one who can hold my head high, having not even had a snifter of the ball during this festival of football. Not even for the third place match when we were two-nil down. Bloody big nose Southgate.

A lot has been made of the togetherness of this young team although yours truly isn't one of the new golden generation, being a bit long in the tooth. I've seen it all before, how Cashley was a nice boy until he left the Arse and met up with Lamps and the other Chelsea players. They soon sorted him out. They'll learn in time that there's more to this game than playing pretty football but not getting shots on goal. There, I've said it.

The youngsters will get to know the benefits of this career choice. There's the dosh, the cars, the booze, the birds, the "nefarious substances" during a post match victory celebration...I could go on but I don't want to incriminate myself.

Apparently old Big Nose has "emotional intelligence" which makes him a good manager and team builder. It allows him to sympathise with the youngsters and build their confidence. Emotional intelligence? My arse. Did he sympathise with me? Did he put his arm around me and tell me how sorry he was that I didn't play or even get time off for extracurricular activity? No.

He only had a private word with me on two occasions. The first time was when he turned down my request for compassionate leave to see my Russian cutie for a couple of days, even though I offered him the chance to double up with me. Wink! The second time was after Saturday's match when he had the nerve to ask me if the offer was still going. Cheeky bastard.

That's enough of that. My babe's waiting in her hotel suite with a bottle of Bolly. We've got a lot of catching up to do.....

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

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