It was tough going in the last few games I played, Stoke. I should have been sent off, Ethertington had the better of me the whole 45 minutes i played. I spoke to the manager at half time, I can't play anymore, I just can't cope. Heartbroken, i never returned to watch the second half of the match, I sat in the changing room crying my eyes out, the team returned. Mike came over to me, sat down and slung an arm over my shoulder. Ye'll be alright sonny. I had to lighten up, my mood was having an affect on the rest of the dressing room, during that 45 minutes of complete peace and quiet, i thought to myself, one more game? c'mon just quit already! These questions irritating me. I went into training the next day, and it was back to normal. Rio with all the banter, Wayne's ugliness getting slagged off as usual "she's just in it for the money Wazza" i heard, i started to feel better about myself, and clearer about my future. The next few days of training were excellent, i did really well. And cope with the likes of Nani, Anton, Javier, and these where the best. The gaffer pulled me in, You'll be starting on Saturday, big game against West Brom, You'll be fine"
Kick off arrived that Saturday, and the nerves piled on. Roy Hodgson had obviously set his team out to attack my flank and put me under pressure. Jerome Thomas was ridiculous that game, i just couldn't cope, His fast feet confused my rusty, heavy legs. One on one, he put the ball through my legs and off he went. I brought him down in the box, oh **** i thought to myself. I glanced over to the dogout, and fergie's face was mortified. I walked over, and demanded that i be substituted. Then i knew my career as a player was over. I went straight down the tunnel and sat in the changing room. I thought about the game, then only one thought appeared in my mind.
MANAGEMENT!
Kick off arrived that Saturday, and the nerves piled on. Roy Hodgson had obviously set his team out to attack my flank and put me under pressure. Jerome Thomas was ridiculous that game, i just couldn't cope, His fast feet confused my rusty, heavy legs. One on one, he put the ball through my legs and off he went. I brought him down in the box, oh **** i thought to myself. I glanced over to the dogout, and fergie's face was mortified. I walked over, and demanded that i be substituted. Then i knew my career as a player was over. I went straight down the tunnel and sat in the changing room. I thought about the game, then only one thought appeared in my mind.
MANAGEMENT!
