John Terry: Villas-Boas must be trusted!

[xPetrCechx 13,546]

John Terry: Villas-Boas must be trusted

John Terry has warned the Chelsea hierarchy that Andre Villas-Boas MUST be allowed to make his own decisions if he is going to be successful at Stamford Bridge.

In what appeared to be a coded ­message to owner Roman ­Abramovich and the Chelsea board, captain Terry has called for his new boss to be given 100 per cent backing as he prepares for the new season.

http://www.mirrorfoo...icle779264.html

[eldo 868]

I was sitting in the changing room, deep in thought as I examined a complex tactical algorithm which I have been in the process of devising for seven months now, when I looked up to see Mr. Terry standing above me.

“Ah, John!” I began, cheerily motioning at a seat next to me.

“Shhh…” he interjected, sternly placing his index finger over his lips. His flesh looked pasty and limp in the unflattering dressing room light, and he smelt strongly of hair gel. “C’we talk?” he said. “Man to man, like.”

“But of course, my dear fellow,” I replied enthusiastically, “I’m happy to talk with any of my players if they have concerns or sugges…”

“No,” he stopped me short again. “Man. To. Man.” He enunciated each word, presumably for dramatic effect, or perhaps to hint at some alternative meaning of “man to man” which was, lamentably, lost on me. I am, on the whole, fairly well acquainted with English idioms and turns of phrase, but over the course of the conversation that followed I found myself utterly unable to grasp what it was that Mr. Terry was trying to say. I’ll recount the thrust of the exchange as best I can.

“Me and Lampski been talking,” he said. “Thought it was about time we tol’ you a bit about how fings work ‘rand here.” Trying, apparently, to maintain eye-contact but unable to stop his focus from intermittently drifting sideways, he gripped my elegant thigh with his hairy, meaty hand. “Now, we know you fink you’re the big shot, big fancy fella with all coaching badges and fancy foreign name an’ that, probably love all your fancy creams an’ think you know all about tactics and stats and all that,” he said. “But we want you to know…” He paused, looked down at his shoes as if an ounce of wistfulness was trying to squeeze its way out of his brain. “But we want you to know,” he repeated, “you’ll never be Joe-zay.”

“Joe-zay?” I replied, confused.

“M’reeno. The Special One.”

“Ah,” I understood. “Well don’t worry old fellow, although we’re both Portuguese and I worked for him for a number of years, José and I actually have quite different management styles. For example, I have a greater emphasis on the collecti…”

“You’ll never be fackin’ Joe-zay! You can’t fackin’ touch him! You can’t fackin’ touch him,” Terry shouted, his voice audibly breaking with the emotion one feels for a long-lost loved-one. “People have tried, y’know. Me and Lampski and the boys, we saw off that Jewish fella after he lost us the Champ’yuns League Final. S’klari, din’t last a fackin’ second. He was the big shot, all ‘ooh I’ve won the World Cup and ooh I’m all Brazil’yun an’ that,’ fack off mate. Fack off.”

“John, John, listen,” I said, tenderly. “I understand how you feel about your old manager. I too have had great heroes, great icons of the game whom I still look up to. But, understand this; all I ask from you is that you apply yourself to the best of your ability, that you perform at the level I, and the fans, and your team-mates expect from you.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Don’t get funny sunshine. Like to fink I know a few fings about how fings work ‘rand ‘ere. All I’m saying is, I got my eye on you, yeah? We can do this the easy way, or the ‘ard way. You got a problem with one of the boys, one of the foreign players causing you ‘assle or Did’yay throwin’ a strop or what ‘av ya, come to me or Lampski and we’ll ‘av a word, smoove fings over for ya.”

I said nothing.e

“Well, anyway, I’m glad we’ve ‘ad this little chat, got to know each uvver a little betta.”

“We have actually met before, remember I worked at Chels…”

“Yeah, like I say, nice to meetcha. Don’t try anyfing funny and we’ll get on just fine.”

Again, I was silent.

“Oh, and before I forget, we’ve got a little fing going on wiv Torres. Just testin’ his balls early doors, trying to stamp all that fancy Spanish rabbish out of ‘im, y’know. So if you see one of us spittin’ in his food or crackin’ on to ‘is wife, turn a blind eye, it’s standard new-boy banter. Guy needs toughenin’ up. Anyway, I’ll leave that wiv you.” And, with that, he departed, slamming the dressing room door behind him with menacing force.

from here

[Spike 12,049]

My god, what the hell did I just read?

Should I be slightly aroused after reading that, eldo?

That odd text very much reminds me of one Humble Humbert Humbert.

[Henri 115]

John Terry: Villas-Boas must be trusted

John Terry has warned the Chelsea hierarchy that Andre Villas-Boas MUST be allowed to make his own decisions if he is going to be successful at Stamford Bridge.

In what appeared to be a coded ­message to owner Roman ­Abramovich and the Chelsea board, captain Terry has called for his new boss to be given 100 per cent backing as he prepares for the new season.

http://www.mirrorfoo...icle779264.html

With all due respect, Abramovich dont give a f... what our captains says, he has proved that a lot of times. He is the boss!,

obey me or get out!, is the way he runs the firm.

[Domino- 116]

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