Jose Mourinho's Review Of The Year

[Aesthetic Relic 301]

'I decide to leave Chelsea by mutual consent' - it's Jose Mourinho's review of the year

January

England are thrashed 5-0 by Australia playing cricket, a sport that involves shouting at the referee, being rude to your opponent and waving at the crowd, and is naturally of no interest to me whatsoever. Meanwhile I, Jose Mourinho, am voted 38th sexiest man alive, just behind Prince William. Yes, 38th. This is what we face now.

February

Once again Chelsea win the jewel in English football's crown, the Carling Cup. Not a perfect day: new soft-hold mousse makes my hair look dry and unmanageable in celebration "bobbing huddle" pictures. Always we have room to improve. Two US billionaires complete takeover of Liverpool. Always very sad when a club sells its soul to a coterie of faceless moneymen - I said the same to Roman, Peter and Eugene.

March

England beat Andorra 3-0 to relaunch Euro 2008 campaign, even as enemies of Chelsea accuse me of calling Mike Riley a son of a whore in FA Cup tie against Spurs. Like I Mike-Riley-is-a-son-of-a-whore told them, this is the kind of Mike-Riley-is-a-son-of-a-whore phrase I use 10 times every Mike-Riley-is-a-son-of-a-whore 15 words. Also, Roman is getting divorced! Not all bad news. With a good lawyer, Irina might still get Michael Ballack.

April

They called it overblown, long-winded and hypocritical. But still I enjoyed very much Australia's victory in the cricket World Cup. Not sure why. Cristiano Ronaldo is voted Footballer of the Year and obviously I'm delighted to see a much younger, handsome Portuguese man being celebrated and do not hate him at all - even if he is common and wouldn't know a well-aged claret from a vintage Bordeaux.

May

Chelsea win the FA Cup, Man Utd thrashed 1-0 in glorious final. Now I must hold up two hands to show how many trophies I have and, yes, the Community Shield does count. I also allow Manchester to win the Premiership. No team has ever lost so few and still come second: already I am a champion; now I am the greatest loser. Then I permit Liverpool to reach the final of Champions League, where they will lose to Milan. I have other concerns: enemies of Chelsea try to deport my dog. I disdain them. I snub them. I get a police caution.

June

Swarthy, brooding, all-conquering - why do I love him? - Roger Federer wins Wimbledon for the fifth time, but his achievement is overshadowed by news of extremely clever and astute Chelsea signing of Steve Sidwell. Tony Blair resigns just three years after I arrive in his country. Another small triumph.

July

Padraig Harrington wins The Open at Carnoustie - difficult to pronounce sentence which, oddly, sounds very much like old Portuguese saying translated as "he who ignores youthful and photogenic coach's request for decent right-back in summer window faces long winter no matter how big his boat is". The Tour de France starts in same city as Chelsea football ground for first time. Second most handsome man in football, David Beckham, makes debut for LA Galaxy.

August

Tyson Gay wins three gold medals at the world athletics championships. Christine Ohuruogu wins gold medal in 400m. And I award myself a gold medal for new Premier League season swept-back Euro-resort-wine-waiter hairstyle.

September

I decide to leave Chelsea by mutual consent. "This is my wish," I tell Roman, as he helps me on with my coat. "You leave me no choice," I warn Peter as he hands me my briefcase. I tell the players first by text message. Many are so upset they can't even manage to reply. I only make the second "bong" on the ITV evening news. An outrage. Who is this "George Bush"?

October

Lewis Hamilton loses the F1 driver's championship by one point. Shows again how even a handsome outsider who likes to wear a neckerchief can be cheated of victory. Also, South Africa win the Rugby World Cup, Mark Cueto's disallowed try another reminder that even those who deserve to stand on a podium being showered with coloured polystyrene are hostage to fickle fate. Despite this I manage to beat my personal best on Pong while lying unshaven on the sofa with the curtains drawn listening to Bon Jovi Unplugged. Tami so proud she gives me a congratulatory talk about maybe getting out a bit and playing some golf or something.

November

With so many players still distracted by trying to compose the perfect text message of support for my decision to leave Chelsea, England lose to Croatia and miss out on Euro 2008. I try to take the pressure off by having a fight with a small boy in the playground at my daughter's school, but too little too late. Some small consolation for Steve and the boys: he totally cried.

December

Ricky Hatton loses to Floyd Mayweather in Las Vegas. Someone called Fabio Capello is appointed England manager. But sadly both are overshadowed by humble, pleading expressions of vague interest in employing Jose Mourinho from the FA. I decide to string them along just to smoke out that offer from Real Madrid, which must be coming really soon. They just keep missing me. Plus there's the time difference. For now, it's back to Pong.

As told to Barney Ronay

[Layla 0]

Haahhahaha love it tehehe

[Steve 10,227]

lol nice

[terry26 6]

LOL thats hilarious

[manpe 10,861]

[BlueLion. 21,491]

Also, Roman is getting divorced! Not all bad news. With a good lawyer, Irina might still get Michael Ballack.