Footblog

West Ham squad Photoshop horror

Ah, the marvels of modern technology. Nowadays it doesn't matter if two of your top signings have got their legs snapped in half when it's time for the squad photo. You can simply Photoshop their heads on and nobody would notice the difference, would they? Click photo to enlarge

Let's just hope the surgeons do a better job of putting Kieron Dyer (top right) and Julien Faubert (bottom left) back together than West Ham's art editor did, or else those boys will never kick a ball again.

(Blatantly stolen from KUMB forums)

Baker, Kelly and Fourpence

To say that an 18st stone man would leave large shoes to fill would be a cheap joke, but unlike Carlton Cole, Footblog won't let an open goal pass. I lamented the absence of Danny Kelly from the Times podcasts a couple of weeks back, but I'm glad to say the big man is back podcasting  with his old Radio Five partner Danny Baker, and the pair have started the season in better form than Arsenal.

Want proof? This week's show includes a list of some of the best names in African football. Top of the shop? I present to you none other than the magnificently monikered Caps Utd player, Danger Fourpence. Don't believe me? Check him out alongside Method Mwanjali and Limited Chikafa in the Caps Utd squad list on the ever-reliable Wikipedia.

Then check out Baker & Kelly's podcast. The best thing to happen to British football since Frank Worthington's mullet.

Bywater makes a c*** of himself

Derby goalkeeper Stephen Bywater isn't the sharpest tool in the six-yard box; his nickname at West Ham was Trigger and I'm fairly sure that wasn't because he's a crackshot with a rifle.

And, according to the good people of KUMB, he made a bit of plum of himself on Sky's Goals on Sunday this morning. Apparently, he was talking about recovering from the 5-0 mauling by Arsenal, when he told the stunned studio that:

"Les Sealey wouldn't want me to be  a C-*-N-T to myself"

As KUMB member, West Ham Matt, elegantly puts it:

"The thing is, he thought about it, paused, and then decided spelling c*** would be fine on live TV"

Not content with breaking the last taboo of live broadcasting, Bywater then went on say:

"I had to bite my teeth a bit"

The Mensa form's in the post, son.

 

New Chelsea boss taking Saturdays off?

A curious little nugget emerged from Sky's pre-match interview with Avram Grant: the new Chelsea manager didn't work with his players on Saturday because of his religious beliefs.

I know Saturday games are rarer than fully-formed sentences from Wayne Rooney thesedays, but surely that's going to prove a bit of a stumbling block?

Crying shame

Two words: grow up.

Mourinho - the People's Prince

I think we can safely assume Pat Nevin isn't in charge of the red carpet at Stamford Bridge, after delivering the following welcome for Avram Grant's appointment on the BBC website:

"Avram Grant is going to be as welcome as Camilla at Diana's memorial."

That scratching noise you can hear is Roman Abramovich, a chisel, and the Chelsea Hall of Fame plaque.

Steve Bruce - extended highlights

I spent last night in the box at Stamford Bridge - which is more than can be said for the Chelsea strikers, but I digress. Despite a reasonably entertaining game unfolding in front of me, I could barely tear my eyes from the man sitting four rows behind me in the slightly posher seats (carpet, don't you know?): Steve Bruce.

As God (and Dave and Ross) is my witness, the man's put highlights in his hair. Yes, the six-foot lumsden with the world's must busted hooter, has touched up his roots. He's literally had the hair-dryer treatment. And he looks an absolute tit for it. Somewhere between my mum circa 1987 and Judith Chalmers. And even my mum's had the good sense to swerve the highlights since the dawn of the 21st century.

One other thing I noted during my 90-minute surveillance of Brucie: he didn't once get out pen and paper and scribble down a note, thus relying on his peroxide-poisoned memory to determine his tactics when Birmingham face Chelsea in, erm, January. No wonder the Blues are looking shoe-in for relegation.

Is this Lehmann's successor?

Is this the only photo that's ever been taken of Arsenal's very-own Roman Abramovich?  Or does Alisher Usmanov always walk around like this, in the hope that he'll replace Jens Lehmann once he takes over at The Gunners? On this season's evidence, he could do little worse.

Cock hunters welcome

According to my site stats, two people have found their way to my blog over the past few hours by typing "biggest cock in football" into Google.

The fact they didn't find the Robbie Savage homepage shows Google's still got some work to do on that search engine.

Someone shoot Soccer AM

Soccer AM has been on the wane for years, but since Tim Lovejoy left, they're not so much flogging a dead horse as dragging the old nag down to the glue factory by its tail.

The show started going downhill when the team started to believe they were sitcom writers. The Barry Proudfoot sketches, for example, were about as funny as the mumps, but the general banter between Lovejoy, Fenners and the woefully underused Sheephead just about made it watchable.

Now all three have departed, and have been replaced by the gormless moronathon that is Andy Goldstein. He is essentially Lovejoy-lite, but with a charisma deficiency. His one-liners aren't so much sign-posted as flashed up on six-foot, neon motorway signs. He's so dependant on the autocue that you wonder if they have to use it to remind him to breathe in and out occasionally. I watched for about 20 minutes this morning before flicking over to something more entertaining - like Last of the Summer Wine on UK Gold.

Please Sky, blow the final whistle on this cobblers before you spunk any more of my £40-a-month on it.