The Rehabilitation Of Colin McDougall, Football Pundit
After being ‘let go’ by a notable sports broadcaster in 2007 for reasons that have never fully been disclosed, veteran football pundit/commentator Colin McDougall has now been re-invited back into the fold. BettingExpert.com has been granted full access to Colin’s return from the football wilderness with exclusive monthly excerpts from his diaries.
I don’t know what all the fuss was about when Didier kindly took it upon himself to splash the cash on his old mates at Chelsea by buying them some quality gold finger decorations to honour their Champions League victory.
The snipers from the sidelines were quick to call them tacky but if I’m being honest, there could have been even more jingle-jangle on show. I must say, that was a top flourish to have Ashley’s mug peeping out. We all love a bit of Ashley, don’t we?
I remember back when I was a mere work experience pup back in the seventies, that it was a given that all the top stars got themselves kitted out in what the kids these days like to call ‘bling’.
There was one time, Frank Worthington nearly blinded me in one eye when the flash coming off one of his medallions bounced off a floodlight at Loftus Road. If you look hard enough on that youtube gizmo, you’ll find the footage of me squinting as I try and quiz him on which club he’d be playing for on the following Saturday.
He had a good laugh but I still get black dots in front of my eyes whenever I’m near bright lights. Jamie thinks I’ve got a thing for him for what with all the winking I do in the studio but I can assure him, I’m not that way inclined. Not that I’ve got anything against that type of behaviour.
Anyway, back to the jewellery. When did it become fashionable to have a pop at footballers who like a bit of the old razzle-dazzle? Of course, that Balotelli lad should leave off with the diamond-encrusted earrings. Diamonds and earrings are for birds. But at the same time, if you’ve got it, you’ve got to flaunt it, right? I always envied the likes of Big Ron Atkinson and Big Malcolm Allison with their chunky bracelets and bronze tans. Those guys warranted being called ‘Big’. Got invited to a party back in the day over at Big Mal’s. Cigars, jacuzzi and a few page 3 stunners. Bit of Black Lace playing on the hi-fi. All before the days of kiss-and-tell, of course. Miss those days.
Still, the boys over at FIFA know a thing or two about the bling, if the decisions to give Russia and Qatar the World Cup is anything to go by. I’ve got a source over at a well-respected tabloid who tells me Swarovski factories were working overtime to meet the demands coming in from Moscow and Doha. Then again, you can’t trust everything a hack tells you. Sepp wouldn’t really suit a crystal necklace.
I like it though. That’s what football should be. None of this prole nonsense. Would you prefer to be standing on the terraces, freezing your knackers off, biting into a pie of some unidentifiable meat or would you much rather be glugging champagne in an executive box?
If I had my way, the winners of the next World Cup should melt it down and turn it into sovereign rings for the entire squad. Talking of which, got to remember to pop down to Argos to pick up a few post-Christmas deals courtesy of Elizabeth Duke. You can’t get a price on class.
Colin's Weekend Cashgrab
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