Footballers' Wives – utter crud…..

Last night, I watched my first ever episode of ‘Footballers' Wives’. It was a monster-long 90 minute episode - an everyday story of lust, more lust, sex, rape, debauchery, drugs, money, bribery, baby swapping, dodgy hair-dos, spray-on tan, big jewellery and really poor fashion sense. I viewed in vain for some good, clean footy action - liniment, jock straps, diving in the box, strained calf muscles and disputed offside decisions….. But all to no avail.

I think the main message emerging from last night’s show was that money doesn’t buy you happiness - or taste - or acting ability …. Or even a plausible story line.

I mean, for a start, the actors playing the actual footballers, quite often managed to string more than 3 words together at any one time.

And as for the ‘Wives’……. They didn’t seem to do much shopping at all. Not one of them expressed a desire to have a pop career…… and the weirdest kids name in last night’s show was ‘Troy’….

No ‘Cruz’, ‘Romeo’, ‘Brooklyn’, ‘Calligula’, ‘Stallion’ or ‘Colin’ was to be found in any of the dysfunctional footy households on show… I mean, where’s the reality in that?

It’s a little known fact that Alfreda could have been a ‘Footballer’s Sister in Law’. She was once engaged to the brother of former Spurs and England defensive stalwart, Graham Roberts. But she met me, love blossomed, she said a ‘sick as a parrot au revoir’ to the potential ‘Footballer’s Sister in Law lifestyle’ and embraced inadequacy and suburbia. She is now a ‘FatarsedBlogger’s Wife’…..

(I don’t think she has any regrets)….