ECHO Comment: "Fears of Witch-hunt Against Liverpool FC"
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toffeejack
Player Valuation: £100m
does that **** really have to stay in our league? can anyone else see a team better than arsenal coming in for him, not looking likely atm; then again early days, his transfer request could change things.
will look forward to his reply about staying in england with another team based on what he said about his family - kopites will fume
will look forward to his reply about staying in england with another team based on what he said about his family - kopites will fume
bluemangroup
Player Valuation: £70m
I think it said la chupacabra.
noharmdone
Requested to be banned
I'm getting over excited by the thought of him diving and getting Stevie G sent off whilst playing for Arsenal..
Let's put it this way, if I were the Real Madrid owner, there is no way I'd associate a worldwide brand with a proven racist, prolific cheat and serial biter.
Arsenal are desperate to land any "world class" player that will come to them. PSG were one of the only other options, but they've went for Cavani instead.
If Arsenal don't get him, he's looking at Russia methinks.
toffeejack
Player Valuation: £100m
i've never really thought real were interested in him. maybe it's because i can't stand him as a human being and he plays for them that i can't rate him too highly, but he couldn't hit a barn door season before last and anyone can score in holland (alfonso alves). One really good season in a good league shouldn't be enough to propell anyone to £35m valuations imo. But yes, arsenal do seem desperate atm to just splash a massive wod on a player.
Arsenal are beyond desperate at this point now
The fans are really starting to turn now and Wenger's job is on the line
Desperate men will do desperate things...
17 goals in 39 games ? :huh:
ScouseBlueBoy
Player Valuation: £15m
I am crying and shaking right now.
I am Cathy’s ghost at the window of my Heathcliff, crying out to be heard. Heathcliff turns and heeds my call, rampaging through the door onto the open windswept moor. Reaching for my love.
Except Luis is not Heathcliff. Luis stands motionless by the fire, staring into the flames. Does he hear my call? Is he oblivious?
I am cast aside. I could be his love, but I am not Cathy. No. I am Ann Field. My love rages with the passion of a solar fire burning blood red. Liverpool red.
Luis loves another and I am spurned. Did he ever really love me? Am I simply fooling myself? Sometimes it seems like I’m like that bloke off that Game Of Thrones who protects Danerys. He really loves her but she fancies that bloke in the skirt who cut his mates’ heads off. Did I ever stand a chance?
Oh Luis, you made me a believer and now you cruelly take it all away. I – I who have nothing…
All I ever wanted to do was love you. Is that such a crime? You sneer with your callous lips – lips that I longed to kiss into the small hours. I would have made you the mother of all ‘fry-ups’ if you would only betroth your sardonic heart to me.
In the balmy Summer eve I lie prostrate across my ‘Pistolero’ bedspread. I stare at the ceiling until all is a blur. I see you kissing the badge – but it’s not the Liver Bird. It’s a cannon. A big cannon. Then I see you standing by a big cannon, stroking it mockingly as you look into my eyes and laugh like a Mexican bandit in a film – with Mexican bandits in it. That big laugh they all do.
And you are laughing at me. You are laughing at Kenny. You are laughing at Aldo. Stevie signs a new contract and you go ‘tra-la-la’. Doesn’t anything mean anything to you?
The moments we spent together? Were we just a stop gap, like a quick knee-trembler in the Grafton car park, while you were waiting for a proper fit bird to enter your life?
You fell and we picked you up, like a wounded songbird. You railed against the world and we nestled you in our bosom. You bit some vermin and we protected you like a skinhead hiding his rotty from the bizzies. And for what? You bolted all the Pedigree Chum we could feed you only to run off into the night.
And in the still of the night I cry and shake.
And more wood is thrown into the bin. The flames rise. I disrobe…
I am Cathy’s ghost at the window of my Heathcliff, crying out to be heard. Heathcliff turns and heeds my call, rampaging through the door onto the open windswept moor. Reaching for my love.
Except Luis is not Heathcliff. Luis stands motionless by the fire, staring into the flames. Does he hear my call? Is he oblivious?
I am cast aside. I could be his love, but I am not Cathy. No. I am Ann Field. My love rages with the passion of a solar fire burning blood red. Liverpool red.
Luis loves another and I am spurned. Did he ever really love me? Am I simply fooling myself? Sometimes it seems like I’m like that bloke off that Game Of Thrones who protects Danerys. He really loves her but she fancies that bloke in the skirt who cut his mates’ heads off. Did I ever stand a chance?
Oh Luis, you made me a believer and now you cruelly take it all away. I – I who have nothing…
All I ever wanted to do was love you. Is that such a crime? You sneer with your callous lips – lips that I longed to kiss into the small hours. I would have made you the mother of all ‘fry-ups’ if you would only betroth your sardonic heart to me.
In the balmy Summer eve I lie prostrate across my ‘Pistolero’ bedspread. I stare at the ceiling until all is a blur. I see you kissing the badge – but it’s not the Liver Bird. It’s a cannon. A big cannon. Then I see you standing by a big cannon, stroking it mockingly as you look into my eyes and laugh like a Mexican bandit in a film – with Mexican bandits in it. That big laugh they all do.
And you are laughing at me. You are laughing at Kenny. You are laughing at Aldo. Stevie signs a new contract and you go ‘tra-la-la’. Doesn’t anything mean anything to you?
The moments we spent together? Were we just a stop gap, like a quick knee-trembler in the Grafton car park, while you were waiting for a proper fit bird to enter your life?
You fell and we picked you up, like a wounded songbird. You railed against the world and we nestled you in our bosom. You bit some vermin and we protected you like a skinhead hiding his rotty from the bizzies. And for what? You bolted all the Pedigree Chum we could feed you only to run off into the night.
And in the still of the night I cry and shake.
And more wood is thrown into the bin. The flames rise. I disrobe…
Superb.
toffeejack
Player Valuation: £100m
was it that good? oh well, he should have had a bout 50 ha
11 in the league, Bren's beefing up his stats with goals vs exeter and brighton.
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