While strolling past a Stamford Bridge wheely bin after Boxing Day’s frustrating 1-1 draw with the noisy neighbours, I noticed a piece of paper sticking out.
It carried the Chelsea crest, and contained an early draft of the Blues players’ resolutions for 2012. I feel it’s only right that I share it with you. Happy new year.
I am convinced that my indifferent form is down to what psychiatrists call Samson syndrome. When I had my hair chopped off, I lost my power. So for the new year I will do anything (plastic surgery
included) to make me look exactly as I did when I was scoring for fun at Liverpool.
It’s time for a comeback, so 2012 will be my year. Christine has told me to keep patient. I only need 25 goals to become Chelsea’s all-time top scorer.
I’m going to buy a new suit to wear in February.
I’ve got 10 goals before Christmas, and I’m going to be top scorer this season. I should have netted against Fulham, but my target is still 23 – my squad number.
I’m figuring less in AVB’s plans, with Romeu the flavour of the month. He looks like something out of the Addams Family. Still, I’m happy, even as a £3m-a-year sub.
I vow to stay fit. OK, the hat is now part of my image, but that nose protector was too much. Some of my teammates have suggested that I should play in a wheelchair with my legs in plaster casts.
I’m not ambitious; I just want to be player of the year and finish ahead of Didier in the golden boot.
Hey, if I have to go blond to get a few more starts, I’ll do it.
Could someone tell me if I can get a tube straight from Earls Court to Arsenal?