As the clock ticks down to the transfer deadline, all eyes will be on Melwood for potential late signings, movers and shakers at the club. As luck would have it I have an excellent source at the club (that's right, he's in-there-now) who has been keeping me abreast of events. I will you keep updated on his observations; his first few are below.
9.03 am. players arrive for the morning team-meeting. Torres stops to sign some autographs. The mood is subdued amid rumours that the Gaffa is wanted by the old lady. Smiles soon break out when it is explained that the old lady does not refer to an angry Montse and the session will go ahead as scheduled.
9.17 am. Ryan Babel arrives to find the gates shut and the training pitches deserted. Only Torres is there and he is busy with a group of fans. Babel Decides to head home and release a new R&B single. He quickly tweets his agent to express his anger that no one told him training was off.
9.18 am. Ryan Babel recieves 2 points on his license for driving and using a mobile phone
9.24 am. The reserves cautiously come out of hiding, make sure Babel is gone and start to happily kick a ball around.
11.11 am. The rest of the players have gone to the gym to work out. Aquilani is in the pool relaxing. His Aqua-man trunks are very fetching. He considers waxing his chest and asks Dirk for some tips.
11.14 am. The senior players have remained behind for a strategic transfer policy discussion with the management team. The meeting quickly descends into farce as Sammi Lee, Carragher and Gerrard attempt to improve Rafa's pronunciation.
11.25am. A worried Philip Degen, who has been eavesdropping on the group, quickly leaves his post at the keyhole and goes to reception. With no sign of the mysterious fax that the group has been shouting about in sight, he calms down. Perhaps he is safe after all.
12.21 pm. Ryan Babel arrives for lunch in a taxi to find the reserves in full flow. He quickly pulls on his boots, shouting at the taxi driver that he is too good to pay for the trip. He rushes onto the pitch, takes possession of the ball and runs like lightning into the corner.
12.22 pm. Ryan Babel falls over in the corner
12.23 pm. Reserve team training ends.
12.27 pm. Police arrive with an irate taxi driver looking for Ryan Babel. Pepe Reina sorts out the bill and gently admonishes Ryan. Ryan tweets his twitter buddies to tell them that Pepe is a stand-up guy.
12.32 pm. and security are busy tracking down some miscreant who has climbed onto the wall around the training ground and has been shouting abuse at the players ever since. As Phil Brown is dragged away he is heard to shout that none of the Liverpool players would get into his team. As he is stuffed into the back of a police van, Rafa tries to sell him Babel. No joy.
12.34 pm. Torres is still signing autographs. One girl has offered to name her baby after him. Torres is flattered. She then asks if he would help her make that baby. Torres is quite worried. He edges his way into Melwood. Still no sign of Silva, Villa or Quaresma.
Got a few more updates after lunch.
1.15 pm. All the players are in for a pasta lunch with chicken and peas. Dirk has brought his own fish instead, one that he caught in the Liverpool canal. He offers his pasta lunch to Rafa who wolfs it down with great appreciation. On a sheet of paper headed 'Team V Bolton' Benitez pencils Dirk's name.
1.18 pm. Ryan babel tries to enter the foodhall but finds the doors locked. He angrily tweets his grandmother to tell her that lunch was called off, but nobody told him. He decides to head home and produce another radio show. He passes through reception on the way out and waves goodbye to Philip Degen who is still anxiously awaiting a fax.
1.27 pm. Rafa manages to finish off Ryan and Philip's lunches. He feels a slightly guilty twinge since Montse had told him to cut his carb intake. Then he spies Insua's pudding and decides he can fit in a little more.
1.28 pm. Having struck a deal with Rafa, Insua heads off to tell Aurelio he will be on the bench again this weekend.
1.47 pm. Carragher decides to work on his short passing game. He grabs Pacheco and heads to the pitches.
1.48 pm. Carragher stands in one corner of the pitch and proceeds to hoof ball after ball toward Pacheco. The exercise becomes increasingly difficult as Pacheco is forced to run around chasing errant missiles.
1.53 pm. After amassing a massive 0/16 completions, Carragher tires of the exercise. He pulls a pound coin from his pocket and throws it toward the fast moving Pacheco, catching him in the head first time.
155 pm. Pacheco receives 8 stitches and is ruled out of the starting 11 for Bolton. He might make the bench though.
2.22 pm. and Glenn finally walks in to Melwood with his hand stuck in a horse. He explains to the medical staff who are finishing patching up Pacheco that he had hoped to speed up his recovery by using placenta to heal the wound. No one has the heart to tell him that placenta is not normally found in the rectal region.
2.25 pm. Carragher tries to top the Ronaldo video by repeatedly hitting the bar from the halfway line. So far he has hit the corner flag twice. Gerrard puts down his inflatable CL cup just long enough to catch it on his camera phone.
2.26 pm. Torres finally stops signing autographs for the security man and ground staff. He tries to get a late lunch and bumps into a guilty looking Rafa who is busy trying to steal chocolate from the vending machine.
3.03 pm. and some excitement at last, Jones has arrived for a medical!
3.04 pm. Correction, it's Ryan Babel, in a wig, trying to sneak back in without Rafa finding out.
3.49 pm. And Steve Bruce arrives with Jones in tow. Initially there is some confusion when security mistake him for Dirk's brother and send him to the pool where the Dutchman and Aqua-man are still swimming laps.
3.52 pm. Bruce, in poor temper, finally meets Rafa and accuses him of lacking respect. His position is somewhat weakened by the huge price tag he has sellotaped onto Jone's forehead.
3.53 pm. Bruce demands 12 million. Rafa offers him 12 million and Ryan Babel. Negotiations breakdown and Bruce heads home in poor temper. Still no sign of Alves, Simao or Aimar.
Just got a few more updates from my source (can't say who, but he's definitely not Aldo)
8. 53 am. Snow on the training pitch! The gates are locked! No one has told Ryan. With tears streaming down his cheeks Babel spins his car and wobbles down the road as he tries to tweet his agent!
9.03 am. a giggling Reina and Riera unlock the gates and start to remove the cotton wool they have carefully laid on the training ground.
9.07 am. and Rafa Benitez enters Melwood. He is in a bad mood. Montse was hinting she needed a new watch this morning. After he explained that the Champions League Rolex was gone, the Premier League Seiko was also looking a bit dicey and Reading had put paid to the FA Cup Citizen watch she was not happy. When he admitted the most she could look forward to was the Casio calculator watch Europe League Cup, the bacon and eggs had gone all over the floor.
9.09 am. a breakfastless Rafa enters the building passing a still waiting Philip in reception. He makes a beeline for the vending machine while uttering ‘just one Cornetto’ under his breath. Degen worries the Juventus move could still be on.
9.29 am. and the team has gathered. Gerrard is limping heavily, but manages to straighten up whenever Rafa gives him a fleeting glance. His brow is even more furrowed than usual. It seems Alex has given him pancakes again this morning and its obviously preying on his mind.
9.33 am. and Riera and Reina get a dressing down for playing tricks on poor Babel. The squad trundles out onto the pitch while Rafa contacts Ryan. His answering machine has a 10 minute long rap message before it finally beeps.
9.34 am. Martin has decided that a professional should focus on technique and close control. He takes a ball and begins weaving in and out of cones.
9.35 am. After breaking 13 cones Martin decides that a professional really needs to focus on passing and crossing. He takes a bag of balls and starts stroking ball after ball around Melwood.
9.39 am. After hoofing his entire bag of balls over the walls of Melwood, an angry Martin decides that a professional really needs to focus on booting the opposition into submission.
9.41 am. Rafa admonishes Martin for a two legged tackle on Maxi. From behind. In the car park as he got out of his car.
9.42 am. As medical staff look after a shaken Maxi, he explains to the gaffer that he slept in. Apparently some madman kept banging on his window all night, insisting he had bought him on his Xbox and he should turn up to play in the park tomorrow. Oh, and he wanted him to bring some jumpers for goalposts. Sighing, Rafa rings Moysey and explains the difference between reality and Fifa 10 one more time.
10.46 am. An apologetic Babel enters Melwood and meets the boss. With training nearly over for the morning, Rafa tells Babel to practice his keepy-ups for a while. A happy Ryan runs off and soon Melwood is resounding to shouts of ‘1, 2,3… smeerboel. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5….. smeerboel. 1, 2… vuil!’
11.11 am. Two helicopters land at opposite ends of the pitch and two fat men are crow barred from their recesses. The owners are here to discuss transfer funding! Apparently G&H have some plans they want to run by Rafa! Should have more news after lunch.
11.15 am. Even more excitement! Carra is seen hoofing ball after ball from right back up to what just might be Ruud van Nistleroy!
11.16 am. On closer inspection it appears to be Glenn’s horse. In fairness for such a big horse, he has got a good touch and he has a fair turn of speed once he gets going. Three fat hands rub three fat jaws simultaneously.
11.26 am. Training over for the day. Aqua-man and Dutch gold head for the swimming pool. David Ngog decides to shower. A laughing Gerrard asks him if he will wash n’ go. David doesn’t understand. His mother had always thought him that it was wash. Rinse thoroughly. Condition. Rinse again. Exfoliate. Moisturise. David is a good boy and does what his mum says. He enters the showers and nods at Jay Spearing.
11.27 am. Jay Spearing is trying not to stare at David’s massive manhood. It’s not easy when it’s at eye level. He decides to face the wall. Ngog slowly and carefully starts to thoroughly clean his pubic hairs. Jay starts to hurriedly rinse.
11.29 am. In reception Degen is looking feverish.
11.30 am. and Still no sign of Van de Vaart, Sneijder or Raul.
Hopefully there will be more news on the transfer front post lunch.
Some more updates. My mole is getting nervous now, I’m not sure how much more information he can acquire…
12.01 pm. Glen has spent most of the morning trawling through Amazon UK looking for horse placenta. His hand is aching, but he’s not sure if it’s from the injury or his Harry Potter mouse and pad. Frustrated at his lack of success he gives up for the afternoon, but not before purchasing a ‘My Little Pony’ satchel for his niece. At least I think it’s for his niece.
12.03 pm. Senior management, senior players and the owners repair to the inner sanctum to hold high profile discussions on transfer funds for January and the summer. George is going to unveil his plans for garnering a pool of funds big enough to purchase some top notch talent.
12.05 pm. The discussions are halted prematurely. A disappointed Gillett takes his big white bucket with ‘LFC Please give generously’ on the side and thrusts it angrily into the bin. Apparently Rafa felt that it might give the press the wrong idea.
12.07 pm. A break for lunch. Rafa seems dejected. Even though it’s his favourite, Paella with mushy peas and chips, he can barely manage his own and Babel’s. A worried Dirk offers him some of his pike, but Rafa shakes his head. He appears engrossed in his book ‘Italian for beginners’.
12.08 pm. Steven opens his packed lunch. Pancakes! Again! In disgust he offers them to the gaffa. Benitez perks up and attacks the unexpected present. From his pocket he draws a piece of paper, crosses off ‘Aquilani’ and writes down ‘Gerrard’.
12.09 pm. Degen, who has been hovering unseen behind Rafa, leans in and tries to see if he can find his name on the sheet. He leans too far, topples and spills coffee all over the paper. Rafa cries out in anguish and quickly tries to shake the liquid off. As he holds up the paper ‘5 YEARs= 20 miLL B&G’ can be seen scrawled in green crayon on the back.
12.10 pm. As Degen apologises, he surreptitiously tries to write DEGEN in capital letters in the corner of the paper using the spilled coffee. Rafa takes the team sheet off him and orders him out to reception. He sits down and angrily crosses out ‘Degen’ and writes down ‘Reina’.
1.04 pm. The meeting resumes. It’s Bill’s turn to present his plan. Carragher is bored and joins Ryan in his keepy up attempts. Soon happy dutch shouts are joined by strong scouse; ‘1.. fuck. 1.. fuck, la. 1, 2… nearly.’
1.06 pm. David Ngog has finally finished showering. He enters the food hall with a clearly traumatised Jay in tow. Bill has had both their lunches and Glen’s as well. There is a little I.O.U. left on each plate. Spearing just crumples his up and goes to examine his nether regions in the mirror for a few hours. David carefully folds his and places it in his wallet. You never know, perhaps with some new investment he might be reimbursed.
2.34 pm. Everton bid £3.5 million for Torres!
2.35 pm. Rafa leaves the meeting to see what all the commotion is about. He finds Philip unconscious in reception with the medical team in attendance. Apparently the shock of seeing a fax come through had been too much for Degen. Rafa picks up the fax from Moysey and examines it. Bill and George look at him hopefully but he just crumples it up and tosses it in the bin.
2.39 pm . Another fax! Degen is sent home with tranquilisers. The fax is bad news on the transfer of Glen’s horse. It has been blocked by the RSPCA who refuse to allow a horse be tortured for 90 minutes by Exocet missiles launched from Carra’s boot at its neck.
2.47 pm. Having broken their keepy-up records (3 and 15 respectively) Carra and Babel decide to get some chocolate to celebrate.
2.48 pm. Once again Rafa leaves the meeting to see what the problem is. In reception Ryan is shouting that the vending machine is locked and won’t let him in, while Carragher is pegging £1 coins at the slot from the doorway. Rafa shoos them both and returns to the meeting.
3.01 pm. Having scratched all the 2,000 scratch cards that Bill brought and not won a thing, the meeting is brought to a halt. Bill and George head to their helicopters. Bill tries to catch Pacheco en route so he can sell him and cover the cost of the lottery cards. Pacheco proves too nimble for the fat buffoon, an exciting prospect for the future, no doubt about it.
3.02pm. George corners Glen’s horse and herds it into his helicopter. The trip has not been a total loss, the Gillett family will eat well tonight!
3.14 pm. A tired Rafa and Gerrard retire to the dining area for a cup of coffee.
3.45 pm. David Moyes is at the gates of Melwood. He’s asking if Mr Benitez might let Gerrard out for a bit to play, it’s just that Saha is injured again and they need one more for five-aside in the park. Rafa raises his eyebrows at Gerrard. Sighing, he picks up his boots and inflatable CL cup and limps out the door to give Moysey a hand. Sure it’s Everton, a small team with a big chip on hunched shoulders, but they’re scousers as well, right?
3.46 pm. As he leaves, Gerrard passes Ryan in the car park. He is banging on the window of his SUV. Apparently he has locked his key in and nobody told him. He quickly texts a phone number he found in the toilets at Garlands to complain.
3.47 pm. Christian Ronaldo texts back asking when they can meet up for a good time? Babel tosses his phone into the bin and decides to walk. He takes a ball because it’s his and he’s going home. As he wanders down the road his voice can be heard over the walls of Melwood…. ‘1, 2,3… smeerboel. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5….. smeerboel. 1, 2… vuil!’ On his way he doesn’t pass Messi, Kaka or Eto’o.
Been getting some texts from my mole in the Liverpool camp, he’s been a bit cagey as of late, he says he’s under pressure and frightened of being found out, I reckon he’s just used up his credit for the month.
Not a lot happening at the minute it seems, all the players are excited about the world cup and that seems to be dominating Melwood at the minute. Still, have a few texts to let you know about.
8.37 am: Mascherano pulls back the curtains to his bedroom and steps out onto the balcony to greet the blue sky. On his naked chest is a crudely drawn and slightly smudged Barcelona crest. Javier suddenly notices Insua staring at him from his window in the house opposite. Staring. Unblinking. Staring. Mascherano quickly steps back inside and hurriedly closes the curtains.
8.48 am: Mascherano exits his house and approaches his large, black and gold Porsche SUV. The license plate reads MNSTA 1. As Javier looks lovingly at his wheels he suddenly notices Insua is in his own car, sitting in the driveway, staring at Mascherano. Staring. Unblinking. Staring.
8.49 am: Mascherano leaves home, clipping the gate post and nearly hitting a pedestrian in his haste.
9.12 am: Melwood and Ryan Babel has managed to finally get through the gates with his Nissan primera. He looks tired after his 6 hour ordeal, but he is determined to make it at the club. He ponders whether he will play his latest, critically acclaimed rap album in the training ground reception.
9.19 am: A grumpy Rafa Benitez finally arrives after spending a difficult morning trying to explain to Montse how sundials work. She seemed somewhat unimpressed and kept tapping her wrist where an expensive watch would usually dangle from. It looks like Rafa will be on porridge until at least the Cocoa Cola League cup final.
9.21 am: Benitez slowly drives past the wreckage of the front gates. A car bumper is wrapped round the lock and the gates hang from their hinges. As he pulls into his parking spot beside a crumpled Nissan, the sounds of hideous caterwauling can be heard emanating from main building.
9.43 am: and Claire Rourke arrives to interview the players for LFCTV. Gerrard limps over carrying an inflatable CL trophy under one arm and a plastic Jules Rimet Trophy under the other. Every ten yards he stops to put down his blow-up toy and raise the plastic cup over his head, two-handed.
9.44 am: and Claire is sobbing uncontrollably after seeing Torres’s new do. A proud Jamie Carragher explains that he was the one who had recommended the hairdresser to Fernando.
9.45 am: and Javier arrives after a morning trying to lose Insua in traffic. He finally shook him off after going around two roundabouts in reverse. As he pulls in to park he suddenly spies Insua parked beside the only available space. Staring. Unblinking. Staring. Javier spins out the car park, dinking Babel’s car in the process. I think he may have left for the World Cup early.
10.15 am: And its Jay Spearing’s turn to answer some questions. Claire seems a little thrown by his white tuxedo and the roses he keeps trying to give her every 30 seconds. A drip of sweat flows down his cheek and creates an unpleasant mix with the copious amount of Brut he has splashed on his face.
10.16 am: and David Ngog finally finishes showering. Claire excitedly runs over to him with a panicked Jay trailing in her wake.
10.17 am: Of course David Ngog would be happy to answer some questions, David’s mum has always been very keen on polite friendly relations with the press. Yes, David Ngog is single, no, David Ngog has never had exciting doggy style action, he has never been to Crufts, yes David Ngog would be happy to go back to Claire’s place for some dinner and a massage, David’s mum has always stressed how massages are very important for a professional player.
10.18 am: and a simpering Claire asks David if he knows any good tricks on the pitch. David pauses for a moment thoughtfully, before suddenly leaning forward 45 degrees without falling over. Claire is suitably impressed. A crestfallen jay wanders off to look at his nether regions for a few hours. As he ponders the inhumanity of man there is no thoughts of Milito, Milner or Materazzi joining LFC.
The arrival of a new manager has my mole all busy and excited again... he (she?) has texted me some of the morning activities...
8.59 Roy arrives at Melwood in his souped up Rover 10. It's white with a red cross across the roof. The license plate reads FLHAMS 1. The letters have been crossed out and ENGLNDS in green crayon has been scrawled above it. This in turn has been crossed out and LPOOL in red crayon been written above that in tiny, squashed letters.
9.01 and Hodgson meets his first problem of his tenure. A weeping Babel is hanging off the gate begging to be let in to play. Roy leaps from his car and calls out... "Wyan... WYAN... push, don't pull, push, Wyan."
9.11 An enthusiastic security guard, eager to please the new coach, arrives with a vintage Bordeaux left behind by the Special One last time he called... A frustrated hodgson trying to pry Babel's fingers loose gives him a baleful look...
9.49 and an already exhausted Roy finally enters Melwood. He attempts to park his car in the reserved space with the 'Gaffa' sign, but Stevie G's Bentley is already there. the only free space left is currently occupied by Insua... not by his car, but by Insua himself. Staring. unblinking. Staring.
9.50 Roy parks diagonally, careful not to disturb the unmoving Argentinian. "Not at the World Cup with the rest of the team then, ha ha? I got back early as well, ha ha". Insua says nothing but continues to watch Roy. Staring. Unblinking. Staring. Hodgson hurriedly moves into the building.
9.51 he passes Degen's tent in the reception area, as he still awaits the mysterious fax that will determine his future. Roy makes a mental note to explain to Philip the difference between a fax machine and a printer.
10.01 and a lost Roy accidentally stumbles into the food hall. A brooding Jamie Carragher is ranting at Steven Gerrard about Matthew Upson.
Gerrard looks thoroughly miserable; his inflatable Euro Cup he has carried all this time is all worn out and the inflatable world cup is punctured beyond repair. All that and she has packed him pancakes for lunch again! He sighs and opens up his 'Spanish for dummies' textbook. "Estes es no mi bambino" he utters "La chica no estaba 18 Snr policeman? Que sorpresa!" he says out loud.
10.02 Roy decides to break the ice... "Gewwawd, Cawwa, how aw you, I'm Hodgson, the new Managew"
10.03 Roy quickly departs from two confused scousers with the social iceberg completely untouched
10.15 And Hodgson finally finds his office. He merely followed his nose and the stink of lies led him to the two owners. They are standing outside his door, air-washing their greasy mitts. Tom tries to sneak a receipt from Manchester City for Torres and Gerrard into his pocket, but tangles with George who is trying to pick it. Roy shoos them both and opens the door.
10.16 Insua is standing behind the door waiting for him. Staring. Unblinking. Staring.
10.17 and Roy has locked himself into the cleaners cupboard with a pencil and paper. To the light of a match he considers the team... "Wiewa, Wyan, Mascewano, Gewwawd, Cawwa, Towwes, Aggew, Diwk, Weina, Skwtel... damn, why so many wrrs? Damn you Wafa, this will be hawdew than I thought..."
Wow, all happening at the club now, the texts from my mole have come thick and fast…
8.15 am and kindly Roy Hodgson prepares for a difficult day ahead. He’s the head honcho now and its up to him to tell the players who’s staying and who’s going. It will need a firm hand and a stern mentalidad to get through this. The Hodge opens his wardrobe and gets out his glove puppets…
8.54 am and kindly Roy is parked outside Melwood. He is dreading what comes next and is trying to work up the courage to drive through the entrance. As he sits in his car role-playing with his glove puppets, he watches in amazement as Ryan Babel smashes through the gates in his new Hummer. Guess he’s back from holidays.
8.59 am The Hodge is surveying the destruction wrought by the speedy Dutch left -winger… striker… right-winger… substitute. As he examines the now buckled barrier he spies a small boy with boots tied around his neck. Roy smiles indulgently and pulls a werther’s original from his pocket. He ruffles the small boys hair and presses the tasty toffee chew into his small palm.
9.01 am and Liverpool’s new signing Joe Cole enters chewing the sweety the boss just gave him at the gate. Things could be pretty nice here he reckons!
9.05 am Roy pulls into the carpark. Stevie’s Bentley is parked in the ‘Mother and child’ parking spot. A young girl is seated in the passenger seat resolutely ignoring Ryan Babel’s attempts to open the door so she can hear his new rap single ‘4UPFRONT4POOL’. Roy is relieved to see his captain is back once more!
9.26 am and Roy still hasn’t got out of his car. Insua is standing outside his window looking in at him. Staring. Unblinking. Staring. Finally Roy winds down the window and via the medium of glove puppetry, explains to Insua that he is bound for Fiorentina. Emilio looks back impassively. Staring. Unblinking. Staring. Then, almost imperceptibly, a small tear forms in the corner of his eye and rolls down his cheek.
9.28 am Emboldened Roy enters the reception and approaches Degen. After a 15 minute glove puppet show which included dragons and knights in shining armour, Philip still seems a little confused. Every now and then he nervously glances over at the fax machine.
9.49 am and Roy gives up and goes to his office. From here he sends a fax to reception saying “DEAW FILUP, U NEED 2 FIND A NEW CLUB, LOV Hodgson”
10.01 am and a slightly puzzled Degen has gone to JJB to get a new golf putter. A sighing Hodge decides it will hold for another day. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a mobile phone. He rings Javier put only gets voice mail. Again! That’s 50 times now….
10.02 am Roy decides to text Mascherano. MASH, WELL DUN ON WC… R U AVOIDING ME? WE NEED TO MEET SOON… WAT ARE U WEARING RITE NOW? IS IT SEXY? I BET ITS SEXY.. I MISS U BAD, CALL ME… Hodgson
10.27 am the first training session begins anew…!
10.29 am The first training session ends amid acrimony. Carra and Wilson have already had an untranslatable shouting match that neither man has understood, Stevie keeps stopping to weep about his punctured World Cup trophy, Colesy refuses to move fron the centre spot, Jay Spearing has become distracted by the sight of Claire Rourke Clinging to David Ngog whenever he tries to run, Dirk keeps running laps around the pitch ignoring the ball and Aquilani has slipped away for a crafty swim...
10.33 am On the sideline the Hodge puts his glove puppets down and sighs inwardly. He reaches over and tries to help Ryan Babel disentangle himself from the side of the dug-out. This could be even more difficult than he had anticipated. In his minds eye he dreams of signing Murphy, Dempsey and konchy.
Well, with the 6 potential bids for the club on the table it seems that my mole has gotten a lot of new info on the comings and goings at the club! Here are some texts and tweets he has been sending, hopefully some on here can make sense of them...
9.48 am and Roy is busy with his glove puppets supervising the erection of a huge 'WELCOME BACK NANDO, LA' banner at the entrance to Melwood. This has led to a badly confused Ryan Babel to lap the complex for the third time. Finally he chooses to smash through the wall of the ground with his Hummer, running into Soto in the process. Luckily both Babel and the heavy vehicle aren't badly damaged.
9.49 am The Greek brushes some cogs off his shoulder and in training for the second leg of the Europa cup, he proceeds to boot Amoo into the air for the third time this morning. Amoo has decided that this is the worse game of keepy-ups ever.
10.11 am Having successfully glued the banner over the gate, a satisfied Hodgson wanders into reception where a feverish Degen is clutching a recently purchased Titleist pro sand wedge to his chest. Roy sighs and silently wishes he had never told Philip that a new club would be the key to his future.
10.19 am and a bemused Hodge stares at the scene outside his office. Apparently the American tycoons have barricaded themselves into the office and are refusing to leave. At the door an irrate Chinese businessman is trying to tempt them out with some spring rolls and sweet and sour pork dishes.
10.22 am and Joe Cole tugs shyly at Mr Huang's sleeve. "Excuse me Mister can you teach me some Kung Fu? Its just that I'm frightened that the big boys at my new club might pick on me, particularly that Greek feller, he keeps trying to rub feta cheese and seasoning into my hair"
10.23 am Kenneth leaves the Americans alone temporarily to pass some sage advice to Colesy. First come the basics, dragon-fist, rising-phoenix, the swan, the crane, the turtle, the speedy gonzales. This is followed by some more advanced techniques, the Souness windmills-with-keys-between-fingers, the Babb crotch-splitter and finally the ultimate move, the Stevie disco-face-stab, where you pull the top over a rubbish DJs face before knocking his lights out and blaming your buddies. A happy Joe wanders off to try his new moves out on Jay Spearing.
10.48 am and as Stevie G tries to enter the food hall he is forced to sidestep Jay Spearing as he is sent flying through the air. As the midfield mastro crashes to the ground a screaming Joe Cole exits the food hall wildly flailing his fists and trying to boot Jay in the family jewels. Roy Hodgson rushes from reception where he has been involved in a confused puppet show with Philip Degen and quickly brings proceedings to a halt. The unconscious form of Jay Spearing is brought outside to get some air.
10.51 am Gerrard finally limps into the breakfast area where Dirk is enjoying a tasty pike. A despondent captain sits down beside the dutchman and examines a text message sent by the former Liverpool manager. HOLA STEVIE, MENTALIDAD. COME TO INTER, FACT! BTW, WHATS 4 LUNCH? Without even opening his lunchbox a morose Stevie types PANCAKES and presses send...
11.15 am Huge excitement! Wayne Rooney has been seen driving into Melwood! What does this mean? What could be happening, surely a controversial and possibly unwelcome transfer is not about to occur!!!
11.16 am and it all becomes clearly. Apparently the fat fool saw the banner and though he was stopping into Nando's for six buckets of chicken wings and a gallon of coke. Aquilani spins a clever ball through the gates and Wayne runs after it with his wee tongue flopping around either side of his mouth...
120.1 am and Torres finally arrives back to training! What a relief! The messiah enters the gates on a small donkey while the Hodge sprinkles branches of palm leaves in his path. Slipping off the back of his beast of burden he walks over to the still comatose form of Jay Spearing. Torres passes his hand over Jay's face and he regains consciousness! a miracle!
12.02 am Fernando regally walks towards a down in the dumps Gerrard. From his pocket he takes an inflatable European cup with 2012 written on it! Gerrard's mood visibly lifts and he is soon limping about raising his new hope high over his head. Another miracle!
12.03 am The divine one approaches Carragher and rubs his right ankle. He then instructs Jamie to try a short pass to an expectant Pacheco...
12.03 and 5 seconds later am Pacheco is lifted off his feet as a scud from Carra's boot catches him square in the neck. Oh well, I guess some things are beyond even the power of Fernando to cure. As a concussed Pacheco sees stars none of them are Messi, Xavi or Iniesta....
In the slightly feverish atmosphere surrounding the club there has been unprecedented transfer activity at Melwood. Unfortunately as the latest shocking revelations from my mole will show, most of these have been in one direction only... worrying times for the team, and, as it happens, for my mole too...!
8.37 am The Hodge leaves home for Melwood once again. His temper is poor, not aided by the difficulty of driving through early morning traffic wearing glove puppets. Roy has been forced to use them far too frequently of late as he has struggled to get his ideas across to the players. Take his latest formation for example, which has been to place Mascherano in the center of the pitch and then get all the players to lie on top of him to stop him escaping the club before the transfer window shuts...
8.57 am and Roy finally arrives to find the gates are now missing. For a moment Roy thinks that Ryan has got to Melwood early, but then realises that the security guard and his box are also missing... It seems George and Tom have sold them!
8.59 am and Roy pulls into a nearly deserted car park. The players cars are all gone, the plaques... even the white lines are missing! The only sign of life in the car park is a now frantic Mascherano trying to reverse out while Insua hangs onto the car bonnet for grim life, refusing to let him go. Staring at Mascherano in the driving seat. Unblinking. Staring. Hodgson quickly leaps from his car, leans in the window and rabbit punches Javier unconscious. He then pulls him from the car and uses some duct tape to lash him onto Insua... who stares at the gaffer. Blinks. Stares... and nods his understanding. It seems Javier might not be going anywhere just yet....
9.03 am and an already exhausted Hodge heads for the main building. Out of the corner of his eye he suddenly spots two fat shadows scuttling around the corner dragging what appears to be a corpse of a Chinese businessman with them... nervously Roy enters reception.
9.04 am Sighing Roy looks at the spot where Degen's tent used to be... gone now, after a particularly long punch and Judy show.... also gone are the receptionists desk, the receptionist, the doors the window.... As Roy quickly runs to his office he hears sounds like someone is trying to lever the roof off...
9.07 am On his way, Roy passes the pool. He looks in and sees a large Aquilani shaped hole in the water where normally Alberto would be happily paddling around.... there is also a large water shaped hole in the water, apparently the owners have sold that as well... bloody shake man sure. he'll buy anything.
9.08 am and with some relief Roy hauls open the door of his office... only to see the training grounds beyond it! they have sold the walls and all. In panic Roy runs to the food hall to round up anyone he can see. In side he spies Dirk in tight leather pants, massive sunglasses and with his hair greased back, sipping a cappucino and saying 'ciao!' repeatedly to a non-responsive Wilson.
9.10 am and it seems Wilson is not talking to anyone. A blindingly fast round of glove puppetry later and Hodgson learns the American owners have Wilson auditioning for Tom Hank's new movie, a sequel to Castaway. All Wilson has to do is sit still and say nothing for 2 hours. Apparently Carragher failed the audition after 30 seconds.
9.11 am a now terrified Hodgson herds all the remaining players and staff onto the main pitch and starts nailing, taping and tying everything to everyone before it gets sold.
9.41 am After half an hour of feverish weffort Roy looks proudly at his handiwork while occasionally checking his pocket to see if his wallet is still there. The middle of the pitch is dominated by a large bundle of duct tape consisting of Gerrard, Torres, Agger, 2 inflatable cups, a goalkeeper and a hairy Brazilian. Averting his eyes Roy promises Pepe he will get his goalkeeper shorts back as soon as possible. From the center of the bundle Pacheco's sporadic screams can be heard as Carragher instinctively tries to boot a 50 yard pass at his ear.
To the left of the group David Ngog continues to look forlornly at his now clearly useless i.o.u. It seems that there is such a thing as a free lunch after all. The only person who seems quite happy with this turn of events is Claire Rouke as she continues to cling to what I continue to hope is David's leg. Jay Spearing looks particularly perturbed by his situation since either Claire has a hold of what she's always dreamed of or he's been tied to something that he has had a lot of bad dreams about...
9.52 am and the plan to disguise Joe Cole as a small school boy has failed horribly, as the ruse has only served to attract a hawk-nosed Frenchman who keeps offering him sweets and asking him to come back to London to play with him. Oblivious to all this is Soto who wanders past playing keepy-uppy with a massive ball consisting of tape, David Amoo and De Valle. Soto also seems oblivious to the fact that someone has nailed a goalpost and 4 corner flags to him.
9.53 am Martin is happily crushing training cones and booting scared reserves about the pitch. Every now and then he throws a hungry glance at Torres's donkey, stapled to his thigh, and starts licking his lips in anticipation. The donkey looks quite nervous and so he should be, Martin seems to find donkey lips quite tasty.
9.58 am In fact the only person who is completely unfazed is Ryan Babel, since nobody has bothered to even glue a button on his shirt. Apparently even the Americans can't find a buyer for the dutch rapper, or even sign him up to a record deal for that matter. With the freedom of the pitch Babel is having the training session of his life. He has already scored five times, assisted by the fact that Brad Jones has been lashed to a barbecue. As babel once more bears down on the entire youth team (which has been sellotaped to the crossbar) there is no sign of him being joined by Milito, Zlatan or Ron... IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BUY THIS PHONE PLEASE CALL OR TXT TOM OR GEORGE AT 1800 LIVPOOL4SALE
Gosh, it would appear even my mole has run out of luck and phones by the looks of it. I can't shake the feeling that this might be the last update of this transfer window...
Welcome to 2011 everyone! A new window and a new round of exciting possibilities for my mole! However, all is not well at camp Melwood, as the following texts will testify.
9.00 am and 00.00000 seconds and Roy arrives at Melwood to an eerie silence. In recent months the previously cuddly Hodge has undergone something of a transformation, showing that beneath the velvety hand puppets lay an iron fist. Quite literally an iron fist, while the other hand has a hook... arrrr. The Hodge has also taken to wearing a leather jacket, leather chaps, and an eyepatch. As he swings through the gate in his new 4X4 black hummer with a skull and crossbones on the bonnet his new license plate 'BAD2DB0NE' gleams in the crisp morning air...
9.00 am and 30 seconds and the new security guard peeps over the edge of his security box, cautiously eying Roy as he parks diagonally across both the invalid and mother and baby parking slots. Oblivious to the security barrier now jammed in his bumper, Hodgson goosesteps into reception, the crash of his twenty holes docs reverberating around the training ground.
9.10 am and Pacheco, encouraged by the Bob the security guard's promises that the bad man is gone away, crawls out from underneath the security box counter and scurries toward the changing rooms. Ever since he single handedly lost the game to Northampton by not being a 6' 4" hybrid of Heskey and Garrincha, Dani has been keeping a low profile. Desperate to make a good impression on his employers, Pacheco decides to get in some early morning practice...
9.11 am Ryanbabel @ #lfc 'where is everyone?'
9.15 am The Hodge is in a foul mood, stomping through the now bare corridors of Liverpool's training center. After the previous owners had sold everything not nailed down, the facilities at Melwood are somewhat lacking. In the gym all the weights have been sold and Soto is forced to bench press a scared looking Amoo and Eccleston. Nathan is looking particularly scared. The big Greek wis down to his last donkey leg and every tenth lift he keeps dipping Nathan into a large bowl of garlic mayonnaise. A dizzy and nauseous Eccleston keeps trying to text his agent to get a loan deal approved asap.
9.16 am Roy is thankful for small mercies. Although the water in the swimming pool had been sold, the lead on the roof has also disappeared, allowing the plentiful leaks in the ceiling to refill the pool. As the Hodge looks on, Poulsen is very, very slowly doggy paddling around in the water. When Roy remembers the graceful and efficient strokes that Aquilani had used that allowed him to speedily and incisively move about the pool, Hodgson knows his decision to replace the artisan Italian was a good one. Pleased Roy furiously rubs his chin....
9.16 and 10 seconds Having forgotten that his hand is now a hook and having scarred his scrotum like chin for the for the 51st time this morning, an angry Roy stomps off to look for his second in command.
9.32 am and Sammi Goebbels, sorry Sammi Lee, is practicing his smile in the the mirror in the gents. As his lips attempt to approximate a rictus grin on his face, a worried Sammi tries out his spiel."You are a great manager, boss". "Can't beat 30 years of experience in this game boss". "Your tactics are applicable from heavy weight boxing to paragliding, boss". "It was a tactical withdrawal from Stalingrad, boss". "All the boys are behind Der Fuhrer, boss". With knives he didn't add. As the frantic bellows of the raging Hodge reach their crescendo, Sammi nervously sellotapes the corners of his lips to his ears...
9.39 am Ryanbabel @ #lfc 'At the training ground. These new players are terrible. Not 1 striker.'
9.47 am With a desperately gurning Sammi in tow, The Hodge heads to the epicenter of operations. With his office sold to some chicken farmers from India, Roy has been forced to dig a large hole in the ground where his desk used to be, and cover it with some galvanize. Safe in his bunker, The Hodge spends 2 hours ranting at a glassy-eyed Sammi, outlining his plans for world domination using his new super players
10.21 am TRANSFER NEWS?!? Two baseball players are seen wondering the hallowed halls of Melwood! Is this some new radical departure in tactics and style by Roy?
10.23 am No, it's the new owners, come to survey the wreckage wrought by the Cowboys. Horrified by what they see, they move quickly to meet the manager, to see what his plans for the team are. As they peep under the galvanize, the Hodge is banging a map on the wall. Its a map of Manchester surrounded by pictures of panzer tanks driven by Torres and Gerrard. As they back away, one of the the baseball players can be seen dropping his bat and urgently phoning a recruiting agent...
10.49 am and as the panicked owners leave Melwood at speed, a fat man with a bad goatee is seen trying to scale the walls. Considering its a garden wall opposite the training ground its a particularly pathetic effort by the unemployed Spaniard.
11.04 am Ryanbabel @ #lfc ' Best training session ever, running rings around these Forrest Gumps!'
11.47 am Roy has finally calmed down. As Sammi wipes phlegm from his face, the boss and his minion prepare to train the team.
11.48 am The Hodge pulls on his new bad ass glove puppets. One is dressed in an SS uniform, the other has a gimp suit on. Pleased Roy rubs his chin furiously, creating his 52nd scar that day. Angrily he farts and smells it with his iron fingers.
11.52 am a bleeding Roy approaches the training pitches
11.52 and 30 seconds am and the Hodge falls into a trench surrounding the pitch. Ignoring his now prone boss, Dirk resolutely continues to jog lap after lap around the ground, creating an ever deeper boundary trench.
11.53 am and as the Hodge peers over the edge of his new, elongated dug-out he can see Skrtel wearing his new snood and mincing around the pitch. Ever since Roy helped him get in touch with his feminine side, Martin has been like a different player. A weak girly one who feebly tries to avoid tackles and refuses to header the ball in case it dirties his skinhead.
11.55 am On the wing Pacheco has a shoulder mounted camera and a small LCD screen in front of his face. As Carragher launches ball after ball at Dani, he randomly runs about using the camera to track the trajectory of the airborne missile, before finally trying to bring it under control with the back of his neck. In the carpark a forlorn Torres waits for a chance to be created by his team mates. He has been very glum since Soto polished off his odd-toed ungulate. As tumbleweed blows by Torres whips out his 'Catalan for beginners' from his sock. Worse. Shin guards. ever.
12.00 am In the middle of the pitch a limping Gerrard watches balls sailing over his head. Beside him a bald headed Portuguese puppy with its tongue hanging out runs from the middle of the park to the right wing, back to the middle of the park and then to the right wing... As the game passes the midfield by, Stevie pretends not to hear the increasingly frantic cries in broken English from outside Melwood.
12.01 am "HOLA STEVIE, MENTALIDAD. WHY DON'T YOU RETURN MY CALLS, FACT? ARE YOU IGNORING ME? I THOUGHT WE HAD SOMETHING SPECIAL, FOCUS!" sighing, Rafa rests his considerable rump on the garden wall. As he settles down to his lonely vigil outside the gate, Honda, Elia and Mertesacker are but a hopeful gleam in his eye.
12.02 am Ryanbabel @ #lfc I've ended up at Finch Farm by mistake, haven't I... Dammit!
Well gosh, since its all been a bit topsy turvy my mole has been too excited to text me some updates. Now his hands have stopped shaking with excitement (he's met genuine royalty, not the fake shit you are born into. Lets see your medals, biatch) he's finally gotten around to texting me with a few new tidbits
888888888888888888888888888888.... sorry, he (or is it a she...?) stills seems a bit excited. lets try again
8.55 am and a dour looking man with a big jacket and a face so craggy birds could nest in it, casually approaches the entrance to Melwood. His eyes are haunted, he's seen things no mere mortal should ever witness, the final, unedited Roy Hodgson press interview. As the grumpy looking Scot approaches the entrance he spies a dehydrated and hungry looking Spaniard weeping inconsolably outside the gates. Moved with compassion (he too understands what it means to have unfinished business at Liverpool) he offers the ex-gaffer his breakfast and promises to knock them off their f'ing perch.
9.35 am and after a long and stinted conversation (It is a bottle, si? With white, yes? it is therefore Milk, Fact? You will knock Blackpool off their perch??? Mentalidad.), made all the more difficult by a clash of civilizations (Halting pidgin English meets undecipherable Scots Brogue) Kenny takes a deep breath and crosses into Melwood.
9.36 am where a long running party still seems to be in full flow. In the car park Torres is still dancing and clicking his fingers. Dalglish approaches a nonplussed Fernando, the last time he was approached by kings it was his birthday and they were carrying gold, frankincense and Myrrh. Not to be outdone, Kenny promises "stick with me, el kid, it'll be silver all the way"
9.38 am Ryanbabel @ #lfc shake my head
9.39 am Kenny walks through reception, salutes the prostrate and bowing ground staff and walks through to the food hall. Here a festive mood can also be felt with Claire Rourke trying to fasten some mistletoe to a nervous looking David Ngog's belt. The only sour note is struck by Carragher as Stevie G is repeatedly trying to double high five him. Perhaps Carra's shoulder injury is still playing up.
While he thinks no one is looking, Carra pulls out a mangy looking wallet he has had in his pocket since he was five. Brushing aside his communion money, he sneaks one last, lingering look at a picture of the Hodge, still dressed in his leather chaps, with a glue-on mustache and biker hat. Sighing he chucks it into the bin. In retrospect maybe it wasn't such a hot thing after all.
10.01 am and the king finally finds Sammi cowering in the remains of the oberFuhrer the Hodge's makeshift bunker. In the corner the remains of two badass hand puppets smoulder in the ashes of one England managers dreams. Sammy quickly leaps to his feet, sellotape still clinging to his cheeks. As he weeps and rends his shirt, he tries to explain that he was only following orders. Kenny merely points to the training pitches and suggests that the assistant manager assemble the troops.
As Sammi scuttles away, Kenny looks over at the half-burned glove puppets. Hmmm, perhaps he can find a use for those, to bridge the divide between Scots English and players with no English, like that Babel fella.
10.02 am Ryanbabel @ #lfc Staring. Unblinking. Staring. Not shaking his head.
10.11 am Having discarded the idea of glove puppets for now, Kenny walks out to the training pitches and suddenly a maddened, salivating figure leaps on the King and starts biting his neck !!! TRANSFER NEWS !!!! has Suarez finally arrived for a medical? Not sure he'll pass it with rabies.
10.12 am Not Suarez unfortunately, just a very relieved Pacheco finally coming out of hiding from behind the bike shed. As he clings to Kenny he keeps babbling about 'El Diablo, El Diablo'. Kenny makes a mental note to reduce Pacheco's sugar intake.
10.13 am and training has not yet started. Instead an extended conga line has formed behind the oblivious Dutch gold Kuyty, as the players celebrate the departure of Team England's new manager. For now Kenny doesn't intrude, a 20 mile conga jog should get the players a few yards fitter.
10.27 am Ryanbabel @ #lfc Shaking my ass, BRAP, BRAP, HENCH
11.43 am and the now exhausted players line up for some technical coaching from the King. However, problems arise straightaway when Kenny quickly realises that their is only one set of goals, the other one has disappeared. Apparently the Hodge had never bothered to use them, since scoring goals was frowned upon. Some bald Portugese slaphead who has been continuously darting to the right of the pitch explains that he has never even heard that their is another half to the pitch, never mind a second set of goals. A frustrated Kenny goes in search of the Holy grail.
11.52 am It appears that a hungry Soto has been using the nets to trawl the swimming pool for lunch. So far all he has caught is an unappetizing Danish red herring. A disgusted Kenny advises him to chuck it back. As Poulsen splashes face first into the water there is no sign of him being rescued by a Japanese motor, a dangerous Belgian or cheating Argie.
12.01 am Ryanbabel @ #lfc Hoff and who want to give me £7 million? Shake my hand!
Well, what an exciting transfer window. As we welcome our new most expensive player ever, you have to wonder if our old most expensive player ever is on his way out? Talking of players on the way out.... Anyway, amidst a blur of tears I read my moles latest updates and was fascinated to hear that he/she had managed to get the opinions of our newest signings, almost verbatim! Just as the Guardian is running player inspired pieces, the latest updates from Melwood show an insight into the mind of our new Uruguayan. I wonder what he makes of it all?
8.55 am. Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die. My apologies. No one under 35 will get that. I will start again. Hello. My name is Luis Alberto Suárez. I am Liverpool's newest signing, and I am very afraid. Although Liverpool FC is one of the greatest clubs in Europe, I am told the city is a hotbed of crime, unemployment and vandalism. I approach the training ground with excitement, yet some trepidation.
8.59 am and as I walk towards the Melwood training grounds I am mugged by a fat vagrant. The homeless one with bad facial hair steals my lunchbox. After wolfing down the contents he begins to examine my bottle of milk. As he tries to determine the contents of the bottle he is roundly abused by two unemployed locals. The bald one keeps pulling out his pants and shouting "pack it in here, Charlotte, pack it in here". Meanwhile the short one that resembles a poorly shaved gorilla leaps up and down behind him screaming "smash it, smash it.. I would smash it!". I am very afraid.
9.03 am As I walk through the mangled remains of the gates what appears to be the remains of a stolen and abandoned car still burns brightly.Thousands of unsold (stolen?) cds called 'Ryan's Raddest raps' spill out the boot and litter the ground around the vehicle. Tears well in my eyes as I stare at the unfilled potential strewn like so much detritus. A silent tear rolls down my cheek. I wonder where the owner is?
9.04 am Ryanbabel @ #lfc Still no sign of Hoff. I'm beginning to regret wearing the Knight Ryder t-shirt now. Worst move ever. smh.
9.08 am As I walk through the car park two scallies appear to be attacking a Spanish tourist. As I watch in horror the one with the sling has his foot on the Spaniard's back as he tries to haul a blue football shirt off of him. Whenever the tourist tries to escape the abuse the other thug verbally intimidates him while repeatedly beating him with a half-deflated plastic CL cup. I fear the Hispanic man may not escape before the transfer window shuts. I am very afraid.
9.12 am As I walk through reception many people are there bowing and scraping. It appears a cult has established itself on this hallowed ground. Behind them someone has left a golf club, a tent, a burnt-out campfire and a broken fax machine to mirror his broken dreams. I sigh deeply.
9.15 am And I am approached by a sandpaper faced man who appears to be wearing a tent. Perhaps it is fashionable around here? Behind him is a gnome with sellotape on his face who offers me a ghastly grin. In the spirit of new friendship I decide to give him my most winning smile, showing him my full and wholesome dentures.
9.15am and 10 seconds The hobbit runs screaming in fear from the reception area. The cult leader curses gutturally before face palming. He does not fart and smell his fingers thankfully. Instead he reaches into his voluminous apparel and pulls forth a can of Vimto and a scotch egg. He offers them to me and it is with some relief I accept my new breakfast. we leave for the food hall with chants of "god save the king" echoing in our ears.
9.22 am. As I walk through the doors of the food area I come face to face with a half naked young Scottish player. He is dressed in nothing but a skirt and a bloody red hand painted on his face. He does not move or speak.The cult leader tries to catch his attention by waving his hand in front of the boy's face. "Wilson, Wilson, they were lying, there is no Castaway 2...". The boy remains unresponsive however, will we ever see him grace the pitch again?
I look away from this sad scene and spy a tall Greek attempting to quietly and surreptitiously eat one of the u 18s. As the screams of the youngster ring out, the leader leaves off trying to attract the attention of Wilson and instead attempts to stop the big defender before he can chew through to bone. As he scolds the big Greek I empathize. I too have felt the unmistakable urge to ignore social taboos and feast on human flesh.... though not my own team mates and never with a bucket of Hellmann's mayonnaise in one hand.
9.32 am and 'Kenny' as he tells me his name is, decides to show me the facilities. He takes me to what appears to be a canal. An old used goalpost and netting floats in the middle of the rainwater, vying for space with what appears to be a dead body. As I watch in growing horror it slowly moves and a blond head slowly emerges. In amazement I watch as a great Dane slowly but with great determination doggy paddles up and down. Kenny hurriedly grabs my shoulder and we leave this bizarre sight behind. I am very afraid.
9.42 am Ryanbabel @ #lfc God, the language here is really difficult to understand and everybody looks in bread.They look in it for sausages. Very strange. Smh.
9.57 am and I am ready for my first training session. As I round the corner I am treated to the sight of what appears to be an enormous moat running around the edge of the pitch. A blob of blond hair rhythmically bobs up and down from inside the moat. I look into the moat and spy an enthusiastic Dutch man joyfully running lap after lap around the pitch. As I watch in fascination, a bald headed Portuguese player with his tongue hanging out runs up the middle of the pitch. Suddenly, for no apparent reason he veers off to the right and falls into the moat in front of the oblivious Dutch Gold. His screams as he is trampled are excruciating. I am very afraid.
10.31 am and its a very tough session. We are playing a full game and it is 0-0. The ball has yet to touch the ground in over half an hour. On one side a Slovakian who resembles Nosferatu kicks the ball into the air. It goes the full length of the pitch to where the angry and hungry Greek man receives the ball and kicks it back. My neck hurts from looking up. To my right a weeping teenager is using state of the art equipment to try to track the trajectory of the ball. I am very afraid.
10.48 am Ryanbabel @ #lfc Football here is very different to what I'm used to. Training was just taking turns punching each other in the face. My head is still shaking.
11.00 am Suddenly, with only a minute left in the game the ball hits the young Spaniard in the neck and spins crazily toward our goal. I realize that there is only one thing I can do to stop our team losing. I leap through the air like a salmon on speed and punch the ball away to safety. There is a palpable silence before the whispers start "It's just like Henchoz, it's the new Henchoz..." they keep saying. Suddenly there is a tremendous cheer. My new team mates group around me, lift me up and carry me shoulder high around the pitch. I am exalted. I am elated. I am no longer afraid. From my newly elevated position I can nearly see Benzema, Lukaku and Young
11.10 am Ryanbabel @ #lfc Everybody left on the bus because no one in the team has much money. Wait a minute...Christ I'm at Finch Farm again, aren't I? Dammit.
Summer in the city and not a cloud on the horizon now Hanzel and Gretel got offed in an epic swindle. Good times are ready to roll once more and in the euphoric mood surrounding the camp my mole has become active once more (there have been suggestions it might actually be the Stig!). So with a lighter heart than usual, here are some of the first texts filtering through...
8.55 am and a smooth, cosmopolitan Jay Spearing approaches the training grounds. How fortunes have changed for the shy retiring schoolboy of yesteryear. Gone is the brut, the stammer and frightened demeanour. Now he is a man of action, a mature midfielder beloved by the Kop Massive. A super confident Jay struts up to the brand new, sping spangly shiney undamaged gates of Melwood.
As he swishes his pimp cane about and runs an appreciative hand through his well-groomed, well-brylcreemed, zero inch haircut, Jay ruminates on his new found position of respect within the senior squad. Carra no longer uses him as a corner flag when practicing his short passing game, Martin has stopped sharpening his studs on his teeth, even Claire Rourke, the minx, has been throwing him some thoughtful looks as of late. Life is good for the new Gattuso.
8.59 am and as Spearso approaches the gates he is accosted by a shifty looking Scottish tramp. A thin, hungry looking man with enormous bulbous eyes, ginger hair like a scrubbing bush, wooden shoes, wooden socks a wooden cardigan and a pink primark tee shirt with the word ‘cnahg’ spelled out in sellotape on the chest.
‘ello son, my but yer a fit ‘un, arnt yea?’... ‘do you like toffees son? I av a big bag of em ear in me ‘and would you like one?’ As Jay attempts to shake off the clingy Celt, the vagrant suddenly bends over and grabs Jaytussos right calf. ‘My, what a muscley lad you are. I likes my lads with muscles. No brains just muscles. Are you sure you don’t want toffee? Everyone likes toffee, it’s the people’s favourite, innit. I have loads of toffees at my gaffe, Australian, Belgian, slovely is toffee. I can’t afford anymore though, you should come back wid me, weel make luly toffah together.
9.15 am and Gennaro Spearing finally tosses the tramp off... er, finally shakes loose the unwanted attention of the tramp by throwing £10 at him. With a parting shot of “and go buy some pants for godsakes” Jay scuttles in to Melwood reception.
9.16 am and a half-naked Moyesy grabs the tenner, leaps into the air and clicks his heels together. With his transfer budget finally sorted, it looks like it could be a big year on the Everton transfer front.
9.22 am Meanwhile the Melwood reception area is in a state of chaos. Flanno is hiding under the counter weeping and wailing and gibbering about ghosts and banshees and six-foot pizza slices with the face of a man and the legs of a god. Most of the youth team are also in varying states of shock.
It seems an enormous, black, disembodied head has been seen floating around Melwood. ‘It’s the ghost of Babel past’ cries Flanno and buries his head under the counter. A bemused Kenny Dalglish is in attendance and half-heartedly tries to explain that there is life after Liverpool, but even he seems unconvinced by that argument.
9.35 am and an advanced scouting party of Dalglish, Sammi Lee and el Pistolero agree to head out and recce the training grounds. As they approach the pitches they suddenly spy an enormous head on top of the wall of Melwood. The mouth on the head suddenly breaks into a smile and it speaks “Hi guys, I’m your new owner, I came down here to give you some training tips.” After this short, but promising speech Le Bron James steps over Melwood walls and bends down to shake their hands.
Suarez desperately shows the giant his biggest grin. Sammi Lee just screams in terror and flees. Is it the giant or the teeth? Who can tell, both are pretty impressive. Kenny just looks on impassively, he’s seen it all before, he’s seen just about everything before, just not Kaka, Hazard or Honda in a Liverpool strip.
Calm down..
