Slipperduke
The Camden Cad
Beep beep! Come on Ronaldo, I'll drive you to the airport myself. It's long past time you left. I've had enough of the diving, the whining, the cheating, the feigning, the petulant tantrums and the rolling around on the ground and, you know what? I doubt I'm the only one. On behalf of my fellow countrymen, I'd like to take this opportunity to thank you for the magical moments of skill, the extraordinary goals, the amazing stepovers, but most of all, for having the decency to get this over with nice and early thus sparing us all another summer of perpetual speculation. Oh look, here we are already, Manchester Airport. Ta-raaa, good luck and watch yourself on the ker-
Are you alright? Did you break your ankle? Come on, son, pick yourself up, it can't be-
Ah, you're absolutely fine. Good show.
The most startling thing about this affair is that Ronaldo seems to think that a transfer to Real Madrid is the step-up that his career requires. It's quite the opposite. He's joining a chaotic shambles of a football club who only remain at the right end of La Liga because of the appallingly unbalanced way that Spanish clubs negotiate individual TV rights. Because of the vast disparity between the earnings of the clubs in that division, Madrid would actually have to work very hard to ever drop out of the top four. They change managers on a whim, regardless of their success and they haven't challenged in the Champions League for years. Ronaldo has traded in the stability and the prestige of the finest club on the planet for a shot at short-term success with the craziest.
Mind you, short-term is Ronaldo's watchword, isn't it? Apparently he didn't realise that, when you sign a five year contract, you're actually expected to stay for five years. They don't offer you GBP120,000 every week if you're thinking about jumping ship, you see. They don't offer it if they think that you'll throw your toys out of the pram the very next summer. And they certainly don't offer it if they think you'll start publicly agreeing with descriptions of you as a modern day slave.
Ronaldo could have been a legend at Old Trafford. He was one of the finest players ever to wear the red shirt and potentially worthy of mention in the same breath as Bobby Charlton, George Best and Denis Law. Not now. He could have followed the example of Ryan Giggs, Paul Scholes and Gary Neville, he could have stayed at the best club in the world and got better and better and better. One day, perhaps he'll realise what he's left behind.
The funny thing is, I don't think anyone will be that sad to see the back of him. Sir Alex Ferguson can now plan for the future without having to placate his petulant star. The coaching staff won't have coats snatched out of their hands every time he's substituted and the players don't have to put up with his mood swings. As for the fans, the ones who gave him a standing ovation after last summer's protracted nonsense, the ones who believed him when he said that he was staying, they've just learned an important lesson about modern football. At the end of it all, there's only one thing you can say. Goodbye Ronaldo and good riddance.
Are you alright? Did you break your ankle? Come on, son, pick yourself up, it can't be-
Ah, you're absolutely fine. Good show.
The most startling thing about this affair is that Ronaldo seems to think that a transfer to Real Madrid is the step-up that his career requires. It's quite the opposite. He's joining a chaotic shambles of a football club who only remain at the right end of La Liga because of the appallingly unbalanced way that Spanish clubs negotiate individual TV rights. Because of the vast disparity between the earnings of the clubs in that division, Madrid would actually have to work very hard to ever drop out of the top four. They change managers on a whim, regardless of their success and they haven't challenged in the Champions League for years. Ronaldo has traded in the stability and the prestige of the finest club on the planet for a shot at short-term success with the craziest.
Mind you, short-term is Ronaldo's watchword, isn't it? Apparently he didn't realise that, when you sign a five year contract, you're actually expected to stay for five years. They don't offer you GBP120,000 every week if you're thinking about jumping ship, you see. They don't offer it if they think that you'll throw your toys out of the pram the very next summer. And they certainly don't offer it if they think you'll start publicly agreeing with descriptions of you as a modern day slave.
Ronaldo could have been a legend at Old Trafford. He was one of the finest players ever to wear the red shirt and potentially worthy of mention in the same breath as Bobby Charlton, George Best and Denis Law. Not now. He could have followed the example of Ryan Giggs, Paul Scholes and Gary Neville, he could have stayed at the best club in the world and got better and better and better. One day, perhaps he'll realise what he's left behind.
The funny thing is, I don't think anyone will be that sad to see the back of him. Sir Alex Ferguson can now plan for the future without having to placate his petulant star. The coaching staff won't have coats snatched out of their hands every time he's substituted and the players don't have to put up with his mood swings. As for the fans, the ones who gave him a standing ovation after last summer's protracted nonsense, the ones who believed him when he said that he was staying, they've just learned an important lesson about modern football. At the end of it all, there's only one thing you can say. Goodbye Ronaldo and good riddance.
