Howmanheyman

6 mins. The fucking games rigged, man.

Well that didn't go well.

Williamson v Drogba.

Fucking get in! Colback and Perez have been immense.

Cisse needs to do better there, mind.

Drogba man. Just blow the whistle now ref.

Worried me when I tried to spell it.

Schurrle worries me. Cracking player who always does well when I see him.

Fucking get in!!

Disgraceful that by the time Perez cut in wanting to pass it there was still no fucker supporting him.

Good football there, lovely touch and awareness by Perez.

Similar to last season.

Fair play, we're doing a good job of lulling them into a false sense of security by appearing to be unambitious.

Savage, Mcmanaman and Owen. How many wankers does a BT studio need?

Every day? No, I'm just not that strong.

http://www.chroniclelive.co.uk/sport/sport-opinion/newcastle-united-manager-alan-pardew-8230008 The secret diary of Lee Ryder aged 44 and a half. 06/12/2014 Sometimes you get a little niggle, something that just won't go away like a bit like the towering centre-half colossal once of the parish of St. James' Park, Jonathon Woodgate and his never ending injuries. My niggle though, was a Sun reporter coming into my patch and getting the Perez fish and chips story a few days before ah sussed it. Sure, that reporter didn't get the Trinity Mirror regional sports writer of the year award like the Knight Ryder did, but he stepped on my toes a bit with the player/common touch story which ah know my loyal Chronicle readers fucking lap up. Anyways, was cracking on with Harps on the phone as ah was doing a bit on he CL days of Sir Bobby when he just happened to mention Shefki Kuqi and his amazing discovery of good old British gravy! Fucking magic! Not only a player/common touch story but a bit of retro added on for my readers pleasure! Ah'd already written the story in my head before Harps put the phone down, ah suppose that's what separates the men from the boys, the Lee Ryders from the Doug Thomsons of this World, the ability to stay one step ahead of the mugs, even The Sun would've killed for 'Gravy-Gate'. Ah typed it up in the Thomson House Nerve Centre and even managed to get invited forra few after work drinks with Gibbo, Micky Quinn and my old mentor, Anal Oliver who was up for the day, these prestijus, prestigias, these important awards already starting to open up the doors and Ryder has his foot well and truly jammed in it! Ah'm gannin fucking neewhere, pet, as the Journalistic sports salesman says to the housewife Sky Sports recruitment lass for 'Sunday Supplement'. Laters, diary, Always looking ahead apart from my retro stuff, Ryder and out!

In a nutshell.

Absolutely. That and calling man U 'United' even when our clubs meet.

Happy birthday, wor kid.

The secret diary of Doug Thomson aged 26 and a bit 04/12/2014 Dearest diary, as I awoke from my slumber, the crack in my curtains showed how the former industrial Yorkshire town of Huddersfield looked as bleak as ever although it did take me back to my formative years of attending the Terriers games and the local Bobby informing travelling Newcastle folk that they couldn't 'take banner t'ground'. As I was saying it was a bleak day as I typed up Chris Powell's plans to get Huddersfield Town another three points on Saturday and then I made my way home for the day, watched the ten O'clock news which had a particularly interesting piece on the regeneration of parts of the North before retiring to bed. I then realised I hadn't put the cat out! How I grinned at the poor things forlorn face as it thought it was staying in for the night. Eee bah gum, the life of a regional sports writer never ends! Cheerio.

Does Max Clifford get compassionate prison leave to watch Arsenal?

The secret diary of Lee Ryder aged 44 and a half. 03/12/2014 Well what can ah say, diary? What can ah say? Had a fantastic night the other night as ah won the Trinity Mirror Group’s sports writer of the year! Yep! Me! Carol Vorderman hosted the event but there was the odd celebrity guest presenting the awards. Anyways, it came to the category I was in, the best sports writer and as ah sat there they announced the celebrity who would present the award to the winner. Carol said she was handing the stage over to ….roll drums……Todd Carty!! Fucking Todd Carty? Could’ve been someone a bit better like, ah mean, ah loved him in Grange Hill as ‘Tucker Jenkins’ and he even had his own spin off series called Tucker’s Luck about when he left Grange Hill, but he was canny shite in Eastenders as Mark Fowler and the fucking aids storyline just dragged on forever. Anyways, he then calls my name out and right then ah could’ve kissed the cockney former child actor right on his poncey arsehole! Ah gets up accepting the applause from the room, me head in a spin! My editor, Helen Dalby kissed me and got her photo took with me, as an aside, they say don’t mix pleasure with business, but ah definitely would there, like. That ginger centre parton and black polka dress almost had me manhood hanging like a babies arm holding an apple! Ah gets up to the stage, gets me award off Carty and say, ‘Cheers Tucker, son.’ Then deliver me speech. As ah’m a sports journalist ah decide to give the Ryder version of a famous Norwegian Journalist’s craic. This is what ah said in full….. "Ladies and Gentlemen, Trinity Mirror Directors, I am the best in the world! I am the best in the world! I have beaten the regional sports journalists of The Trinity Mirror Group !! It is completely unbelievable! I have beaten them all! Trinity Mirror, birthplace of giants. Birmingham Post, Coventry Evening Telegraph, Barking & Dagenham Yellow Advertiser, Buckinghamshire Advertiser, The Crawley News, Evening Gazette of Teesside, Huddersfield District Chronicle, Manchester Evening News, I have beaten them all! I have beaten them all! "Liverpool Echo can you hear me? Liverpool Echo, I have a message for you in the middle of the football campaign. I have a message for you: I have knocked all your sports writers out of the awards. Liverpool Echo, as they say in your language in the boxing bars around Madison Square Garden in New York: Your boys took one hell of a beating! Your boys took a hell of a beating!" After the party died down a bit ah went forra piss and ah seen Helen talking to one of the group directors, she asked him why exactly they chose yours truly for the award? The Director said regional sports was usually just a pile of shite about old players and current ones, re-hashed quotes from washed out players and shit managers. It was all shit so they usually decided to award the award to any journalist who happened to be banned at the time of voting! He said ah was a ‘cause celebre’ at the minute so it was better publicity for the groups image. Unbelievable! The Director of The Trinity group thinks ah’m a celebrity!!! Things were just getting better and better here, like! They way things were going ah might as well put the lottery on! So ah did, metaforic, metaphoraka, in a manner of speaking…….Ah asked Helen if she fancied going up to me room but she said ah was a really nice lad but she didn’t think it was a good idea with us working together and her being ambitious and wanting to move from the Ronnie Gill one day unlike me who she reckoned would be a Chronicle icon till my dying day which was sweet of her but didn’t do my bonk on any favours. Never mind, can’t win them all, just the Trinity Mirror Sports Journalist of the year award. Lol. Laters.

"I'm so sorry I was late, MT. Happy birthday from your fave player, ever. Loves and kisses, Zanetti. x x"

Happy birthday, Tom.

Taylor and Besty is a good one when Michael Martin or any other guests are on with them otherwise I give it a miss.