Afternoon:
10°c
No excusing Agassi's harum-scarum tales
How many more confessions can we take from that gushing geyser of belated truth-telling, Andre Agassi? Crystal meth has given way to taking speed at his father's behest, yet the drugs seem small fry next to the one that puts Manchester United's grey shirts and darts player Mervyn "the King" King's troubles with a noisy air con unit and every other great excuse for sporting defeat in the shade . . . the one about him losing a French Open Final through terror that his hair weave would detach itself. God knows what's still to come, but the 8-11 favourite is impacted haemorrhoids to explain his loss to Pete Sampras in the 2003 US Open Final. The better value, at 100-30, is confessing to being the "second man" in JFK's assassination, some six years before his birth.
Poetry meets punditry
Match of the Day Algonquin Round Table Witticism of the Week goes, unsurprisingly in Mark Lawrenson's absence from the sofa, to Gary Lineker. Gary signed off on Saturday with what came agonisingly close to qualifying as a rhyming couplet. “We'll leave the last hurrah to Drog Bah,” he said, and up went the cry of “Matron, the side staplers, please, Lineker's split 'em again”. Surely some smart publisher must see the potential for a Christmas stocking filler here?
Rio the restaurateur gets ahead of himself
Thanks to manchesterconfidential.com's Sleuth column for highlighting a foodie recommendation from Rio Ferdinand. “Rosso,” replied Rio when an in-flight magazine's My Town questionnaire asked after his favourite local eaterie. “This Italian restaurant serves unbelievable food. I love the flattened steak . . . The vibe is nice too . . . Plenty of footballers pop in for quality food after matches.” No wonder, because the place sounds absolutely fantastic. The one thing that slipped Rio's mind here — and we know from that missed drug test how forgetful he can be — was that Rosso doesn't open until later this month. To his credit, he does eventually recall being a co-owner . . . but even so, Rio, you've been merked. By yourself!
. . . but I'll still leave a tip
When Rosso does open, I suggest it includes “Rio Ferdinand leg of partridge” among the signature dishes. That way, on busy nights when they run out of ingredients, waiters would regretfully tell those ordering it: “Sorry, you can't have that tonight. You see, Rio's legs have gone.”
Confidence is more than a numbers game
The inflation rate for sporting confidence makes Zimbabwe look like Switzerland. A while back Michael Schumacher's agent Willi Weber insisted he was “200 per cent sure” his client wouldn't return to F1 a day before the German announced his wish to replace Felipe Massa in the Ferrari. Now beleaguered Phil Brown is “one million per cent sure” his Hull players are behind him. It's like Weimar Germany out there. How long before these people have to carry their certainty around in giant wheelbarrows?
