First off; my sincerest of apologies for the two-week hiatus. To say I have been a busy bee would be a mild understatement. With work, the Tour, the novel and my enhanced social-life, I haven't found much time to work on the blog, and in addition to all this, I've failed to maintain the enlightened standard of the early entries, and am thus slightly embarassed.
Anyways, what better way to jump back into the wild world of having your own pointless website than to identify another recipient of the Dave Parker Award for Excellence. This entry is a bit different than the past award winners because they were all gentleman I actually respected. In this case, Chelsea and England right-back Ashley Cole is the complete inverse. This man had it all; he was a key component of Arsenal's perfect season and as a member of the "Invincibles", he bedded and wedded the country's premier bird, Cheryl Tweedy. While as a member of the Gunners, I was able to look past his emotional immaturities and shortcomings. Then came the day he signed with cross-town rivals Chelsea amidst their overhaul and subsequent attempt to purchase the Premier League trophy by Russian tycoon Roman Abramovitch.
At this exact moment, he became dead to me and each and every time he paced the right flanks I prayed that my eyes would be aborted. He started wearing white often, Cheryl left him for greener pastures and he became the oft-injured Ashley Cole, a deviation of the talent he was at Highbury.
To see him now, holding a smoke with the Travolta scissor-finger technique and standing in a typically afeminite way, is an extremely redeeming moment for me.
Ashley, you used to be my second favorite athlete, now you just suck.
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