Men who take their football seriously are strongly advised to read this article no further. Likewise, those male chauvinists who feel that women have no right to comment on sport.
Hopefully the fans who remain will be those who, like me, like the game to be a bit of fun as well as a great adrenaline kick at weekends or whenever your team is in action.
Anyway, I’ve just been having a giggle at players’ looks (or occasional lack there of) rather than their on-field skills (or usual lack of them). And I’ve come up with two squads—the Donna Uglies and the Donna Dreamboats.
My sincere apologies to the Uglies—I know only too well that you can’t help the way you look and that, unlike us girls, you don’t have the benefit of being able to wear makeup to hide the hideous bits. (Well, not unless you want to get kicked all around the dressing room and branded a fairy.)
But I do question why men blessed with masses of money but few natural attributes other than twinkling feet don’t invest a few thousand in improving their appearance. Carlos Tevez and Ronaldinho, for example—they took years to find a good dentist, and I’m not sure whether the Brazilian has got it right even now.
Perhaps he should ask Nottingham Forest striker Robert Earnshaw, who looked like a modern-day Bugs Bunny until he had his gnashers seen to a couple of seasons ago. Or maybe the Wales hitman found a miracle cure for unattractiveness. Either way, I wonder if the chant at the City Ground these days is: "You’re not minging any more."
Poor Rio Ferdinand doesn’t so much need a tooth job—even a ton of collagen couldn’t help the lipless one. Not that the Manchester United captain is bothered, I’m sure. He could probably bed half the women in the city should he wish to, though I suspect the vast majority would have their eyes tightly shut throughout the ordeal.
Before you start telling me I’m no oil painting myself, I’d like to put you right on that one because a young Geordie guy told me last week: ‘‘You looks great.'' Either that or ''Your looks grate.'' You decide.
As for footballers taking stick about their looks, well, not all of them can look like former Spurs and Newcastle pin-up boy David Ginola. But at least they can hide their deficiencies by plastering £100 notes all over their faces.
I’ve based my Uglies squad on players who have been featured in European football over the last 20 years and the unmitigated champions with by far the most mingers are, you guessed it, Manchester United.
Yes, the biggest earners are also the biggest gurners.
Here are my squads, in no particular formation. My money would be on the Uglies— even if they couldn’t beat the good-lookers squarely, they’d frighten the opposition to death.
Fabien Barthez (was he Donald Pleasance reincarnated?), Gary Neville, Rio Ferdinand, Pigface Rooney, Dimitar Berbatov, Gabriel Obertan, Carlos Tevez, Luke Chadwick, Ronaldinho, Ivan Campo, Peter Beardsley.
Subs: Jason Koumas, Iain Dowie and Franck Ribery Anton Ferdinand, Carlton Palmer, Yossi Benayoun.
The Uglies' chairman would be Eggert "The Vulkan" Magnusson, the former owner of West Ham, and the manager would be Harry Redknapp.
Harry’s no oil painting for sure, but he must have the world’s most beautiful wife. Otherwise how did his son Jamie get his good looks?
Now for the opposition as assessed by Donna (are you reading, girls?).
Kasper Schmeichel (or David James if you fancy someone more experienced), Warren Barton, David Beckham, Gary Speed, Kaka, Jamie Redknapp, Cristiano Ronaldo, Eidur Gudjohnsen, Michael Owen, Fernando Torres, Harry Kewell and David Ginola.
The manager has to be a special one, so step up the Real deal Jose Mourinho. As for the chairman, I can’t think of a handsome one, so as a lifelong Cardiff City fan I’ll go for the Bluebirds’ Malaysian chief Dato Chan Tien Ghee. He’s not good-looking, but he might just give me access to some complimentary tickets.
So there you have it, a team of Uglies against a team of Dreamboats, even if the good-lookers would have no chance of beating anyone with only one specialist defender in Barton.
So much for the important stuff. Now I’ll get back to cooking the roast…
Read more of Donna's articles at www.donnagee.blogspot.com and www.grumpyoldgran.com
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