Look at the name.
The rumors amidst an ownership change make it stupid.
The rumors with Americans involved make it fucking stupid, as though all of them flip cheddar like an epileptic working the grill at Burger King on disco night.
Does that imply Burger King uses something even quasi-organic on its burgers? Or was it flown in duty-free on the last NASA launch? What the hell is a Whopper anyway? Does this line of questions mean Adriano has regrets?
That last one is rhetorical.
Marco Borriello. What do you do? Sleeping pills and hope it resolves itself? Seems all very River of No Return.
The majority of rumors seem to focus on Pastore-type mancrushes which are frankly more Catholic priest-on-altar boy than anything remotely legal, when last year the defense was an absolute shambles (statistical definition), they lost their best defender and are now stuck with Juan, who is a Selecao callup from consumption, malaria and polio simultaneously, and Nico Burdisso, who has legal representation on retainer, for central defense. So right now, CBs 3 & 4 are the starting fullbacks.
Does no one else see this as slightly problematic? I mean, it's June, but come on. Throw me a freakin' bone.
I've never had a decent coffee at Caffe dello Sport. How is this acceptable considering the ownership situation? Is Tommy D going to buy out that place and stock it with at least some illy and cups which aren't an ode to late 80's acid wash jeans? Erik Lamela can wait – priorities.
Ricky Alvarez keeps giving me flashbacks to Thiago Neves. That's really all I've got, but it's negative, so it counts.
No one asks me.
They should ask me.
The likely new Senor is Spanish, thus we have a country with uber talented footballers with technique that makes the purest honey on earth seem but a sour ooze, yet are allergic to Italian air, ready to introduce an entire new demographic to the list of completely fabricated transfer rumors. So we deal with not only the blitzkrieg of useless rumors, but also the ones which do have grounds will lead to an inevitable scorched earth of utter devastation and failure should they actually come to fruition. Something like a Vegas hotel simultaneously hosting a bisexuality convention with a hermaphrodite internet support group's weekend out: screwed either way.
Insert commentary about intoxication here which will allow several in the crowd to settle into a state of mild misery as they think, “oh, I really use that as a coping mechanism”.
The links to a sports psychologist have not been piggybacked with “and an around-the-clock team of mental health professionals to chaperone Mirko Vucinic”.
Nevermind. That boy's mint just as he is.
There will be inevitable rumors of plundering Barca's B team, which isn't the worst idea in the history of man, but will also inevitably lead to a summer of “Barca to swap possibly decent...one day...but probably not...sopraritone for Daniele De Rossi, Christian Totti and co-ownership of Francesco's double helix.”, which will get really fucking annoying by the time, oh, I got halfway through that made-up headline. I'm tired of it and it's not even real. This is what the European press has done to me.
So basically, it's June 2 and I'm developing a complex.