Musings on Stuff

Problems with my colon

Did anyone see that documentary about Liverpool? I normally only bother with Channel Five when Melinda Messenger’s got one of her DIY programmes on. She must have helped millions of blokes with their DIY needs, old Melinda.

But tonight I caught a bit of a programme about Liverpool, one of those fly on the wall jobs. Brendan Rodgers has got a well nice pad. Like Bren, I also have a portrait of myself in the sitting room and I find it really gives you a lift when you are feeling low, looking at your wall and saying “Look how far I have come. Look at all that I have achieved. I have got a picture of myself on my wall and I deserve it”. Tonette says you could get the same effect with a mirror but I prefer to talk to myself when I am looking my best not like how I look on a day to day basis.

The thing I liked best about the documentary was the title. It’s called Being:Liverpool. Yeah, with the two dots in the middle. I liked it so much that I phoned the lawyer to see if he could set it in motion for me to change my name to Ronnie:Matthews.

UPDATE: Spoke to one of the Sams at the book publishers and she said that apparently the two dots thing is called a colon. That’s effing brilliant. Only now do I find out that I have changed my name by deed poll to Ronnie Colon Matthews. The lads are going to rip the mickey out of me something rotten. I’d only just shaken off the name “Sh1t Boots” after one of the lads left a little present in my shoe preseason and I put it on without checking; this is going to set me back ten years.

Berbatov has let himself down with Fergie departure jibe

As a player, I probably did not have too much in common with Dimitar Berbatov. Berba is more what you would call an artist, a Bulgarian or a lazy so-and-so. I was all action, a craftsman, toiling in the trenches, carrying the water, sometimes carrying the magic sponge as well. That said, I did once go to Bulgaria on a stag do, and let me tell you something it’s no wonder Berbatov always looks a bit sleepy and knackered. The women and the drink are top drawer, but to be fair my blood sugar got dangerously low because it was so hard to get anything decent to eat. By the end of the weekend I was as weak as a kitten and I would say that Ferige giving me the hairdryer treatment would be the absolute last thing I would of needed.

Berba’s been and left saying “thanks very much, respect to all at Old Trafford” but has not passed up the opportunity to settle a few scores with Ferrguson. Schoolboy error there from the Big Bulgarian. You want to save a bit of that for your first autobiography, that would set the cat among the pigeons. To be fair though I suppose your Bulgarians are not big readers. When I left Peterborough the second time I got a tattoo saying “Eff You Barry Fry” in Chinese but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t regret it in later life. Especially when I found out that my tattooist, Wang, had actually gone and wrote “I want bum-bum Barry Fry” on it in revenge for me having given him a bounced cheque when I paid him for my dorsal three lions.

Biggest day of my life since I made my debut v the Faroe Islands

Today is a massive day for me, probably the most important in my career since I got my England cap. I said to myself at the time “Ronnie no matter what happens they cannot take that away from you.” As it turned out, tragically, Sepp Blatter and his FIFA Europrats WERE later able to take that away from me by having the 2007 friendly v the Faroe Islands posthumously stripped of its full international status due to my so-called disgraceful behaviour towards a female linesperson. But that’s football.

This is a book. My book. My thoughts, my hopes, my dreams, my life in football, my loves, my dogs, my fears, my run-ins with Barry Fry. I Kick Therefore I Am is a book by a footballer who sees beyond football. I am very proud of it, and I hope you are proud of it too.

I have a book. Whatever happens, they cannot take that away from me (unless it got recalled because it had poisonous ink or sharp edges that were not suitable for kiddies etc.) But that is not very likely, to be fair.

The book game: full of chancers and birds called Sam

We are all getting well excited at Casa Ronnie for the launch of my new book this week. Ever since I was at school it has always been my dream to write a book and the best thing about the sort of book I’ve done is that it is not one of those sorts of books that is hard to read. To be fair, a footballer could read it. And write it, as I have proved.

I’ve had a woman from the publishers called Sam on the phone asking if I’ve got any contacts in the world of football because her boss, Sam, reckons that word of mouth publicity is crucial with a campaign like this, whatever that means, and do I know any footballers that could review the book or do a Tweet about it or what have you?

I said, don’t worry about the people reviewing the book, what about the people that are going to buy it? You don’t get anywhere in life by giving anything out for free and I said as much to Stan Collymore when he wanted a freebie copy “for review purposes”, the posh tart. Pony up, Stan, that is my message. It’s only a fiver or whatever and frankly with the money you make from the radio and going on the TV talking about depression etc you should frankly be buying a score of them at least.

So if anyone in the football media does want to review the book then obviously that would be brilliant. Give Sam a call, and if she’s not in then ask for other Sam (also a bird) and they’ll take your credit card details no problem at all. It’s all about networking the book game.