Well, who fancies Allegri now? Useless.
It’s quite incredible to watch these elite European match-ups, the levels on display are breathtaking. Cristiano, a player whom the metaphoric black armbands were being dished out on account of his career death, turned up with one of the most spectacular bicycle kicks of all time. It was like watching a computer game. The guy has to go down as one of the most machine-like athletes of all time. Never injured, POW like guts, laser focus, and an audacity he should have lost when he was 18 and the English journos told him to leave his fancy shit at the gates of Selhurst Park.
“Certainly I will go abroad,”
“In Italy, finished.”
That’s Max Allegri. Get used to the name, because we’ll be cursing it this summer when Arsenal pass on his services.
Arguably, the Italian is the most suitable candidate to take over from Arsene Wenger when he should be told to pack his bags this summer. The suave manager of Juventus has put his club on notice, and apparently, that above line was delivered in English, I guess to make a point that he’s Premier League bound.
It feels so good for football to be back.
It feels even better to deliver a hammer blow to Paul Lambert’s Stoke in controversial circumstances. I mean, the penalty we were awarded wasn’t really that controversial, I thought Ozil was crunched in the box and the challenge from behind was certainly reckless.
The cooly slotted penalty reassured me Aubameyang is indeed the absolute man.