A Very Unprofessional Christmas

What does Santa Seppy Claus have in his magic sack this holiday season?

While we here at UF respect the holidays of many faiths (...any excuse to drink...), it's obvious that the 800 lb gorilla this time of year is Christmas. In my family, Christmas means one thing (two actually, if you count liberal self-medication) -- good ole fashioned consumerism. If you're part of our clan, whether by blood or relationship, my mother demands a wishlist from you. And in the interest of self-preservation, you'd had better give her one in a timely fashion.

This year, outside of the 3rd season of "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia" (seriously, if you don't watch this show, do it now) and assorted Liverpool swag, I'm not really wanting for much. But that's not to say that aren't those who are, though.

So, let's take a peek at what's on the wishlists of some of our Favorites (and non-Favorites) from around the World of Football.


Roy Keane:
A new job and a razor to shave his Unabomber beard ahead of his next interview. Better yet, how about a job as the next pitchman for Gillette razors? Unfortunately, that gig comes to an abrupt end after the red mist descends and he chokes out Titi during the filming of his first commercial.

Kevin Keegan:
Forget the razor, this man just needs a job. Do you have any idea how important it is to a man's self-worth to have a job which he can quit at the first sign of trouble? In lieu of gainful employment, a fat, undeserved pay-out from Newcastle would be welcomed.

Michel Platini:
The Beatles' complete catalog and a lifetime's supply of Thomas' English Muffins, simply because he appears to depise all things English so much.

South Africa:
Luck. With 2010 looming and continued doubts over their ability to stage the next World Cup properly, they're going to need it.

Cristiano Ronaldo:
A body-length mirror to admire himself in and which will tell him who's the loveliest in all the land. Also, lessons from a six-year old on what to do when the ball is headed for your face/head.

Vinnie Jones:
A taste of his own medicine. Oh, he already got it. Then, a tampon to sop up all the blood.

Major League Soccer:
A g*ddamn clue. You don't have the talent pool for continued expansion. Why do you refuse to heed the lessons of the NASL?

Barcelona:
More of the same, please. The UF Crew collectively pities the fools who draw the Catalan club in the knock-out stages of the Champions League. [Ed. Note: And we collectively wish that our teams avoid Barca at all costs]

Sam Allardyce:
A do-over. After passing up the Sunderland job, leaving it for Roy Keane, Big Sam is hoping somebody remembers what wonders he worked at Stupid F-ing Bolton. Also, the Jawbone Bluetooth so he'll continue to look like a fast food drive-thru employee upon his return to management.

Robbie Keane:
A rich vein of form in front of goal. Despite his claim that he's not worried about himself and therefore nobody else should be, it's time for the ₤20M man to start banging them in for Liverpool.

Michael Owen:
Rescue from Newcastle. Not that he deserves it.

The UF Crew:
Handjobs. Much like Polaroid pictures and Scottish football, what once was thought to be an obsolete relic of the past is making a comeback. (Just joking, Scottish football isn't making a comeback)

So, what's on your list?