Andrew Allen is deputy editor at sport.co.uk
Hmm, what should I write about this week for The DA? Have to focus…Shoes look a bit dirty; I’d better give them a clean.
I usually do my brain storming in Cafe Nero with a black Americano and a window to stare out of. This is a new challenge. I’m all out of kilter on the sofa.
Oh those ones look a little grubby too; I’ll give them a polish while I’m at it. You can tell a lot by a man’s shoes.
It’s been a quiet week in the Sport.co.uk office, except for that exclusive about the Arsenal takeover which we couldn’t write about. Quality journalism that. Always wise to protect your contacts.
That’ll do on the shoes. Not quite the sheen I wanted on them, but a fine job nonetheless. It’s probably about time I got them re-soled…fed up getting wet feet when it rains.
If people had known why we didn’t print the takeover scoop perhaps we wouldn’t have been abused so much on Twitter.
I’m starving, wonder what’s in the fridge…yeah thought so. Nothing… Typical.
I’m starting to think being a football journalist is on a par with estate agent and banker these days. So much hatred for hacks. Some of the comments were quite funny mind. Certainly made us chuckle. Hope I don’t bump into them at the Emirates.
Suppose I could write about the #stayonyourfeet t-shirts we were sent, but it seems like old news already.
Bloody internet and fast moving trends. I can’t keep up.
Ooooh leftover Pringles, that’s a bonus. And a suspect looking Cadbury Finger. Dinner time.
Could touch on the United-Chelsea game last night, but pretty sure the football world is saturated by Fernando Torres jokes, not the DA though, they never stoop that low…
Might check Twitter actually while the Spurs game is on. Couple more followers…bonus. Those busty girls really do seem to be attracted by my tweets about Arsenal. I refuse to believe they are fake accounts run by middle age male spammers.
Camera angle in the Spurs game is mental. Bet that’s UEFA’s doing…they’re a right fussy bunch.
I shouldn’t have eaten that entire tube of Pringles. Moorish…
Friday – 9pm
Seeing as I’m too poor to go out tonight I should really finish The DA article. I can’t believe I have writer’s block. I’m completely devoid of ideas.
Plus, I think Norwich are playing Nottingham Forest – should probably get on that…
Sunday – 8.35am
What the f*** am I doing up? Why am I so awake? I think I’m still drunk. You’re 28 now, binge drinking sessions shouldn’t start at midday.
Why is the laptop in bed with me? Why was I listening to Annie Lennox on iTunes?
Oh god…what happened last night? How did I get 15 missed calls? Whose number is that?
God I hope Arsenal beat Liverpool today, if we screw it up there’s no way we can win the league. So long as we don’t do it in some stupidly painful way. I can’t take another capitulation…
Maybe I should try that article again; perhaps partial inebriation will loosen the writer’s block. Had a feeling City would beat United, that’s good news – there is no way Fergie’s lot are worthy treble winners.
Hmm…still no idea what to write about. The work experience kid was pretty funny this week, could mention him in it. Didn’t know anything about Jean-Pierre Papin or Ronald Koeman though. Maybe I’m getting old?
I am getting old. I bought Corsodyl mouthwash because an advert told me I might have gum disease. Jesus.
I can’t concentrate. I should sleep more.
It never fails to amaze me how many different ways this Arsenal team can absolutely cock up. Words fail me.
Apparently not for the first time this week…I despair.
How can I possibly write about being a football journalist after this? Maybe I should quit and do something else.
Career aspirations at the age of nine were to play for Arsenal or be Batman. I quite openly admit to still wanting to do both, but should probably think of something else; something a bit more practical.
A profession which doesn’t rely on me using my somewhat lamentable physical attributes.
I need a beer…
756 words in six days. That’ll do. Got to love journalism.