"I am not a number, I'm a free man," bellowed the Prisoner. Greedy sod, he should have been grateful, because Coventry City striker Paul Williams is remembered in the tomes of football folly by just a solitary letter. Yes, one blessed letter.

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COLE THE CLOWN AS GRAND SLAM CIRCUS
ROLLS IN TO TOWN... SATURDAY 22nd MARCH 2008

There are so many good and valid reasons for the football public to despise Chelski.

Whether it's the cynical purchase of the Premier League title in consecutive seasons, the insipid caviar brigade that bravo their way around Stamford Bridge (at least United stopped at prawns), or simply Fat Frank, even former Shed dwellers admit there's a smugness in the Blue of West London these days.

And then Cashley Cole rolls along!


This guy is priceless. Defection, arrogance, greed, violence .. and that's just his missus. Sorry, I mean, his ex-missus.

Add to that list betrayal, and young Ashley is the biggest figure of fun in modern football since Brian Kilcline morphed into a werewolf circa 1992.

And as for his apology this week for the disgraceful tackle on Alan Hutton and subsequent barracking of referee Mike Riley; well, that was about as heartfelt as my merciless scoffing of this morning's leftover hot cross buns.

So roll on Grand Slam Sunday this weekend when Stepney's finest comes up against his former employers.

If there's any justice he will shank one into his own net to kill off the Chelsea title dream, but given that in the time it has taken me to write this Cole has pocketed almost £400 (while all I've got to show for it is indigestion), I'm not holding out too much hope ...


 

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