Who does your tampons?

Brendan Rodgers

Have you seen that Brendan Rodgers? I can’t stand him, that Brendan Rodgers. Did you see him putting up the old ‘This Is Anfield’ sign? He’s stood there, right, under the old ‘This Is Anfield’ sign, with a fucking hammer. Under the sign, grinning, with a fucking hammer, so that we’d like him. Pandering to the fans with his hammer and his new old sign. Like we were just gonna get behind him because of his hammer and his new old sign. And his red nets. He’s put the old red nets back in the goals so that we’ll like him. He’s stood there with his hammer and his new old sign and his red fucking nets. And his teeth. Did you see his new teeth? He’s had his teeth done, the twat. He’s just stood there with his hammer and his new old sign and his red nets and his new fucking teeth. Seat sniffer, him.

He’ll never be a Liverpool manager. Not for me. Should’ve gone for Owen Coyle. He’s like a young Shanks, that Owen Coyle. Not that Brendan Rodgers. I’d have had Martin O’Neill over that Brendan Rodgers. What’s he ever won? We’re finished now, you watch. Two cup finals in one season’s gonna look like fucking Istanbul when this dickhead’s got us bottom half. From Kenny to this. Brendan fucking Rodgers, I can’t believe it. Have you seen that photo of him in a Sun t-shirt? That’s me done. Fucking prick in his Sun t-shirt. He didn’t even travel through time. Couldn’t even be fucked to travel through time and see himself as our manager, that Brendan Rodgers. Just went and put that rag’s shirt on and did his charity work and didn’t even invent time travel. You wouldn’t see anyone else not at all associated with Liverpool Football Club wearing that t-shirt and then not even bothering to invent a simple fucking time machine to go forward a few years and see if they’d ever become Liverpool manager, before going back again and taking it off and burning it while apologising profusely. He’s a fraud, him. Did you see him on that documentary? Was probably his idea, that – so he could be like David Brent. The things he says are like David Brent, aren’t they? Did you see him with those envelopes? What the fuck was that with him and his envelopes? Like David Brent, that.

And what’s this possession shite? Have you seen him, that Brendan Rodgers, going on about possession? “Death by football” he calls it. Just trying to get his own quote going. Thinks he’s Shanks, him. Thinks he can come here and say things and have his own ideas like Shanks did. Thinks he can come here and say things about football and then try to win games by playing in a way that’s planned and executed to instructions. Like Shanks did. He’s come in, right, and said things about football and that, yeah, without even inventing a time machine, and reckons he can just try different ways of playing to the ones we’ve already tried that didn’t win us enough games. Can’t stand him, that Brendan Rodgers. Coming here, saying stuff and trying things that could ultimately result in us winning more games than we did before, like we’ll all just stop moaning in some sort of grudging, disinclined admittance of an earlier display of absolute imbecility. He’s a danger, him. He got sacked by Reading.

“Did you see that Brendan Rodgers saying we can finish second? He’s a fraud, that Brendan Rodgers. I hope his cock rots off and his feet get eaten by wild pigs.”
– A knowledgeable fan

Have you seen the players he’s bought, that Brendan Rodgers? Fucking shite, they are. Joe Allen, you seen him? Rodgers loves him. He loves that lot he had at Swansea. Should’ve stayed there, the fraud. We’re his Swansea now. Signing his old players because he’s afraid of buying anyone he’s not worked with before. Standing there with a hammer under the sign. I’m telling you, we’ll have lads from fucking Watford here next, you watch. Everyone else is getting top young Brazilians and strikers who score loads of goals, but we’re not because Brenton Fraudgers wants to buy Swansea. Thinks he can stick up some red nets and we’ll all be ok with him buying lads from Swansea. We’ll never sign anyone decent again now, only shite from League One, because nobody wants to play for Fraudgers except Fabio Borini. He makes me cringe, that Brenton Fraudgers. He’s come in, right, and put up some red nets and a new old sign and stood there with a hammer and had his teeth done, and then got rid of big Andy Carroll straight away before he’s even sat down, so that people will sing his name. He scored at Wembley.

He’s playing the kids as well now, that David Brenton Fraudgers. Kids instead of Maxi Rodriguez. Thinks he can have his teeth done and play the kids and stand there with a hammer and then none of us will notice he’s got rid of Pepe. He thinks we’ll all chant his name because sixty-one points is more than fifty-two points, but it isn’t. It isn’t because he didn’t have two cup runs to distract him at the same time, because he lost to Oldham and hates the FA Cup. They’re all laughing at us now, because of that David Brenton Fraudgers. He’s done a big shit on the FA Cup with his new teeth and his lost weight. He’s probably happy though, yeah, because we won the passing and that. We won the passing and had more possession, like that’s better than Wembley. I knew Sturridge would be shite. Brenton probably thinks he can sign Chelsea rejects, not even invent a time machine, and lose a bit of weight, and we’ll all just be happy because he sold Downing.

I’ve tried to like him, that David Brenton Fraudgers. Despite everything I’ve said and a distinct lack of evidence to support that claim, completely transparent or otherwise – I’ve really tried. But I can’t, because I’m 90% sure he used to have at least one of his ears pierced. I’ve tried to like him, but in a quirky way that shows him absolutely no respect whatsoever, while I act deplorably and abuse his daughter as often as I can on social networking sites, like bottom-feeding pond life. I’ve tried to like him, but in an unconventional way, whereby I serially abuse John Henry on Twitter, and sometimes his wife, while calling for Brenton’s head. I’ve tried to like him, but there are just far too many frivolous and completely inconsequential things about him to absurdly occupy and excite the mind of a dribbling, feculent simpleton. I mean, have you seen his lips? All dry and that. And his nose is pretty big as well. And he stood there, grinning, under his new old sign, with a fucking hammer, and said things on that documentary, with his envelopes. Nah, it’s no good – he’s a dickhead, and you’ll never convince me otherwise.

“The secret is out – Liverpool can win the Premier League title.”
– BBC Sport

Have you seen that Barcelona? After Rodgers in the summer, apparently. Well they can fuck off, they ain’t having him. We’ve got ourselves someone special here. Someone who’s got us playing the best football I’ve seen for some time. Got us competing and looking a real, proper force again. Someone who might just lead this club back to the very top – if not this season then definitely the next. Someone who talks the talk, walks the walk, and looks every inch a Liverpool manager. I’ve always thought so. I liked him right from the start, that Brendan Rodgers. Our Brendan. Love his new teeth.