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England Players Euro 2012 profiles

by anonymous

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Joe Hart hates disorder. Spends his off days with packets of liquorice allsorts he takes from Steven Gerrard, organizing them into the homogeneous groups before repackaging them for Theo Walcott.

Glen Johnson like a man with a mirror and a flyswatter, he has learned to see danger behind him and scurry back to eliminate it. Splat.

John Terry an ambivalent personage. He stands in the way of progress towards a unified and tolerant society, but also blocks enemy shots and sorties.

Joleon Lescott a junior but mildly effective figure whose large and unusual headhas already redirected one football quite usefully.

Ashley Cole has renounced the WAGS and fastcar lifestyle and is now contents himself with trophies and large wads of cash. Also defends with limber and pluck.

James Milner runs up and down the right touchline, sometimes quite near the ball, in a way that has become oddly indispensable to England.

Scott Parker his haircut is from the 1940s and so is his attitude. In a good way. So thoughtful, he tried to pen an autobiography of someone else.

Steven Gerrard has cut down on sugary sugary sweets over the years and stopped screeching round the pitch in search of misspelled glory, instead waiting deep in the middle field before kicking large and distracting crosses.

Ashley Young can play football. Honestly. Just hasn’t so far this tournament. On his day, he’s lithe as an otter. Adores flans.

Wayne Rooney England has awaited him. The chosen potato. He has a racehorse called Switcherooney. Can he? Don’t call his hair a weave, and he just might.

Danny Welbeck is unconventional. Rarely to be found in the Number 9 position, he is prepared to go there on occasion, provided he can score via delightful body contorsion. Once won some swans.


Andy Carroll don’t call him Plan B, call him Plan Andy C. He is taller than everyone else.

Theo Walcott eats the sugary sugary sweets that have been taken off Gerrard before being unleashed in a frenzy of latter-match scamping. Feeds on “tired legs”. Not literally.


Some other well-meaning lads who probably won’t get a kick. Thank them anyway.


Luke Sunderland

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