Ashly Cle is NOT gy

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But his lwyer my be

There was a thing about this on Football Focus. I was waiting for them to say it's not their fault if they're gay.

Tough talk, let's see if he can back it up.

oops.

Haha duhh. If it was an editorial decision that'd be pretty superb. Perhaps as a further gesture of corporate might they could make http://ashleycole.ytmnd.com the "I'm Feeling Lucky!" result.

In many ways this book is seminal - a landmark in illustrating greed, misguidance by agents and the way that a good, formerly modest young man can be turned into a monster of celebrity. This book should have its front cover graced by that famous National Lottery picture of Cashley and Cheryl Greedy, the medallion and white suit sombo, the smug smirks, an insult to the football club that made Cole. In the drivel underneath are such gems that Cole felt he should be on an equal level of pay and adoration with one of Arsenal's greatest players, Thierry Henry, that he felt the fans should be chanting his name at Highbury's final salute, this even with his very public, incredibly stupid flirtation with Chelsea knowledge for ages, and that the Arsenal board betrayed him by negotiating for a five grand a week saving on the £60,000 contract mooted.
Cashley, you've turned yourself into a laughing stock. Save your money and don't lavish Cole with another white suit, another jewelled jacket for his dog, another cake in the shape of a computer console...what a loser.

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I always thought ghostwriters were susposed to make the subject look good. Whomever wrote this one should be fired, because instead of sympathy or liking the subject we get one of the most self absorbed individuals focusing on a year he did virtually nothing except break the conditions of his legal contract and those of the sport he plays for and then claims that he is the victim. An exercise in self absorption.

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This is surely the must have book of the summer. A truely epic tale which follows the life of the intelligent and classy Cashley Cole, in which he battles for the good of humanity and the common man against the evil empire of David Dein and Mr Wenger. Treated almost as a slave at his beloved Arsenal, C Cole is humiliated when he begs Arsenal to extend his contract, but the evil Mr Dein heniously offers a pathetic £55,000 to the young hero Mr Cole. However, valiantly Cashley fights for the little man and amazingly against all odds wins and signs for the wonderful family club that is Chelsea at £100,000 a week. This book shows that down to earth footballers do exist and despite what the media say, a role model still does exist in football. Cashley Cole is this role model and a hero to us all.

Well done Cashley, you must be very proud.

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A wise man once asked a group of schoolchildren 'Why, children, does a dog lick his own testicles?'. The children looked perplexed. The wise man smiled and said 'Because he can'.
Does Ashley lick his own testicles? We may never know for sure. Certainly he is small and lithe enough. What we do know for sure is that Ashley has been treated like a dog. Like a small pigeon chested chihuahua, kept on leash and denied the meagre gruel that so many of us take for granted.
In 'My Defence', Ashley takes us on a journey of unimaginable hardship and suffering. From his early days taken from the safety of his home into 'the Club', the grinding hours of labour, through to his young adulthood where each week he is forced to perform for his masters.
During this time he is forced to live on the scraps provided by the evil 'Dein' and his cohorts. To Ashley's great credit his suffering does not make for a depressing read. I laughed often. This is helped by his delighful and playful prose. Never allowing himself to slip into self pity and wearing his chains of burden lightly. With a smattering of self-deprecation amongst the horror of the forced labour, Ashley takes us a journey of self discovery.
Let us hope as Ashley sees the door to freedom creak open that he can spend a little more time like the proverbial dog 'licking his testicles'. If asked why, who could begrudge this particular dog answering as the wise man once said 'because I can'...

I found it impossible to put this work of literary genius down, and have an idea for a sequel. The year is 2012. Every player in the Premier League is now registered to Chelsea bar one - young Theo, who is left behind because he still hasn't finished his homework. Due to a change in the rules following a clandestine meeting in a Kensington hotel with every official in the land, clubs may now field as many players as they wish. On March 23rd, the blue army come to our gaff and play a 4,000-4,000-2,000 formation ( but still leave Wright-Phillips on the bench ).
With less than a minute to play, the Chelsea players are distracted by wads of fifty pound notes being thrown onto the pitch. Theo steals in and.... (heck, I don't want to give the ending away)