Happy Friday, Spursland! Gang, we all love sports. If not, what the hell are you still reading this for? But more than sports, we like drinking while watching and maybe even while playing sports (what up, wiffleball?). It is the best.
So I can not maintain my reputation as someone of solid moral character not point out to you that SB Nation's cycling juggernaut Podium Cafe is having theme wines to go along with each stage of the Tour De France. It's both fancy and drunk, which is how I like the wealthy widows I marry before divorcing them for the money.
And now the "news"
The brand value for "first team players" -- much like using "England International" to describe someone who got a sub with five minutes left in a summer friendly with Andorra -- is extremely diminished. The only person on that list that is actually first choice at their position is Benny. It's a classic Levy bargain. "Come on, guys. Lower your price for the thing I want and, oh yeah, can you take my trash for me?"
I think your articles might be offside. Because I don't think this is true. My money is on a deal to Crystal Palace.
I cannot fault the guy for this, as I myself have once been forced to hide in a ladies toilet. You see, it was the end of my freshmen year of college and upon returning from a formal gathering where nobody noticed I was 18 I was falling down drunk and clutching and empty bottle of Merlot. In order to avoid contact with a rapidly approaching R.A., who would in all likelihood report my underage drinking, a friend (who I had just head-locked then fell over on top of while announcing how many babies her and her then boyfriend would have) pushed me into the ladies bathroom. Unfortunately, that was where the R.A., in question was going. I greeted her with a slurred "yup, this happened".
No, they can't. You see, friends, when you are the Devil, there ain't no getting out of hell.
SPECULATION MOUNTS! Except not really. Moyes has already said he isn't leaving.
Although that knife is totally badass.