Rio Booed

[Bazf]

RIO FERDINAND was booed by his OWN fans as Manchester United outclassed Charlton.

The England defender, spotted meeting Chelsea chief executive Peter Kenyon last month, is stalling on a new contract after demanding a £120,000-a-week deal.

United boss Alex Ferguson said: “It does not sit easily with the fans of this club if players are not signing new contracts. The supporters deserve a decision.

“We’ve made him a great offer. I only wish someone would offer me the same.

“His agent has been out of the country this weekend so progress is slow. I want it sorted before the FA Cup final and we won’t be going any higher.

“I think we’ll get the outcome we want because I think Rio wants to stay — but you never know what advice he’s getting.

“If his agent says no, we will not be panicked into selling. We will make him see out the remaining two years of his contract.”


MORE LIKELY IT WILL HAPPEN THIS WAY..................



This weeks diary entry for Rio Ferdinand:

Monday
Well, I've been doin sum thinkin you see, and I've just been told by My Agent dat Chelsea want to sign me. Quite a surprise when day has the likes of Terry & Kazman, there already... Oh, now I see.

Anyway, I've been told by da Agent to fink about wever I want to join them or not, so I decided to draw up a list of da benefits of joining Chelsea and da benefits of staying at Manu. It took me a good half an hour to do, even dow I spent just two minutes on da list.

As you can imagine I couldn't make my mind up, so I picked up the phone and rang the gaffer to ask for 48 hours to fink about it.
"F**k-off, what da hell do I care u cockney edjit!" was the reply.
Note to Rio: I must update the 'Gaffer' entry in my phone from Terry Venables.


Tuesday
Still having trouble deciding what to do, I am staring at my list hoping for somefing to influence my finking.

Den out from the blue (well, actually it was from outside) dare was a knocking on my door. I opened in and saw dis fella dat looked like a Gypo.

'Eh, Rio. I've come to tell you your fortune.' He said with a slight Foriein accent. 'Wicked!' I said and gave him my palms.
'Ah! You we nay be needing that.' He said taking my shoe off. He was obviously a foot reader, although he spent most of his time looking at da top of my foot and I am sure he said somefing like 'at least this meta somefing isn't made of glass'.


Anyway, at da end of it he said:
'Aye, I see Blue, umm'yes Blue is better than Red'.
I told him dat I wasn't bovered about the colour of the living room and dat I would be glad if he could tell me what team I should join instead.
'Ok. Ah! I see a devil, yes, a red devil and you are walking away from it'. Away from a Red rose.' He said.
'Look mate, I don't know what planet your from but your making as much sense as Lee Bowyer's court confessions'. I replied.
'For goodness sake! You're gonna join Chelsea ya stupid bastard!' He said whilst storming out of the house.

What a spot of luck that he came to visit me, I thought.


Wednesday
Right, my mind was made up! I wanted a transfer and I went in to the Man u office to ask Sarah my sexy-tree to fax my transfer request to Mr Ferguson and my shopping list to Sainsbury's. Well at least I thought I did it like that until Mr Ferguson phoned me from Manchester and asked why the hell I wanted him to get me a pair of English cox's followed by "aren't Brown and Smith enough".

I got Sarah to fax da right request to Mr Ferguson who phoned me up to ave words. He told me I was goin nowhere, but I told him I had my foot read by a Portuguese Gypsy.
He's now coming back from holiday to conduct a drugs test.


Thursday
Went in to training at Man U and met wif Mr Ferguson . We ad a good chat and I read out my list of Chelsea benefits, which I had hidden up my sleeve. He agreed dat kicking Gallis everyday would be ard to resist, but we will ave to wait and see if an offer came in.

I fought I erd my fortune-teller on TV today, but when I turned around it was just Jose Mourino doin an interview. I wonder if I'll have to call him Joesy when I play for them.


Friday
Out of da blue, Chelsea made a bid for me today. My fortune-teller was right, I wouldn't of ad a clue udderwise. It was rejected, but my agent was very excited and told me dat Chelsea would come back wif more.

However, he also told me I would be offered a four year-olds contract. I fought dats not right, my Mum told me I am 26. Still, wif da money dat four year-olds get at Chelsea, I can't complain.

Saturday
Fings are hotting up. Chelsea and Man U are still in talks at da moment. Mr Ferguson allows me to stay at home after I fax im to tell im I had a slight groin strain. I fought at least dat wasn't disgusting in any way, until my agent tells me I ad spelt strain wrong. In fact I ad told Mr Ferguson I ad a 'groin stain', which sounded worse dan my coffee table incident before.

Sunday
Da two clubs ave agreed a fee for me and at last I am going to be a Chelsea player. All I have to do is pretend I'm a five-year old and I might get a better contract. I also ave to ave a medical test, so I ave been looking after and preparing myself for dat - hopefully it will be multiple-choice.

What can I say, my fortune-teller was right and what great timing for him to pop round.
Ha! And day warned me dat JOESY would try and illegally approach me. What da hell do day know?