Another transfer target, apparently we are doing battle with Villa for his signature. He's a 6"5 holding midfielder,22 years old, currently playing for Augsburg (who are having a great season by the way) and the Germany U21 side. A promising young player, would be a good addition and the lure of Europe might be a bonus for us. http://www.independent.co.uk/sport/...attle-for-german-star-kevin-vogt-9324812.html
Look a good prospect, I see he supports Aluko, as his shirt says AL-KO, obviously the missing letter is a "U"
If Augsburg miss out on Europa League then I could see that working in our favour. I watch the Bundesliga most weekends and he's been a bright talent would be worth signing him for the right price
At this point it may be worth me saying that my dad is called Kevin, but he's like 50-something. Which is my point.
As this thread meanders off on it's own course I was reminded of this classic football rant, from I believe a Sheff U supporter:- I'm feeling all angry about these modern day footballers and I know why they have gone all soft. It's because of poncy names. That's what it is. Remember the old days when footy players kicked a f*cking ball made out of ten pounds of clay stitched inside a steel reinforced leather shell with laces made out of piano wire? Well, in them days, players could only survive the rigours of the game because they were called things like Albert, Arthur, Bert, Harry, Bill, Eddie, Bob, Jack and Stan. F*cking tough names for tough men them was. And what do we have now? Gareth, Jason, Dale, Dean, Ryan, Jamie, Robbie. F*cking tarts names they are. Great big f*cking ****s. No wonder the ball's like a f*cking balloon and shin pads are like slices of bread. In the old days you never saw a Len Shackleton or Billy Wright with a ****y little Sondico piece of paper down his little thin socks. F*cking shin pads in them days was made out of library books and socks was like sackcloth. Same with jerseys. F*cking shirts with holes in 'em now so they can breathe. Yes and so Jamie's hairless chest can breathe and he doesn't get a chill. F*ck off. Stanley Matthews used to dribble round Europe's finest wearing a f*cking tent and shorts cobbled together from the jacket of his demob suit. Aye he bloody did. No wonder players fall over whenever an opponent comes near them. And they never used to show their @rses at one another either. Can you imagine what might have happened if Don Revie had flashed his ring at Nat Lofthouse during a City-Bolton Wanderers game? He'd have got one of them size 13 hobnail f*ckers up his chuff. F*cking therapy for stress my arse! Stan Colleymore slaps his missus about and he takes three seasons off with stress counselling. What is that all about? In the old days, it was expected for footballers to belt the old sow about a bit, especially after a bad defeat. And the old women used to expect it and so they should have, they was lucky to be married to footballers. Ernie McShi** of Port Vale got run over with a horse and cart one Friday night and still he turned out against Bradford the next day. And he scored two goals. That's cos he didn't have a **** name. Good old Ernie. It is said he broke his hip, both legs, murdered his wife and buried her under the patio and still made the England team for the home internationals. Did he have any stress counselling? Did he b*llocks! And drugs? There was none of that in the old days. Oh no. In them days it was a quick shot of morphine before the kick off and you was lucky if you got that. By half time it had all but wore off so they pumped you full of Laudanum. None of this cocaine sniffing and shooting up class A narcotics. Goal celebrations. Don't talk to me about goal celebrations. Crawling on the floor and thrusting their hips at the crowd. Huh, I'd have liked to have seen Cliff Bastin do that after a run down the left flank and crossing for Alex James to fire home a winner. Handshakes, that was all you got. That and a w*nk in the showers afterwards. But it was a proper w*nk....all man stuff. None of these ****y w*nks between blokes that you get nowadays with players like Graeme Le Saux and Stephen Gerrard. Allegedly. It was just a harmless bit of spanking the plank among healthy young sportsmen. Sixty grand a f*cking week! Ha! I wouldn't pay 'em tuppence. Two bob is what Tommy Lawton used to get....a month! And Tom Finney still worked as a plumber four days a week when he was playing for England. Its true you know. Players had to work them days just to make up their money. Not like today. Stan Pearson had to clean sewers and doubled up as the Old Trafford sh*thouse cleaner. He had to go off during one game because a log jam had built up and blocked the "U" bend. And that Eddie Hapgood, he was a male model, though he never liked to talk about it. So I say we start calling kids real male names again. If you're having a kid don't even consider a ****y name like what people call their kids these days. Otherwise, what are we gonna get in twenty years time? The England team full of players called Ronan, Keanu, Ashley and f*cking Chesney. F*ck that, call your kids Herbert, Len, Fred and Wilf and lets get the ****s out of the game once and for all!"
I wonder what he thought of Paulhino and Adebayor's actions in the wall against West Ham at the weekend, absolutely pathetic!
Not as rare as you'd think. Kevin De Bruyne is 22 as well. I can't help thinking dark forces are at work here, it's just too much of a coincidence.
There's a Barry Maguire playing in Holland somewhere. He's half Irish, half Dutch. As for old school names, Winston Reid, Eric Lamela, Bryan Oveido, Erik Pieters, Harry Kane, Jack Colback, Albert Adomah, Bob Harris, Ed Upson, all play in the top two divisions. EDIT: Bob Harris is now at Sheffield United, who are third tier. Still, good name.
I went on a stag do to Munich a few months back and went to a Ausberg match. Dont recall seeing him, but you could drink in the stands. The two are possibly related.
