Copied and pasted: Day 1. The plane touched down at Bologne at 11am. The flight had been surprisingly quick. Luckily Adel was quick to spot that we had landed in France. He thought that they might be dropping him off and sending him to Paris in a taxi. "Not your lucky day, son," said Uncle Neil, gripping Adel's wrist and dragging him back onto the plane. After a few words with the pilot and a quick look at the map of Europe in the back of Shaun Derry's PFA diary we were soon flying high again and heading for Bologna. 2pm (local time) we finally made it to Bologna. We were hoping for a quick exit from the airport but had to wait as Jamie mackie was having fun being frisked by the female customs officers. Seven times he was frisked. Apparently the last two weren't even customs officers. One worked in the cafe and the other was a cleaner. Still, he enjoyed himself. I am beginning to wonder about Neil's idea of bonding. As we left the airport and headed for the coach park he made the entire squad pair off and walk in a crocodile holding hands. There was much mirth amongst the airport staff as we snaked our way down to the coach. Of course, Adel didn't want to hold hands with the newboy, Kieron, and had a bit of a benny - so he ended up at the front with Uncle Neil. I was disappointed to see that the hotel hadn't changed much. It still had the cold stone floor in the lobby. You would have thought that they could have got some nice laminate flooring to cover it up. There was the usual rush for the rooms whilst Neil booked us all in and handed out the keys. Everyone wanted the rooms that overlooked the pool. You can get a great view of the women having a swim from the balconies. The big disappointment for everyone was that Neil had odered that the minibars should be emptied. That was quite useful for me, however, as I had three mini cans of coke that I had knicked from the plane. We were given just 20 minutes to unpack our stuff in our rooms and then it was off to a meeting in one of the function rooms. Once we were assembled Jonesy did a head count and found that someone was missing. Paddy Kenny had done a bunk. He was found 15 minutes later sitting on his own in the restaurant staring at the menu, salivating profusely. As a punishment for being late Neil told him that he wasn't going to be allowed any seconds for two whole days. Paddy was not a happy man , but cheered up when Rambo Rammage let him a couple of mars bars from his stash. The meeting started with Neil laying down some ground rules. these had been duplicated and were handed out by Clint. He's a right little teacher's pet sometimes is Clint. 1. No playing with the fire extinguishers. 2. No playing in the lifts. 3. No setting off the fire alarm. (Danny Gabbidon was annoyed about this one ... you know what the Taffs are like when it comes to setting off fire alarms.) 4. No women allowed in the rooms, except cleaners. 4a. No Dominique Strauss-Kahn type activities. (See rule 4) 5. You are responsible for your own kit. Please don't lose any of it. 6. Everyone must be in bed (their own) by 11pm. 7. Nobody is allowed to leave the hotel without permission. After that we all sat down to write a couple of postcards to our families. I know we had just arrived, but if we had left it another day we would have got home before the card. Bloody Italian post. We were allowed a few hours of free time before our evening meal. I stayed on the balcony of my room (overlooking the pool) and watched as some the boys let off steam with a few cames of "It", running round and round the pool. Kaspars and Matthew (Gorkss and Connolly) practiced their synchronized diving, whilst Heidar sat on a sun lounger reading his Harry Potter book. Akos and Adel could be found in the "games room" playing on a PS3 attached to the hotel's 78" TV. Shaun had been asked by Uncle Neil to show the new boys around the hotel. There was a bit of a fuss when Ali Faulin was caught sneaking back into the hotel clutching half a dozen Magnums which he had bought from the shop on the corner. Neil wasn't happy. It's hard on poor Ali. Apparently Paddy had asked him to nip down the shop for him and he swears blind that Jonesy gave him permission. The food here is great. I love spaghetti and there was plenty of that on the menu. It's not the stuff you get in cans, it's the real thing, all long and stringy and you can suck great long strands into your mouth with a noisy slurp. Paddy had the Lasagne. Instead of just three or four layers his had 12! He told me that after Neil had banned him from having seconds he went down to the kitchen and slipped the chef a few Euros. Cunning little devil! After our meal we were supposed to go for a leisurely walk to allow our food to settle. This was called off when it became apparent that there were hundreds of Italian footballers and their agents swarming around in the road in front of the hotel, all of them having already been in contact with Flavio about signing a contract. You have never seen such a collection of wheelchairs, crutches and grey hair in all your life. We ended up sitting in the lounge pondering what we could do when a few of Flavio's business friends arrived to meet the team. They looked pretty smart, I can tell you, in their black suits, white shirts and black ties. It was a pity that their jackets didn't fit properly. Each one seemed to have a bulging bit just under the left armpit. For some reason they did not seem to be too pleased to see Neil. Whilst they mingled with the players and staff one of them took Neil aside and appeared to be discussing tactics with him for over half and hour. Time rolled on and it was soon time for bed. We were sent upstairs by Jonesy at 10.45 but it took until after midnight for everyone to settle down. Fitz Hall was going round hitting everyone with his pillow whilst a few of us were in Bradley's room trying to work out how to get the Porn Channel on the hotel tv without Neil finding out. We were reminded several times that we would have to train in the morning and so we should get our beauty sleep. All hell broke loose at 1 o'clock when screams and shouts were heard coming from the room which Neil and Jonesy share. Now i have heard of the chamber maid turning down the sheets and leaving a chocolate mint on the pillow, but never have I heard of them leaving a horse's head. Neil was rather upset by this. Rumour has it that it was a little joke arranged by Gianni and Flavio. Apparently one of the men in black suits must have put it there earlier in the evening. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Day 2. Breakfast at 8am, which was a little early for some of us. After which we had to make sure that our rooms were tidy for Neil's inspection. The pair with the tidiest room will win a prize at the end of the week. A quick trip on the coach and we arrived at the training ground. New boy Kieron broke rule 5. (There's always one, isn't there.) He forgot to bring his kit. He managed to scrounge a spare top from Jonesy but there were no spare pairs of shorts, so Neil told him that he had to do it in his pants. It was quite a sight. We were all pissing ourselves. I hope someone remembered to take a picture. Neil starts off by explaining exactly what a ball is, then we have to wait for 20 minutes so that Jonesy can show Heidar and Dave what a goal looks like and tell themwhy it is a good thing if they manage to kick or head the ball into it. A bit of running a passing and some small team games rounds off the session, then it is into the showers and back off to the hotel. The lads are gelling well as a group. They all sit roud in a circle and Jonesy hands round the tubs of "Shockwaves" and 30 minutes of concentrated gelling takes place. Great idea Uncle Neil! We have some free time this afternoon and have been split up into groups and are going to have a look around the town. I'll let you know how things went in tomorrow's blog. Cheers.
Very funny Eamon. Bit harsh on Helguson: he clearly knows what a goal is and has perfected the unusual skill of avoiding it even when 6 yards out. Spot on with Dave though. he clearly thinks the corner flag is often the objective.
Now that was very funny, Eamon! A good write. Are you in the business or just playing at being a journalist? But carry on!
