The worst striker that I've ever seen play for Manchester City never actually played for Manchester City. Let me explain....
Kevin Keegan was appointed manager of City before the 2001-2002 season and he promptly got us promoted to the Premier League playing some of the best football seen at the club in modern times. Keegan being Keegan – he had filled the fans with optimism for the forthcomoing season and was certainly not shy of getting the cheque book out to ensure our stay in the top flight wasn’t as short-lived as under Joe Royle’s group of ‘honest’ ‘hard-working’ paceless and uninspring plodders.
One of these signings was Matías Vuoso. He was an Argentinian (ooooh EXCITING) striker who Keegan paid Independiente £3.5m for. He came with a good reputation and such was the hype in the press about the chase for his signature, I was mightily relieved to hear he had eventually signed given the giants of the game that were supposedly chasing him. Once signed I had a look at his stats. Mmmm….2 years, 65 appearances, 14 goals. Not great, but I suppose you have to pay for potential.
People were in hysterics around me and the lad didn’t even look arsed
In order to see our great new hope in action my mate Rob and I broke a habit of a lifetime and went to a midweek pre-season game on a dank and gloomy summer evening in Preston. When we got there our Blue shirted heroes were warming up in front of us. We located Vuoso and analysed his movement as the players were put through their paces – is…is…is he a hunchback??? We looked at each other in horror. What in the name of God was this? He wasn’t a professional footballer, I could tell that within seconds. He had all the grace, panache and movement of Stephen Hawking on a beach. NO NO NO NO…..I was being harsh, he could come to life on the pitch.
So I kept my counsel and within minutes of the game starting I was about to see what he was really made of. Our new hero somehow managed to get a bit of room down the right of the penalty box and was slipped in. This was it, we were about to see the first goal of the man that would be a legend – Ball, Lee and Sumerbee rolled into one slightly hunched and odd looking South American. I gripped Rob’s coat sleeve and left my seat as he drew back his right foot and….toe bunged it at the advertising hoardings. WHAT THE F***ING HELL WAS THAT??? People were in hysterics around me and the lad didn’t even look arsed. That game was the highlight of his City career and he left after zero competitive appearances for the club. Absolute sh**.
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