The secret diary of Wayne Rooney
The Roar has been lucky enough to stumble upon an exclusive extract from Wayne Rooney’s diary as he awaits his debut in Polkraine. For those not in the know, Rooney is suspended until the third match of the pool rounds.
It’s been a whirlwind week as the English team arrives in Krakow to prepare for Euro 2012. Wayne goes to his first training session, tries some local cuisine and fights with John Terry.
Checked into our hotel. Flight was ok. Killed time playing cards with Jones, Young and Welbeck, but Gary Neville kept heading to the back of the plane, hounding us to sing ‘Glory, Glory, Man United’. He never quits. Found out that I’ll be rooming with Jack Butland. Jack effing Butland! I had to call the Gaffer to check he was in the squad. I thought he was there to clean the room. At least I’m not with John Terry. On the team bus he kept chirping on about winning the Champions League, until Neville yelled out ‘missed your penalty’ and ran to the front of the plane to hide next to the Gaffer.
Just finished our first training session. The Gaffer keeps calling me Wayne Wooney which pisses me off. Normally I can’t understand a word Fergie says. His thick Scottish brogue mixed with Johnny Walker makes him sound like a drunken Scot. But at least he gets my name right. The Gaffer wants us to experience local culture so we’re heading out for dinner tonight.
Neville wants to sit next to me at the restaurant. I tell him we should sit apart so Colleen doesn’t get jealous. She might have gotten over the granny and the crack whore, but if she sees me eating with Neville she’ll rip my balls off. He’s not happy, but wants to share a dessert after. Bloody hell, forgot to pack my Rogaine. Need to buy some tomorrow otherwise the lads might notice my hair isn’t natural. I wonder what’s Polish for Rogaine.
Feel like crap. Ate too many pierogi last night. Good thing I packed some cans of beans and ham for emergencies. The waitress said I was shaped like a pierogi which got everyone laughing. Bastards. Even the Gaffer joined in, calling me Piewogi Wooney. Henderson kept sniggering and muttering piewogi under his breath until I told him I’d give him a Manchester kiss. He didn’t get it so I told him it’s like a Liverpool kiss, only it’s a winner. That shut him up.
Training went for hours. The Gaffer had us crossing the ball into the box, but Stewart Downing kept kicking straight at the first defender or out of bounds. We all had to wait until he got it right. Frickin useless. Neville yelled out that all United players can cross the ball. The Gaffer sent him off to cut up some owanges. Neville told me he’d save the biggest orange for me.
Got into a fight with Terry today. He was walking around the change room butt naked except for a white pointy hood. Ashley’s Cole and Young weren’t impressed. JT bought a replica Germany shirt so if they win he can still head onto the pitch in full kit to celebrate. What a dickhead. Then he starts asking me why I won’t undress, making a really big show in front of everyone. He even tried ripping my shirt off. I told him where to go and stormed off. I couldn’t let them see the ‘Toffee for Life’ tattoo on my chest.
Training again, and spent most of the time chasing down passes from Gerrard, Henderson and Downing. No wonder King Kenny looked like he was taking a massive dump all last season. He should be happy he got the arse. Fergie would have a stroke if we passed like that. God I wish Scholes was here. I scored a killer goal though. We’re running drills and the Gaffer yells ‘Have a cwack Wooney!’ I curled it past Hart from about 40 yards out. Neville got so excited he started convulsing and kissing the United badge under his England tracksuit.
Going to hit the all you can eat buffet downstairs with Andy Carroll. The Gaffer told him he’s not playing tomorrow so we’re going to see who can eat the most kielbasa. Andy’s a tosser, but at least I’ll get a few hours peace from Neville, thank Christ. He’s been a vegan ever since Beckham stopped eating meat.
We drew 1-1 with France. Joleon Lescott scored and screamed ‘City’ when he ran to the bench to celebrate. Asshole. Everyone’s happy with the point, but I thought we were pretty shite. The French are weak as piss. I would have kicked the crap out of them. The team’s heading out, but I’m going to stay in and read more of ‘The Hunger Games’. The main character, Katniss Everdeen, is just like me. Strong, independent, and she can do everything singlehandedly. Damn…Neville’s at the door. He wants to go to the movies to watch ‘What to expect when you’re expecting’. I need to hide under the bed until he racks off. I’ll write again tomorrow.