Um…‘A very Happy flippin’ Christmas to you all’. That’s what the Queen usually says, see, just after you’ve eaten your meat and settled down in front of the telly. Well, I’ve been asked to do what she does. I don’t mean wear a crown and go about with that flippin’ mad man Prince Phillip! That bloke is always so flippin’ angry – I can’t understand it. No, I’m not going to pretend that I’m related to someone like him – and I’m not going to be wearing a frock, neither! No, I’ve been asked to give me own special Christmas Speech to all the Kopites out there. So that’s what this is, see? Not ‘The Queen’s Speech,’ but rather ‘The Craig’s Speech’. (It’s going all right so far, I think, and I’m not even using notes!) Right, erm: ‘Happy Christmas’ – hang on, I’ve already said that. Never mind: ‘Happy Christmas’ again!
Anyway, now that all the niceties are out the way, let’s get on with it: All right, mates? You had a heck of a year, eh? I can sympathise - because I have had an even WORSE year than that! Your mate Craig has had one ruddy HECK of a flippin' year!
First of all there was the fall-out from all of that hoo-hah about that bald-headed twerp Alan Shearer. Yes, in the past, quite a while ago, I did send him text messages laughing about him and his fellow barcodes, but that was in the past. Why he has persisted in sending me messages saying he’s going to knock my block off I do not know. Some people just can’t take a joke. Anyway, I rose above it all during me time at Blackburn. But Blackburn also became a bit of a problem, and all because of me on-off business partner Robbie ‘Gaylord’ Savage. I mean, imagine putting up with THAT every flamin’ day! As I may have mentioned before at some point in me diary, we got so far in planning our joint-owned trout farm, and then Savage – who, to be brutally frank, is a bit ‘simple’ - started with all the stupid questions: ‘Does this mean we can have chickens as well?’ ‘I want sole control of any tractor’. ‘Will the trout need milking?’ ‘How many troutesses will we need for breeding purposes?’ On and on he went. I couldn’t stand it – I mean, it’s not like I even LIKE fish! I’d say, ‘Look, Robbie, boyo, once we sign the deeds and all that sort of doo-dah I’m going to appoint a trusted colleague of Roger Daltrey to oversee the running of the farm, so just LEAVE it!’ But he wouldn’t. He was an absolute girl! Then, of course, there was the Wales thing. He got dead jealous of me, did Robbie, when he threw his toys out the pram and went off in a sulk while I, being a proper proud Welshman (rather than just a girly haircut on legs), stayed available for the squad. Loads of stupid pranks and abusive phone calls have followed, but we’re still mates, sort of. I just happen to think he’s a flippin’ idiot.
Granted, there were a few bright spots for me in 2006. Signing for Liverpool was, of course, fan-flippin’-tastic. I’ve always been a Red, see. Spookily, years ago, me Mam bought me an infant’s size home shirt with ‘Barnes’ printed on the back. I say ‘spookily,’ because I was fifteen at the time and, for some strange reason, the shirt still fitted me! Anyway, signing for me favourite club was a huge thrill. Plenty of meat was eaten in the valleys on THAT day, I can assure you! It was also pretty great when I was made acting captain of Wales, even though the whole flippin’ team proceeded to let me down by getting flamin’ hammered!
Er, I also finally succumbed to pressure (from her indoors) and married the missus. We had a very classy and tasteful wedding – I wore a white top hat and tails, she was all in pink – and then had a great old knees-up afterwards that was only spoiled when some of me old mates from Splott – totally drunk the lot of ‘em - got the ‘hilarious’ idea that they should ‘put Craig back on the top of the wedding cake where he belongs’. They flippin’ well ruined me suede shoes, and the flamin’ cake was a disaster area. I was not a happy bunny, let me assure you of that!
More positively, I was as proud as flippin’ Punch to be asked to become the official celebrity face for the north-west region not only of Mini Peperamis but also of Mini Pringles! Absolutely superb! And as for ‘The Craig Bellamy Collection,’ well, pop into Argos in 2007. You will not be flippin’ disappointed!
Finally, of course, there was all the court case doo-dah with that mad woman who claimed I insulted her so badly her tits blew up. Well, your mate Craig emerged from that little episode with just as much integrity as he had, er, when he went into it, which means that…er…(I’m getting a bit lost here)…er, what it means is that I flippin’ well flamin’ WON! Oh yes! That showed them!
Erm, now, Her Majesty, like, she usually waffles on a bit at this point about other ‘world events’ and wotnot, so I’d better do a bit of that, too, I suppose. Er, I won’t go into any depth about ‘The Commonwealth,’ because, to be honest, I have absolutely no idea what the heck it is, and I don’t much care. As far as I can make out it’s still pretty much as it was, and where it was, a year ago, so let’s draw a veil over that particular topic, eh?
Politics. That’s more like it. I’ve got plenty of opinions about politics, me. First, right, that Tony Blair: I mean, what a TOOL! He should’ve gone ages ago. He’s Scottish, he’s English, he’s a Geordie, he’s a Cockney, he’s a public schoolboy who thinks he’s a man of the people, and he’s married to a flippin’ LETTERBOX! I mean: what the flamin’ heck is THAT all about? Then there’s Gordon flamin’ Brown: I mean, the man can’t even control his tongue inside his own mouth! What’s he going to be like with the flippin’ Cabinet?? And what’s with that red flamin’ tie he always insists on wearing? Where’s he think he is – the flippin’ Sixth Form?? Community College??? What flamin’ well next – a flippin’ peace badge, a Paul Weller record and a bottle of flamin’ cider??? Insult his dad and throw up on the flamin’ living room carpet?? GROW UP MAN! And wash your flamin’ hair an’ all while you’re at it – you’re a flippin’ disgrace!!! As for David flippin’ Cameron: well, I’ve seen more exciting things in the middle of flamin’ NORWICH! The LibDems are hardly worth me while discussing: I mean, they seem to spend most of their time playing with each others’ manifestoes! Put ’em away!!! Flamin’ perves! Take that flippin’ TOOL who looks like an Identikit picture that a cleaner’s accidentally knocked on the floor, picked up and put back together in the wrong order. Lembit Opik! That’s the one. Lembit flippin’ Opik! I mean, even his NAME is mental!!! And now he’s dating one of them flamin’ Cheeky Girls!!!! Quite frankly, the whole lot of ‘em need their heads banging together, and, if someone’ll fetch me a stool, I’ll be flippin’ only too happy to flamin’ well oblige!
Education. All right. I’ll keep this brief: read some flippin’ BOOKS!!! And – here’s another thing - don’t tell me something in such a way as to make me think that you’re asking me a question! If I say, like, ‘What’s your name, sonny?’ And you say back, ‘Peter?’ I’m going to think: ‘He doesn’t even know if he’s called Peter or he’s NOT called Peter!’ If your name IS flippin’ Peter, say ‘Peter’ – don’t say ‘Peter?’ Like there’s a question mark. I mean: FOR GOD’S SAKE!!! What do you expect me to do, get a card out me pocket, look at it, shake me head and say: ‘It’s good, but it’s not right’???? I mean, the world is going flippin’ flamin’ MAD!!! Oh yes, and one more thing: 1970s-style heavy metal music is NOT – I repeat NOT - making a comeback, no matter how much some of you flippin’ lanky, skanky, scrotum-scratching teenagers seem to think otherwise, so TURN IT OFF!!!
Erm…what next? (I wish I’d prepared now!) Um…oh yeah, I know:
Housing. Well, I suppose we need a few more houses, eh? Here and there. They always come in handy, like. So I think we need to keep the building ticking over. But I’ll tell you this for free: you can build as many empty houses as you like: your mate Craig will start an argument in NONE of them. Fact.
The environment. That’s another topic. I’m a bit torn on this one, to be honest. I like the idea of organic meat, but I’d also like me bins emptied a bit more often. Next!
Culture (by which I include telly as well as books, making ceramic pots and all that painting and wotnot). Well, I’ve seen better years, to be honest. For every absolutely flippin’ top class bit of telly such as Diagnosis Murder there are several piles of doo-dah like Dickinson’s Real Deal. I’d also like to see more Welsh people on the telly. I know we’ve got that newsreader bloke with the short haircut and Charlotte flippin’ Church, but they don’t count, because both of ‘em are flippin’ TOOLS! No, I’d like lots more nice, friendly, intelligent Welsh lads on the telly. Like me. Other things? Well, I’d like to see that absolute buffoon Simon Cowell banned from the flippin’ telly for ever! The flamin’ IDIOT! ‘Music expert’? I wouldn’t trust him to turn on the flippin’ radio! He’s a flamin’ HAIRDRESSER – no more, no less. What else? Well, I don’t want to be asked all the time to phone up and vote – I’M BUSY WATCHING THE FLAMIN’ TELLY!!!! And I don’t want that flippin’ Vanessa Feltz on the telly either! Madness! And if you’ve got anything in your attic that you want to sell – congratulations! Now go away and flippin’ well sell it and leave me alone!!! I could be watching flippin’ Bilko instead of you!!! As for ‘arts’ shows, I’ll say this much for free: Melvyn Bragg – BLOW YOUR FLAMIN’ NOSE! Alan Yentob – YOU’RE A VERY UGLY MAN – RUN AND HIDE!!!!
Actually, before we move on, here’s another thing that rattled me this year. Everyone on the telly these days says ‘plus’ when they actually mean ‘and’ or ‘also’. Now, I’ve never, ever, gone in to the butchers and said, ‘Oh, I’ll have some meat, please, plus…some more meat’. Well, okay, maybe that’s not a great example, but you know what I mean – ‘Oh, plus, well be talking to…’ What absolute CONKERS! It’s ‘AND’!!!!
Oh yes, and let me just say this to that flippin’ flamin’ PIXIE Pete Doherty: sort yourself out, lad, for once and for flamin’ all! You’ve even forgotten to put a ‘c’ in your name, you flippin’ lazy drugged-up idiot! Either get a record in the top ten or SHUT UP! And while you’re at it: try having a flamin’ BATH every now and again!!!!
Multi-Culturalism. I used to think this just meant you’d got some records AND books in the house, but I now know it’s more complicated than that. This is a bit of a hot topic, this one, and I don’t want them Hogatollahs to issue one of them Feta things against me like they did to that miserable bald bloke Rushdie. I will say this though: as anyone who’s seen me Great Auntie Bronwyn will agree, some women do look a little bit better with the odd bit of cloth over their face. Just an observation, like, no offence intended. What I DO take exception to is them All Blacks doing all that shouting, jumping and gesturing before a rugby match. They claim it’s all right because it’s ‘tradition’: yeah, right, well, if I was standing there for Wales and you started THAT sort of nonsense, I’d be right over and giving you a flamin’ SLAP! That’s MY tradition!!! Flippin’ New Zealanders! New Zealand’s like a second-rate Wales but with fewer people, cars, telly, decent singers or proper supermarkets! Absolute CONKERS!
All right. Let’s finish with some of me wishes for the coming year:
· First of all: a regular starting place in the team. Not on the bench. On the pitch. And not just for a couple of minutes before being subbed. I don’t want any loopholes here. I mean ON THE PITCH FOR THE DURATION. Unless me knees start aching a bit – then, by all means, you can take me off, but NOT before that. Right?
· Second: get some referee’s assistants who KNOW THE FLIPPIN’ OFFSIDE RULE!!!!
· Third: sort out the names of each day of the week. I think I’ve already made my views clear to you as to what a load of CONKERS I think the name ‘Tuesday’ is, but, to be frank, the whole week needs knocking into proper flippin’ shape. If anyone high up at the United Nations or somewhere wants to set up a committee to sort it all out I’ll be happy to chair it.
· Fourth: Give Dick Van Dyke a Lifetime Achievement Award at the Oscars for his work on Diagnosis Murder. Why? Have you not seen the show? The man is flippin’ magnificent!
· Fifth: Launch an antidote to ‘Jamie’s School Dinners’ – ‘CRAIG’S SCHOOL DINNERS’! Proper roasted meat for every boy and girl on a daily basis. I tell you: launch that and we’ll be a flippin’ healthy and decent society again in no flamin’ time at all!
· Sixth: It’s high time ASBOs started working. Say, for the sake of argument, a perfectly responsible adult is subjected to a stupid and remorseless campaign of verbal abuse and knowingly bad service by, say, for the sake of argument, a paperboy: the flippin’ law should do its job. I mean, what’s the flippin’ adult supposed to do when his favourite magazine comes through the letterbox looking like it’s just been flamin’ well fellated by Janet Street Porter? Smack the idiot who did it? That’d get his dad turning up threatening me, I mean this bloke, with physical violence, and we can’t have that. So come on: get it sorted!
· Seventh: I’d like me neck to grow just a tiny bit more. Then I’ll be pretty much perfect.
· Eighth: I want to see one of them EU directive doo-dahs issued to stop women guzzling away on them absolutely stupid ‘friendly bacteria’ yoghurt drinks. The whole thing is complete and utter madness and it’s costing me a flamin’ fortune! I mean, I thought salads were bad enough but this is downright INSANE!
· Ninth: it’s high time that whoever keeps scratching my car on match days is caught and brought to justice. I’m absolutely sick of it.
· Tenth: Did I mention the offside rule? WELL SORT IT OUT THEN!!!!
Well, that’s about it from me in this, the very first, ‘Craig’s Christmas Speech’. Apparently Her Majesty ends her speech by saying that she hopes everybody ‘will have a very Happy Christmas this year’ – which seems a bit obvious, doesn’t it? I mean, what’s the point of wishing you a very Happy Christmas for NEXT year – that’s just plain impatient – or LAST year – that’s flippin’ pointless. Anyway, then she says summat like, ‘and I hope that you go into the New Year with renewed hope and confidence’. Well, all right, I’ll say that then: your mate Craig hopes that you’ll all have a flippin’ very Happy Christmas – no, I’m not doing that ‘this year’ thing, it’s absolute CONKERS! – and I also hope that you have a flamin’ superb 2007!
CHEERS!
.
