My Sexy Manchester United XI, 1990-present day
GK - Raimond van der Gouw. Nicknamed Raimond van der Gouwgeous by the women at the Cliff training ground, a play on words that doesn't really work at all, for reasons it's easy to see why. Those cheekbones, that smile, that mop of dark hair. Easily United's best looking keeper, exorcising the horrors of Leighton and that fat idiot we got on loan that used to play for Rangers.
RB - Gary Neville. Sometimes what's attractive, what gets your loins a stirring isn't purely aesthetic. Take Gary Neville, whose unusual face and terrible facial hair looks like it was designed for a claymation reworking of Grange Hill. No. What makes Gary Neville internationally recognised shorthand for sex-appeal is his strong sense of moral justice. The brain and heart of Owen Jones wrapped in the torso of a Spartan warrior. From Bury to Rossendale, Gary Neville is sex.
LB - Clayton Blackmore. The inventor of long range freekicks and tanning salons, Clayton Blackmore is a pioneer.. He recently beat Tom Jones to the title of Wales's sexiest ever man, in a poll voted for by me. His cheeky smile and glinting eyes recently caused my sister to tell him "You're trouble. I can tell." while my brother in law desperately tried to change subject while hissing "onday'tay entionmay ermudabay".
CB - Jaap Stam. Tall. Powerful. Bald. The Rock. Michael Chiklis. Vin Diesel. Zamarano bouncing off him. Surging runs out of defence. Grabbing Vieira by the neck as the Arsenal man swims in Stam's eyes. Those ultra tight Lazio shirts never looked better.
CB - Steve Bruce. Granted, it's an unconventional beauty. A nose that can smell round corners has been lost in a face that's aged to look like a rubber Mrs Doubtfire mask. Even in, and at, his prime his shirt burst at the seems (the white away shirt in Rotterdam split in celebration like Barca's defence for the second goal). But that soft North East lilt coupled with the kindly smile hiding a ferocious temper? Phwoar.
RW - Cristiano Ronaldo. The Madeiran Man-God is widely hated in England. But this is because we are all frigid, sexless and pale. Hangovers from the Victorian era where a bare ankle can cause a four page letter to Points of View. Meanwhile Ronaldo struts over the world in tiny briefs and a six-pack so spectacular it's actually a twelve-pack. Brits throw homophobic abuse at him, then go home and cry-wank thinking about him.
LW - Lee Sharpe. In the 1980s Manchester was a dull rainy city wallowing in post-industrial decay. Then Tony Wilson formed Factory records and signed Lee Sharpe from Torquay. His debut album was a hattrick against Arsenal in a speckled blue adidas kit that was, for a while, the only colour in the North of England. I remember seeing him play live for the first time, in the Hacienda. I was stood next to Joy Division, John the Postman, Mick Hucknall and John Cooper Clarke. They went on to form Happy Mondays and open Dry Bar. Lee Sharpe died in 1995 and was sold to Leeds.
CM - Juan Sebastian Veron. Veron once said of Beckham "I don't know whether to tackle him or fuck him." Well I know what I want to do to Veron, and I've no intention of tackling him. Right lads and ladies?
CM - Daley Blind. Cycling through Ancoats on his way to Rudy's, the trendy new pizza gaff on Cotton Street, a Cottonopolis scarf trailing in his wake. On his iPod he listens to some new music I've not even heard of, but he got from Piccadilly Records on a tip off from Juan Mata. He has model looks. A kind, sensitive, ball-playing soul imbued with footballing intelligence. He can even make a man bun look acceptable. If I ever bought Just 17 I'd expect to find a poster of him in there.
CF - Brian McClair. The cerebral Scot once kicked Nigel Winterburn up the hoop. Instant sex symbol status.
CF - Eric Cantona (capt.). Brooding, charismatic, dark, dangerous, protective. Women want to be with him and men also want to be with him. Erect in poise and stature. A philosophy-quoting, street-fighting, goal-scoring appeal to all our innate sexual instincts. Protection, reproduction, cup final goals and double-doubles. I'd let him bum the shit out of me, nqat.
GK - Raimond van der Gouw. Nicknamed Raimond van der Gouwgeous by the women at the Cliff training ground, a play on words that doesn't really work at all, for reasons it's easy to see why. Those cheekbones, that smile, that mop of dark hair. Easily United's best looking keeper, exorcising the horrors of Leighton and that fat idiot we got on loan that used to play for Rangers.
RB - Gary Neville. Sometimes what's attractive, what gets your loins a stirring isn't purely aesthetic. Take Gary Neville, whose unusual face and terrible facial hair looks like it was designed for a claymation reworking of Grange Hill. No. What makes Gary Neville internationally recognised shorthand for sex-appeal is his strong sense of moral justice. The brain and heart of Owen Jones wrapped in the torso of a Spartan warrior. From Bury to Rossendale, Gary Neville is sex.
LB - Clayton Blackmore. The inventor of long range freekicks and tanning salons, Clayton Blackmore is a pioneer.. He recently beat Tom Jones to the title of Wales's sexiest ever man, in a poll voted for by me. His cheeky smile and glinting eyes recently caused my sister to tell him "You're trouble. I can tell." while my brother in law desperately tried to change subject while hissing "onday'tay entionmay ermudabay".
CB - Jaap Stam. Tall. Powerful. Bald. The Rock. Michael Chiklis. Vin Diesel. Zamarano bouncing off him. Surging runs out of defence. Grabbing Vieira by the neck as the Arsenal man swims in Stam's eyes. Those ultra tight Lazio shirts never looked better.
CB - Steve Bruce. Granted, it's an unconventional beauty. A nose that can smell round corners has been lost in a face that's aged to look like a rubber Mrs Doubtfire mask. Even in, and at, his prime his shirt burst at the seems (the white away shirt in Rotterdam split in celebration like Barca's defence for the second goal). But that soft North East lilt coupled with the kindly smile hiding a ferocious temper? Phwoar.
RW - Cristiano Ronaldo. The Madeiran Man-God is widely hated in England. But this is because we are all frigid, sexless and pale. Hangovers from the Victorian era where a bare ankle can cause a four page letter to Points of View. Meanwhile Ronaldo struts over the world in tiny briefs and a six-pack so spectacular it's actually a twelve-pack. Brits throw homophobic abuse at him, then go home and cry-wank thinking about him.
LW - Lee Sharpe. In the 1980s Manchester was a dull rainy city wallowing in post-industrial decay. Then Tony Wilson formed Factory records and signed Lee Sharpe from Torquay. His debut album was a hattrick against Arsenal in a speckled blue adidas kit that was, for a while, the only colour in the North of England. I remember seeing him play live for the first time, in the Hacienda. I was stood next to Joy Division, John the Postman, Mick Hucknall and John Cooper Clarke. They went on to form Happy Mondays and open Dry Bar. Lee Sharpe died in 1995 and was sold to Leeds.
CM - Juan Sebastian Veron. Veron once said of Beckham "I don't know whether to tackle him or fuck him." Well I know what I want to do to Veron, and I've no intention of tackling him. Right lads and ladies?
CM - Daley Blind. Cycling through Ancoats on his way to Rudy's, the trendy new pizza gaff on Cotton Street, a Cottonopolis scarf trailing in his wake. On his iPod he listens to some new music I've not even heard of, but he got from Piccadilly Records on a tip off from Juan Mata. He has model looks. A kind, sensitive, ball-playing soul imbued with footballing intelligence. He can even make a man bun look acceptable. If I ever bought Just 17 I'd expect to find a poster of him in there.
CF - Brian McClair. The cerebral Scot once kicked Nigel Winterburn up the hoop. Instant sex symbol status.
CF - Eric Cantona (capt.). Brooding, charismatic, dark, dangerous, protective. Women want to be with him and men also want to be with him. Erect in poise and stature. A philosophy-quoting, street-fighting, goal-scoring appeal to all our innate sexual instincts. Protection, reproduction, cup final goals and double-doubles. I'd let him bum the shit out of me, nqat.
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