Wednesday, October 26, 2016
Dear Diary,
It's me, Basti, completely ignoring my first language and writing to you in what Quinton Fortune recently described as "surprisingly good" English!
First of all, let me apologise: I haven't been keeping up with these diary entries lately. If truth be told, I've had little time to spare in between training with the Under-6s and Instagramming pictures of my immaculately-dressed self on walks around Cheshire.
Speaking of Instagram, I've been given one of those fancy corporate boxes at Old Trafford for the Manchester derby tonight. One picture of me wishing my teammates good luck from there should rack up a good few thousand likes.
Pretty sure it can't be long before I'm back in that first team, too.
Speak soon!
Basti
Thursday, October 27, 2016
Dear Diary,
It's me again. I went to the match last night and, sure enough, my Instagram post really caught fire (250,000 likes!)
Unfortunately, I wasn't allowed to stay in the corporate box. A few minutes before kick-off, Ed Woodward entered with a number of chaps from our soon-to-be official mattress and pillow partners and told me I would have to go somewhere else.
I couldn't get a seat at this point and so I went and sat by myself in my club Chevrolet in the car park, and listened to it on the radio.
We won 1-0!
I've text the boss to see if I can start training with the first team again. Fingers crossed!
Basti
Friday, October 28, 2016
Dear Diary,
Although I completely believed him when he told me that he'd "accidentally" locked me in that dark AON Training Complex storage cupboard for 17 straight days over the summer, I'm now starting to think the boss doesn't like me. :(
After texting him last night, he called me to his office today to discuss why I hadn't been training with the first team squad.
He didn't speak at first, only pointing me to a chair on the other side of his desk. Having taken a seat opposite me, he took out a packet of digestive biscuits and a rolling pin from the top draw of his desk.
Laying the packet of biscuits on the desk, he began pounding them with the rolling pin. After a minute or so, he stood, opened the packet and poured the fragmented biscuits on to his desk.
"Your knees," he uttered, before opening the door and pointing me in the direction of the corridor.
Speak soon,
Basti
Saturday, October 29, 2016
Dear Diary,
After yesterday's meeting with the boss, the guys' 0-0 draw with Burnley today has left me feeling flat. Not because we didn't win, but more because the goalless draw reminded me of happier times at Old Trafford under Louis van Gaal.
How I miss the good old days of sitting in the United midfield as we struggled to break down teams put together for a fraction of the cost of Paul Pogba's collection of basketball vests, watching Marouane Fellaini fail to control my five-yard sideways passes, and wondering if Paddy McNair would have got in to the Bayern Munich side.
Anyway, things are looking up! After the match, the boss inboxed me on Instagram to say that he wanted me to be involved with first-team training tomorrow.
Looks like the Deutsche Fußball Meister is back in the picture! Metaphorically, at least...
Sunday, October 30, 2016
Dear Diary,
Sure enough, I was involved in training, but it wasn't what I'd expected. :(
The boss ordered me to put out all the cones and flags before the session, as well as asking me to fill and refill water bottles with Memphis Depay.
Towards the end of the session, I watched my team take part in a game of headers and volleys, before the boss finally asked me to go in the goal as the squad played what is known in England as 'red arse' (the idea is they fire footballs at your backside as hard as they possibly can). Luckily for me, they continued their form from the weekend, missing every single shot.
I was most unpleased that I didn't actually get to have a kick in training, so spent four hours after the session awkwardly leaning against a fireplace considering what to next.
I have a plan...
Basti
Monday, October 31, 2016
Dear Diary,
My plan worked brilliantly! With winter well on the way in Manchester, I turned up for training with a hat pulled down over my face and sneaked out on to the training field!
I had a close call with Rui Faria on the way out, who demanded to know who I was. "It is I, Phil Jones!" I told him, doing my best Phil Jones face to conceal my true identity.
"Welcome back Phil," Rui beamed. "Good to finally meet you."
With the boss on the phone to Mino Raiola, the training session went well, although it seems Wayne Rooney now thinks that I am genuinely Phil Jones. I enjoyed it so much that I've decided to spend the night in one of the newly-refurbished sleeping pods at the training centre.
I'll let you know how it goes tomorrow,
Basti.
Tuesday, November 1, 2016
Dear Diary,
What a terrible night!
Having slipped in to some of the Fred the Red pyjamas that had been laid out on the bed of my sleeping pod, I tucked myself in, instantly feeling the supreme comfort of the new mattress and pillow.
Just as I was drifting off to sleep, I heard a faint mumbling sound coming from outside of the pod. The noise continued for a good few hours and, being Halloween, I'm not ashamed to say I was a little scared.
At around 4am, I plucked up the courage to go and investigate. The AON Training Complex is an intimidating place after dark, with the eyes in each one of the newly-installed Jose Mourinho portraits seeming to follow your every move.
I followed the muffled noises to that same store cupboard I had been "accidentally" locked in all those weeks ago. I opened the door, and scrambled for the light switch, eventually flicking it on.
Behind a pile of old boxes containing framed pictures of Sir Alex Ferguson and Sir Matt Busby that had been taken down to make way for the Jose Mourinho portraits, I saw him...
Colm O'Rourke and Pauric Mahony join Colm Parkinson on a packed GAA Hour that includes Dick Clerkin appreciation and Sean Cavanagh envy. Subscribe here on iTunes.
