The Secret Diary of Nathan Jones aged 49 1/2.

The Secret Diary of Nathan Jones, aged 49 1/2.

Friday:

Had a game for the B team and decided to pick, with the greatest of respect, all the players I don’t fucking like. Doug Croatia-Car bastard and his mate Massive Ostrich can get in the bin. Centre back who thinks he’s a footballer and won’t smash the ball 70 yards up the pitch every time he gets it. Not impressed. As for his mate on the wing…. I don’t play with wingers, don’t want wingers, why the fuck did we sign him? Saddled with that bastard, not impressed.

Put Moussa in as well.  He ran round in circles all game – he might still be concussed after Nick Pope smashed him but it’s hard to tell.  Wingers ffs… don’t like them.

We won the game, played a little bit too much football for my liking. Extra bright halogen floodlights are there for a reason lads. Horseman seems popular with the lads. Must get rid of him ASAP.

Saturday:

Brentford away, shitty little ground, reminds me of Kenilworth Road. Good omen. Picked a team with Janny B at the heart of it - radical. Work permit is coming for Tall Paul which is going to be handy. Will use him as an impact sub in the second half to win the game for us and make me look a genius. Work permit also through for the other fucking winger that I didn’t want. 22 million fucking quid and he can’t even play as a wing back. What’s the point of that? Will play Moi on the wing because he covers space well when we haven’t got the ball. His leg is hanging off but never mind.

They lost 3-0 lol.  They were shit but Brentford were decent.  All those crosses – lovely.  We had that at Luton.  Talking of which,  James Bree, who I got in from Luton, had a great game at right back apart from all three goals and the two big chances that Ivan Toney missed coming down his side. Statistically he was ok though and statistically he was the best right back in the championship last year and that’s the sixth best league in the world. Janny B was marking space everywhere. Brilliant reading of the game. Lyanco put a hole in the dressing room wall with his head when we got back in. Don’t think he was very happy with being a substitute.

Told some home truths at the presser. Sport Republic have saddled me with all these fucking wingers and that Argentinian lad who wants to pass it on the ground. Ralph compromised my vision with a shit squad who want to press and pass the ball.  I don't see myself in this team.  The fans are all fucking wankers who don’t recognise potential greatness when they see it and these Premier League players, well they don’t want to implement my total football plan. With the greatest of respect, I’ve listened to outside forces too much or maybe I haven't and I’ve compromised too much… I know that compromise got me the win Everton and the win against City in the cup but that compromise didn’t work today so we need to go back to the plan we had against Forest - 5 at the back and fucking send it!  I know we lost but there was nothing wrong with the way we played, it was ace and it clearly wasn’t my fault that day as Lyanco trod on the ball.

What the fuck, I mean statistically, I was one of the best in Europe last season on all the metrics that matter like xAggression, which I'm sure I saw on a fancy chart in The Athletic one day. I’ve had to work hard for everything I’ve fucking got because I was brought up in a Welsh mining village.

Sunday:

Woke up, worked out my win ratio again, if I miss out the Liverpool game and include the cup games against lower league sides and Palace and the B team game but not the Newcastle semi-finals because that was two legs, then it’s 6 out of 11 and according to my maths, that’s a 75% win ratio. That’s not bad is it?  Better than Ralph and better than Mark Hughes my lord.

Some people who know nothing like Ian Wright and Chris Sutton think I should’ve been sacked for slagging off the board, the players and the fans but don’t they realise that statistically I am one of the best in Europe and I’ll tell them that even though they won’t ask. In other news, Rasmus doesn’t want me going to the fans forum on Tuesday night. Can’t believe it, I should be front and centre so that the hundred chosen ones can witness my greatness first hand.

Adam Blackmore had a pop on Twitter. Can’t believe it, bloody Ralph apologist. Don’t care because he’s local news and I’m kind of a big deal now.  Talking of local, has that Doswell & Waterlooville 'levels' bloke spoken up again?  I didn't listen last time and if I search twitter for it and find it, I won't listen this time either.

Monday:

Woke up to the news that Simon Jordan had a pop on talkSPORT. Don’t care about the bleach blonde Dragons’ Den wannabe but Neil Warnock then had a go and that one hurt a bit I have to say. Neil is a bit of a role model. Hard as fuck, boot it in the floodlights and he’s from up north and they had mines there as well.

Took training. Tried to speak to that big Doug Croatia-Car bastard and he ignored me. Asked Massive Ostrich what book he was reading in his Instagram post and recommended that he read a book on Mining in South Wales. Offered to lend him a Tom Jones CD and a Max Boyce LP And he pretended he didn’t speak English.

5 a side was a bit feisty. All the players kept asking me to go on the opposition team to them. I think they just wanted a challenge because they know about my playing career. Statistically it was very good. Didn’t want to show them up so I didn’t join in.

Tuesday:

Fans forum day. Rasmus wouldn’t let me in so I tied up one of the Halo catering staff and stole his uniform so I could watch. Semmens said I wasn’t there because it was all arranged a long time in advance, but I know the real reason is because he’s frightened I’ll kick off because I’m that hard. Statistically I am xHard. Some twat off of Twitter recognise me so I asked him to step outside and with the greatest of respect, I fucking battered him. Someone told me after was that he was only 14. Bullshit. He was massive so it’s not my fault.

Fan questions were all about me.  They all know.  Rasmus got embarrassed in the end and clearly wanted to move on and talk about the Women’s Team and the catering.  It’s not fair that it was all about me, even though, with the greatest of respect, I’m the best thing here, statistically.

Wednesday:

Some twat blogger stole my diary.  No worries, no one will read it.