The Frank Lampard Appreciation Society offers another unique, unadulterated glimpse into the voyage of life of one tragic Monseur Lampeur.
DECEMBER 6, 2011
It’s funny how the clothes we wear reflect who we are, and I don’t mean those t-shirts that the mentally handicapped wear and include the person’s name, number, and address. I mean something more meaningful. I’ve worn the blue of Chelsea for several years. It has become a part not just of my repertoire, but of my essence. So it was blue tears that streamed down my cheeks when Mr. Manager Gopher called me into into his office and explained I would not start against Valencia.
Yes, the team won. But that notoriously obnoxious Kalou came on before me. He even stuck out his tongue at me when Manager Gopher called his name before mine. Obviously, as a professional, I did not immediately retaliate but definitely thought about writing him a really nasty note. Still, sitting on the bench and watching the team win without me hurt. A lot. I didn’t cry, but I didn’t not cry. Replays are inconclusive, but a series of mini-tears may or may have not formed and scampered down my face. Hmph.
DECEMBER 12, 2011
Another meeting with Manager Gopher, another dose of bad news – not starting vs. City either. This whole not starting thing has really started to take a toll. I know that, at age 34, walking an hour and a half twice per week is a daunting physical task, but Chelsea has top rate cardios. I feel just as slow at 34 as I did at 24, yet something has changed. My blue kit used to fill me with pride and put a spring in my step, now I feel a great weight. I yearn to wear it, yet also dread to wear it.
The other day, while going through an old trunk full of family stuff, I found the sailor boy costume that my mother used to dress me up in when I was in my late teens. I recalled my childhood, when I would spend countless hours in that sailor boy outfit and even attend special sailor boy galas with my mum. Times were so much simpler then. I didn’t actually sail a boat or anything, but I loved that outfit. I felt like Popeye and mum was my Olive Oil. All I needed was some spinach and anything was possible! Now, I can’t walk half a game without needing an ice bath. Sigh. Maybe Mr. Gopher has a point after all…..
COMMENT ADDED BY FRANK ON DECEMBER 15, 2011
The funny thing about always being right is that you never get sick of not being wrong. Ever. Manager Gopher subbed me in, and whala, within a few minutes, I’d pointed at Sturridge, a good lad, and told him to score a goal or get an assist. He did the next best thing: he won a penalty kick. And guess who converted it? A hint: he looks quite dapper in a custom made sailor suit & cap for a teenage boy. Me!
It’s not all good news, though. Naturally, at my young age and with only two years left on my contract, I thought it prudent to renegotiate an extension at Chelsea just in case some really large club decides to try and buy me in a year’s time based on this single game. I don’t want to play games with Blues fans in 365 days time, and I don’t want to tempt myself either. Just as Ulysses tied himself to a mast before hearing the sirens’ call, I wanted to lock in my time with Chelsea before other big clubs realize my enormous talent and value.
Mr. Vile Boa Constrictor, the master of condescending and dismissive shoo-aways, just smirked and said he’d talk to Roman and the Sporting Director. Yet I haven’t received a text since. I’m really worried some big club scout will have seen my winning PK and make me a huge offer in 56 weeks, but I guess I’m the only prudent one rowing on this ship. Sigh.
DECEMBER 17, 2011
I’m really trying to change and be a better person and player. I had a dream where I cut off all of Mr. Vile Boa Constrictor’s body parts and fed them to my pet snake, Valdemorkandmindy. It was then that I realized I had a problem: a hate problem. I read up on it, talked to a shrink, and am now trying to embrace and respect the manager. Less hate. Less hate-filled dreams. More deep breaths. Some light yoga. And lots of pringles. In that regard, I am embracing Mr. Manager and my new role at Chelsea. I am a chameleon, and alternate between a starter, a super sub, awesome benchwarmer, and fantastic watcher-from-stands-or-tv-in-living-room.
I psychologically prepared myself to sit for 90 minutes, as opposed to walking for 90 minutes, and then life tossed me a curve. Against Wigan, I got the start! I also played a key role in our single goal that gave us the lead! Indirectly, at least. I cleverly and intentionally left the field to get treatment for a mouth injury (WINK WINK). Half the Wigan players stared at me, recognizing that even from a touchline I can cause havoc with the flex of a single forearm. The other players foolishly let their guard down, assuming Chelsea’s impotence in my absence.
Sure enough, Danny took advantage of the half-distracted and half-conceited defense to perfection and scored a goal. I don’t want to take all the credit, but even my absence is a positive for Chelsea. Some days, you walk on waters I swear! Granted, our defense caved and let in a late equalizer, but the important thing is I started. And was influential.
COMMENT ADDED BY FRANK ON DECEMBER 18, 2011
I am ever so upset. Right after the game, we joked around in the locker room and gave Danny a bit of a ribbing. JT called him a “talented black cunt,” and I stepped in and said to JT “JT, you really need to expand your vocab. What will the police say?” He just paused, then smiled, and called Danny “A gifted footballing black cunt. An exceptional black cunt.”
I was about to give JT my two cents when that meany Kalou stepped in. He asked me what I was going to do about it, and I told him I was going to tell JT’s parents about his potty-mouth. Kalou then, to my horror, pulled you out of his Nike gear bag and tossed you to David Luzer. Kalou asked me if my Sailor Boy costume would save me, and I said I didn’t know because it was an outfit, not a costume. Kalou called me a sissy and I tried not to cry and I don’t remember crying but I may have cried a little bit. And a lot afterwards.
At least David Luzer gave me you back and didn’t speak enough English to understand most of what people said, aside from JT and the “black cunt” stuff. I fear I shouldn’t leave you around the locker room anymore. In fact, I am writing in you right now while I sit in the locker room, and Didier is giving me odd looks.
JANUARY 2, 2012
I am ever so exuberant! Call me the Captain of the SS Happiness! Today I started against Wolves, played the full 90, and scored the game-winning goal off an Ashley Cole cross! Obviously, given my recent run of form against top quality opposition like Wolves, I am 100% sure that Mr. Manager will start me for equally important matches in the Champions League and whatnot. It just goes to show you about that old saying – it’s better to have worn a sailor outfit as a teenager and then signed and played for Chelsea, then never to have worn a sailor outfit as a teenager nor played for Chelsea. I of course rang my mum to tell her about the goal and emailed her a link to it on Dailymotion.
JANUARY 14 2012
I have been told of emoticons. They are combined images from my keyboard that form faces on the computer to reflect emotions. This one, , means happy. I make it with : plus – plus ). And I am very happy, err, , today. Why? Well, I started and scored another goal in a super important game vs. Sunderland! I feel sorry for Torres that he can’t direct a simple bicycle kick on frame, but nobody can deny my raccoon-near-trashcan-at-night instincts. The defense even kept a clean sheet, we won, and nobody called anybody a black cunt!
NOTE ADDED BY FRANK ON JANUARY 15, 2012
I forgot to mention the other great news – Kalouey is off in Africa for some games blah blah and nowhere near Chelsea. In fact, I can write in you at the locker room, in the ice bath, and even in the shower if I’m careful enough! I hope those games in Africa last forever and then we don’t re-sign Kalou. I’m so joyous that I could wriggle into my sailor boy outfit and waltz all by myself all night, but that wouldn’t be fair to mum.
JANUARY 21, 2012
So, the last week has been a major buzz. Yes, I can confirm that MLS Champion and Megaclub the LA Galaxy have expressed an interest in me JUST AS I PREDICTED. I tried to warn Chelsea to sign me a month ago, but no, they had none of it. I’ve talked a bit with Becks, and he says the MLS is topflight and regularly pays the coach airfare for 18 hour flights to Southeast Asia for friendlies immediately after the end of the season. Here in Europe, we normally take a break after the end of the season, but not those hardworking Americans! I was ever so impressed.
Still, am I ready to just discard my Chelsea Blue and don my Sailor Boy Outfit while hopping around the glitzy streets of LA? Truth be told, it is tempting. However, from a sporting perspective, I still feel I have much to give. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’ve scored goals in some pretty important games against Sunderland and Wolves. I still feel that Chelsea need me, even if I also feel hurt at times.
Against Norwich City, I once again pulled off my famous “injured to distract other team” tactic, the same one that led to a goal by Danny vs. Wigan. Still, while I distracted Norwich, I also took the wind out of Chelsea’s sails. After I left, we looked rudderless, deflated, defeated. I’ve always believed that only the rats flee the sinking ship – the Sailor Boy stays until all else have reached safety. But I increasingly feel Mr. Manager pushing me into a lifetime and telling me to row.
So, will I hop the pond and don my Sailor Boy outfit on Manhattan Beach? Only time will tell. But my heart still beats Chelsea Blue blood.
Digital Image Impression: the wildly talented Erik Ebeling.
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