Saturday: Played about 70 mins then got a rest. Good bench at Shrews, plenty of support for my back. Wide too. Much better than at Wednesday. Or Wolves, Preston and Southend. Or Kettering, QPR or Argyle. But I don’t know why the gaffer is blaming me for the defeat. He took me off when it was 1-1. Don’t care, he’s not my real dad

Sunday: Enough is enough. Who the f@#k does that gobby Italian think he is!? Doesn’t he realise we had a match yesterday and now I’m up before Hollyoaks for more training.Doesn’t he know the rules: if it’s before noon, it’s too soon. I’ve told my agent I want out before the window closes. Harry will be after a new striker soon so fingers crossed.

Monday: Was really looking forward to relaxing and a trip to the Oasis to ride the Domebusters. Guess what? I can’t go because we’ve got yet more training, yes training the day before a match! Only went because Paolo said something about cones. Turns out they weren’t icecream after all. Harry had better make his mind up quickly otherwise I’ll get my agent to phone Mourinho. Or Pep. I’d fit in in Spain. Their games don’t start till about midnight so they must get up later… And then you get the siesta.

Tuesday: After the final whistle blew Claudio wants to send me running tomorrow! I told him had the ref added 3 and not 5 minutes of injury time I’d probably would’ve been fine. The gaffer is talking all foreign again, he just doesn’t understand me. Think I’ve found a friend in the Chairman and convinced him to sack Di Canio. Tried reading his autobiography. It’s like 200 pages. Tried his Wikipedia page instead. Didn’t know he used to be a footballer. Tired now.

Wednesday: With Paolo taking the flack I’ve got exactly what I’ve been dreaming of for a week and a half. My first day off in twelve days so the armbands are on and ready for the Oasis. Woah! Now I’ve seen the Domebusters, I think I’ll just stick with the elephant slide instead.

Thursday: Nobody at the club will talk to me, so I’ve done the next best thing to keep in touch with the lads and got myself a job at Nando’s in Cheltenham. Couldn’t believe my luck when Alan, Flinty and Al Mack turn up. Luckily they’re one of my covers. Before I get the chance to ask how they were Flinty’ chips in “the usual for us…three whole chickens and heavy on the PERi-PERi”. Didn’t even say hello or give me an F’ing tip!

Friday: What!? Now Nando’s have told me to pack my bags! Well, somebody had to tell them it’s against my human rights to force me to be on my feet for periods of more than 45 minutes. They can sod their job! They didn’t even have a physio on hand to fetch and apply one of those blue plasters for me.

Diary writing going really well. A whole week! This time I’m really going to stick at it while I find myself a new club. Promise.

* according to Ron & Alex