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Why my hero Ryan should’ve given the law a body swerve

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Ryan Giggs

Ryan Giggs

Ryan Giggs has been named as the player at the centre of a gagging order over a relationship with Imogen Thomas

Ryan Giggs has been named as the player at the centre of a gagging order over a relationship with Imogen Thomas

Ryan Giggs has been named as the player at the centre of a gagging order over a relationship with Imogen Thomas

Ryan Giggs has been named as the player at the centre of a gagging order over a relationship with Imogen Thomas

The married footballer is alleged to have had a 'sexual relationship' with Big Brother's Imogen Thomas

The married footballer is alleged to have had a 'sexual relationship' with Big Brother's Imogen Thomas

Imogen Thomas

Imogen Thomas

Imogen Thomas

Imogen Thomas

Imogen Thomas

Imogen Thomas

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Ryan Giggs

What is it with all my heroes? Feet and hosiery of clay, the lot of them. Thus Ryan Giggs. Worshipped the man. Even have a DVD of him presenting a practical workshop on footer skills.

There he is, nutmegging other chaps, heading the ball hither and — with a good wind behind him — yon, dribbling down the wing without tripping over. Extraordinary.

Now he’s gone and tripped himself up, and is dribbling into his bib after his failed super-injunction in regards to nutmegging a lady who was not his better half — or even his centre half.

It’s ridiculous. Of all the people in all the world to have his photo on every front page, to be the unwitting opener of a legal can of worms and a hollering debate about the rights of rich celebrities to have a private life: Ryan Giggs the model professional. I can’t get over it.

Certainly, Sir Alex Ferguson, the vulgar but morally upright Scotsman who has championed him as a model professional, is sitting with egg on his face. But that’s quite normal for him at this time of day.

Before Ryan became a household name even to the legal fraternity, the papers said you could find out his identity on yonder internet. But I got to page six of Google listings, having clicked umpteen possibilities, before giving up.

All you got was that you could find his identity “with just a few clicks”, but not telling you who it was themselves.

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It was only when some smelly looking Liberal Democrat stood up and uttered the forbidden name in the ancient, venerable and faintly ludicrous House of Commons that I came to know that it was Ryan.

Which brings me, funnily enough to another hero of mine before Ryan turned out similarly to be whipping in crosses with boots of hardened sediment.

When I played five-a-sides, I used to model my performances on him — trying to kick the ball and so forth — and went about my business in a quiet, almost unnoticed manner.

Then this chap left my club and signed for some horrid rivals. Now he’s hated by his old club’s fans, turns out to be a ned, and has the savvy of a sickly infant. Even his hair turned out to be dyed and he wasn’t handsome at all. So disappointing.

Maybe if I looked further afield than footy for heroes, I’d make better choices. What about that chap who heads the IMF? Is he any good? Oh, he’s been charged with sexual assault? Fair enough. Charlie Sheen? You know, the actor? No?

But still, I feel sorry for Giggsy. I’ve never met the man, and can’t think he has sophisticated views like mine on Scottish independence (freedom!) or the afterlife. But he shouldn’t be at the centre of a mega-controversy like this.

Money’s at the heart of it. If he’d never had a massive wage and been a celebrity, he’d never have met yon bird who was not his centre half, but could just have had a steady trade and only dreamed of other women, as normal men do.

It was money, too, that enabled him to take out the super-injunction that has screwed up his life and sullied his reputation.

Once famous for footer, in future he’ll just be a footnote in legal history.


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