The Interior Life of Paul Scholes

now i keep visioning Scholes life as some kind of Heavy Rain sequence

Fuck i forgot Bertie Ahern

superinjunction though. There was an idea.

....

'No, Mr Scholes, I'm sorry, we can't get them to do that' said the barrister. 'If there's something specific that you don't want in the press, we can discuss it further, however'.

What does he mean, 'something specific'?

Oh well, worth a try. Will i have another cup? I think I might.

Paul emerged from training, kitbag in hand, as he had done every day for what seemed like eternity. Though not to Paul. For him each day was only about a day's length in time. "About a day," he thought. "Dayish."

As he reached his car he heard a familar voice: "Scholesy!" It were Gary Neville.

"Hi Gary," he said. Gary used to play at right back. Retired this season.

"Fancy doing something this afternoon mate," Gary said. He had a beard sometimes.

"Sure, yeah, what did you have in mind?"

"Maybe a cup of tea, then we can collect the kids," Gary said.

Paul froze. It were wrong.

"Going to collect the kids now," he said.

"I thought we could watch some telly first, there's time," Gary said.

Paul didn't like this kind of talk. It was dangerous.

"Collect the kids first probably," he said, smiling weakly.

"Then tea. Then telly," he smiled.

"It's after training see," he told Gary.

"Are you okay Scholesy...you're shaking, you look pale," Gary said.

"It's okay to change your routine just this once mate," Gary laughed.

Paul stared at him. Everything could be destroyed. He could feel that familiar face appearing.

There was a long silence.

"Hard to believe isn't it mate, all the players that have come and gone and you're still at it," Gary said.

"Cantona, Keane, Becks..."

"And the young lads who never made it..Cleggsy, Pat McGibbon, Kevin Pilkington....

"John O'Kane..."

Paul shivered.

"What did you say Nev?"

"John O'Kane...remember, Kanesy!"

It was after training. Paul got into his car and went to collect the kids. He got home and made a cup of tea, turning on the television set.

If he never heard the name John O'Kane again he would be happy. But alone in the living room it was all he could hear, John O'Kane. John O'Kane. John O'Kane. John O'Kane.

Paul jolted awake, cold sweat running down his brow. That was horrible. Happened a few times, since he'd read Bravo Two Zero. Grown men, hiding like rats. Paul had never had to hide in his life, except from Roy Keane that one time. Should have read something else. Wife had a book somewhere, about the Scissor Sisters. Paul went downstairs, made a cup of tea, just to calm down. He wished they'd bring back London's Burning.

"Robson and Jerome," he thought.

It was getting late. Time to pick up the kids. He drove around Manchester till 4am.

This was presumably inspired by Daniel taylor's terrible guardian piece today about how real football fans love real footballer Paul scholes cuz he's not like those other players they have now with the cars and the hats no he's not like that

otm

Ha I just saw the other thread

"The ball was there (I think)," he thought.
He was no Roy Keane. He'd never go in to hurt another player.
"Take that you cunt!"
Those Scouse bastards Hansen and Lawro had it right. Great pro. Honest attempt to get the ball. Slightly mistimed. England's greatest passer.
He'd waited long enough. He fuckin' hit him hard!
Yellow Card. Ref just doesn't fucking get it.
"Do I collect the kids on a match day?"

yeah was considering a raging hulk interior scholes for during a game tbh

Scholes is very much from the "the rest is bullshit" school. He doesn't do interviews. He doesn't walk red carpets. He doesn't have a flashy car with smoked-out windows. You won't see his autobiography in the megastore or a six-page spread in Hello! Scholes is a reminder of what footballers used to be like and what many of us wish they could be again.

A reluctant hero, however, is still a hero. Ask Wayne Rooney, who is accumulating all this season's individual trophies, to name his favourite player and without hesitation he will say Scholes. Sir Alex Ferguson regards the midfielder as "one of the best football brains Manchester United have ever had". Edgar Davids: "We can all learn from Paul Scholes." Marcello Lippi: "Scholes would have been one of my first choices for putting together a great team." Zinedine Zidane: "My toughest opponent? Scholes." All this when Scholes, bless him, still has trouble differentiating between a fair tackle and a pub-side hack.

That was...Daniel Taylor from April last year

You won't see his autobiography in the megastore
You won't see his autobiography in the megastore
You won't see his autobiography in the megastore

Not until this year anyway

4 weeks ago...daniel taylor

The list of those who have since described Scholes as the best footballer in England includes, among others, Zinedine Zidane, Thierry Henry, Marcello Lippi and Edgar Davids.

"Sorry I'm late", said Paul, sitting down at the table. "Had to drop the kids off at the pool". John O'Shea starting laughing. Rio was laughing. Wayne was actually crying. Michael Owen wasn't laughing. Rio must have morked him before Paul got there. "Looking forward to training today", said Paul, as Wayne fell off his chair.

lol

morked him?
http://lifestagesdesign.com/images/mork.jpg

You won't see his autobiography in the megastore or a six-page spread in Hello! Scholes

That surely can't be the right way to punctuate there.

nn i'm hopeful/sure that matt knows a merk from a mork, and that interior scholesy doesn't

^^^ Exactly.

Shazbot

Daniel Taylor has ghostwritten the book, surely?

Wayne seemed quite excited this morning. He's got a new mobile phone which he was showing everyone. He was telling me he's on twitter and has half a million followers and can tweet anytime from it. When I asked him if you could send text messages on it he looked at me funny and muttered something about me having a brick. I think he was having a bit of a go, but I don't mind, I only use it for phoning Claire and my mam.

Paul let the kids in then brought the shopping into the kitchen. 'I always like a Friday,' he thought. 'Digestives, Tetley,' he rummaged in the bag. "Radio Times."

He made himself a nice cup of tea, took it into the living room and sat down on the settee with the Radio Times. There was a big Alan Titchmarsh feature but he turned down the corner and turned the page. That would have to wait.

Paul flicked through the week's listings 'til he found what he was looking for - new series of Celebrity Masterchef. Alright! He ran his finger down the names to see who they'd picked. Linda Lusardi, she were nice. Better hope the missus doesn't find out, he chuckled. Matt Dawson, Keith Harris. He scanned a bit faster. Sonia, Duncan Bannatyne. The first drops of rain were hitting the window. Lionel Blair, Angela Rippon. Someone called Tony di Bart. Weekdays, 5pm.

He sighed and closed the magazine. 'Gaffer probably wouldn't give me the time off anyway.' Still, it would've been nice if they'd asked. He never got asked.

would have quite liked to see scholesy on celeb masterchef

lol@Toni di Bart

He cook with a ruthless efficiency and a wee bit more creative flair than you'd imagine. And he'd accidentally & clumsily scald his closest competitors with hot oil.

Isn't Tony di Bart dead?

I'm thinking of Tony de Vit.

"Isn't Tony di Bart dead?" he thought as he filled the kettle. "That were a boss tune though..."

"Not sure why he liked hanging around with all those fellers."

"tributes paid to Tony di Bart" was the headline on BBC News as Paul turned on the telly. He sips his tea, it was not a shock to him. Tony and Paul used to go pick up the kids together after Paul's training, but then Tony started doing remixes of the real thing and getting the kids to take the bus. "The moment he swayed from his routine", Paul sighed, "he was dead."

thread of the week imo

Paul was on the ground. Everything had gone white, but slowly his sight was returning. He pushed himself weakly to his feet, his hands and knees bleeding. His body bleeding all over. There was no sound except for a dull, unbroken ring. The buildings around him were debris. Minutes passed before he realized where he was, what these buildings had been. He hadn’t been here, though, when it happened. Despite his confusion this much was clear to him. How had he got here? He looked out over the brick remains of violently sundered homes. There, three streets away, was the terrace where he lived, now ragged heaps of stone and twisted metal and broken people. People were lying everywhere, all of them red and torn; few of them moving. He stared at his own wounds vacantly, oblivious to any pain. Some of the less injured people were trying to find others, or help others. There was movement beside him and he turned slowly. A man – not someone he recognized. Haunted eyes implored Paul, weeping blood and tears. He was holding something. His mouth worked, saying soundless words over and over. He pushed the thing towards Paul, showing him. A baby, but not like a baby. Limp, and still, and dirty. Paul looked at the baby and looked at the man, fighting to comprehend. Gently he took the soft, cold thing from the man’s supplicant hands. Reaching into the back pocket of his jeans he pulled out a biro, and wrote SCHOLESY in large round letters across the parchment white stomach.

dark...i laughed. the man was daniel taylor obv.

john o'kane surely

the man is siralex and the baby is utd's midfield.

this might be a stretch but feel like could have a quality thread where ppl do these interior life thingys for different players and others have to guess who they are.

Paul Scholes said: "I am not a man of many words but I can honestly say that playing football is all I have ever wanted to do and to have had such a long and successful career at Manchester United has been a real honour. This was not a decision that I have taken lightly but I feel now is the right time for me to stop playing. To have been part of the team that helped the Club reach that 19th title is a great privilege. I can now vary my routine by coaching in the morning instead of training, but I'll still pick up the kids from school, play with them, have tea, get them to bed and then watch a bit of TV."

You don't know how much i wanted that last sentence to be true.

awww rip little man

Tributes today will have been paid to the late united legend Scholes as the ceremonial bloodletting continues apace outside the Old Trafford megastore, and not just by the store managers who finally can offload the surplus stock of limited edition Scholesy Shivs. Many will have opined that Scholesy himself would have 'bled red', and indeed that is the colour of the pavements today. Scholes slipped into a coma a mere fourteen minutes after his retirement was announced, and as he drained his last mug of lucozade, his aphasic mutterings ceased and a steady rivulet of drool attested to the loss of all cognitive functions.

Followers of the diminuitive asthamtic will long have heard him describe himself as a man of few words and no interests outside of football, so it will come as no surprise that a man whose passing was out of this world has now passed out of this world after his sporting gifts have left him.

Venerable United boss Sir Alex Ferguson will have been seen in hospitals throughout Manchester, seizing ginger babies that they may yet fulfill the prophecy of "The Second Scholes". Yet even if the unlikely prediction, having been gleaned from a numerical translation of a Ronnie Wallwork tweet, comes to great fruition, Ferguson has known one of the great players of his generation will be nigh on close to impossible to replace at this level.

This thread is incredible

he was an incredible man ;_;

Scholes was not just an example on the field, he has been exemplary off it. No lurid headlines; indeed, no headlines at all unless they were football-related; a family man whose main priority, once his day's work was done at United's Carrington training centre, was the school run.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/philmcnulty/2011/05/the_cause_was_a_losing.html

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ggiXAQqnYds

Sleep well, Ginger Prince.

Awww look his little leg's twitching, he's maiming opposition centre forwards in his sleep.

nult is reading ilx, that's now generally accepted, right?

I like to think back to the good old days when we thought Scholesy was going blind.

Normally he'd phone Giggsy in these situations but... hadn't he read something about Giggsy in the papers a couple of years ago? He'd stolen his brother's car, maybe he's stolen Paul's as well? Better be safe, get Michael Clegg round in the van.

grey Chevrolet estate

Such a neat player, all these little interceptions cutting out parody at source.

A police spokesman said "inquiries to locate the car are ongoing".

SCHOLES: When will you find these guys? I mean, do you have any promising leads?

POLICEMAN: Leads, yeah. I'll just check with the boys down at the Crime Lab. They've assigned four more detectives to the case, got us working in shifts.

The interior life of an ice bandit. Grim times. The waiting, the watching. The cold. Maybe they'd come back, thought Paul, see if he'd got a different car. They should know better. They'd see the house and think everyone was out. They wouldn't see him crouched in the bushes. They might come up the driveway, take a look. Then he'd know. Then he could move on.

They'd played that team once, hadn't they, Rotor Volgograd. It was cold that night alright. A bit like this. Watching, waiting. He'd never forget that name, Volgograd. Nobody would, it was part of history wasn't it? The night Schmeichel scored.

"What if the kids had decided to pick themselves up," he thought, his blood running cold.

Exterior life rip

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sport/football/article-2366573/Rio-Ferdinand-handed-baby-book-signing-session.html

couldnt help but recall the classic bobby spirals post itt

The book, which also features video segments of Ferdinand's celebrity friends, is sure to be a real treat

After the book and watch were handed over and a round of applause spread round the room I noticed a particular look on some of the players’ faces. It was a moment some weren’t sure how to handle because they had always had me with them; some for 20 years. I could see a vacant expression that seemed to say: what’s it going to be like now? Some had known no other manager but me.

http://i.imgur.com/KOHNu8w.jpg

Amazing

http://i.imgur.com/kG8hijN.jpg

gnev wtf not from the side lad never from the side again

The documentary covers 1992-1999, culminating in Manchester United’s European Cup triumph, and interweaves the narrative with the social and cultural changes taking place in Britain at the time.

The production secured access to all six players and also includes interviews with Zinedine Zidane, Tony Blair, Mani from the Stone Roses, Eric Cantona and Danny Boyle.

ffs kill me

I'm irrationally angry at the names not being in the same order as the photo.

Now I'm trying to work out how they ordered the names. I've ruled out fame, age, appearances, trophies and talent. Maybe ascending order of Fergiebook approval?

the alphabet

so simple now you say it

it's so unmovieposterlike to use alphabetical listings but I think it's probably a good thing

convenient that Beckham's name comes first though eh?

pretty sure none of those guys would care, but the apostrophe's the wrong way round

movie posters sometimes go alphabetical in starry ensemble casts with lots of ego to negotiate but in this case i

Outswinging apostrophe

The director Gabe Turner, one of the two brothers who made The Class of 92, has a revealing story about Paul Scholes's debut in the movie business. The feature-length documentary is about the great Manchester United generation of Scholes, Ryan Giggs, David Beckham, Nicky Butt and the Neville brothers, Gary and Phil, and is released next month.

When Gabe and his brother Ben sat down to interview Scholes, recently retired for the second time and third on the club's all-time appearances list, the man himself had one major question.

Gabe takes up the story: "Paul said, 'Is this a movie then?' And we said, 'Yes'. 'Not television?' Paul said. 'No, Paul'. You could see him thinking. He said, 'Does that mean there'll be a premiere?' We were like, 'Yes, probably there'll be a premiere'. He said: 'Would I have to come to that?' We said: 'I'm sure we would want you to come to that. Would you like to?' 'No,' he said. 'Not massively'."

Paul said. 'No, Paul'.

said Paul 'Paul, no?'

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CiT-4V3IZFQ

'It will be difficult to look past the likes of Kroos and Ronaldo for Real, and I think Fabregas has become a key man for Chelsea, Pirlo for Juventus and Robben for Bayern.'

Paul Scholes was singing and dancing to the sounds of Rick Astley in the Salford City dressing room after they dumped Notts County out of the FA Cup on a historic and euphoric night at Moor Lane.

until the stark horror of the lyrics revealed itself in his mind. never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and desert you

the kids. training.

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/football/2017/05/05/ryan-giggs-prepared-psychologically-life-manchester-united/

Spending time with my children these past 10 months has been a great pleasure, but they have their own school lives and the hours between drop-off and pick-up have to be filled too.

The one thing I felt was unique to a footballer’s stress was that every day when I left my house I never knew what I would encounter.

There might be 30 autograph requests over the course of the day, or 30 selfies. There might be none. There might just be nice things said. Or there might be aggro, and a harsh comment.

It was the uncertainty about what the day held that got to me.

i'm not a qualified psychologist but

Lol! Never mind interior world, one could detect more sentience + intelligence in a mollusc ffs! if I was his shrink I'd just give him a big dose of LSD!

He does seem to be grasping for that type of thing where dithering inarticulate alpha-male millionaires "open up" a la Beckham on his struggles with OCD etc. I also like childish/imbecilic concept of "stressful" grown-up jobs are all white-collar of course.

It was the uncertainty about what the day held that got to me.

people i met had different faces and said different things. it was as if while i went about my day, with my thoughts, they too had days of their own, thoughts of their own, which i knew was impossible yet still the nagging sense persisted that these others were more than met the eye.