Stuff thats pisses you off in the Prem.

[Tee]

Last minute/injury time Man Utd goals.

Fabregas' about to puke/cry celebration.

John Carew.

Carra running forward with the ball, stopping, turning round in a robotic manner and passing the ball back.

[fah-q]

Any chant made popular by Soccer AM

[Dantheman]

Harry Redknapp, can't stand him. I can't understand a word he says either, it all comes out like 'yip, yip, yip, yip, yip' while he nods his head like a fcuking pigeon.

But I also hate the way the press love him and that other cnut Fat Sam. Just because they have a beer with you and let you in on a few stories doesn't make them good managers lads.

[Jennings]

I'll go first.

Tony Pulis' baseball cap.

Its not even sunny you cunt, **** off.

Rory Delap using a towel

Just throw the thing in you big eared cunt

'Filthy' Phil Brown's poofy leather jacket.

He looks like a pervert.

Felaini's hair.

WTF seriously WTF!!

More will be added

Great post.

[Liverpool]

I didn't like Paul Ince's weird eyes but he's gone now. So that's ok.

I liked watching him on match of the day, the way he looked like he was about to cry all the time.

[zimbo]

A few pet hates to be going on with. An excuse to vent spleen if nothing else.

Soccer AM - tired blokey nonsense, populated by witless dullards and Z-list posho indie bands anxious to enhance their already failing credibility by attempting to appropriate working class culture. The clue’s in the name. It’s ‘football’ you massive splags.

Tim Lovejoy - desperate to be seen as the Pope of terrace culture, in reality he’s more like the kiddie-fiddling local priest who is able to maintain whatever f*cked -up influence he may have due to the complicit silence of a confederacy of clueless idiots. The epitome of Soccer AM’s achingly smug, patronising, geezercentric, ultimately vacuous world-view.

“Your support is f*cking sh*t” - a song which is the essence of high-art to your average Chelsea fan, and has spread like a particularly virulent dose of genital warts to every knuckle-scraping away end in the land. Tit-for tat childishness of the worst kind. It was one of the unhappiest days of my footballing life when I heard our own supporters spewing this bilge out against Newcastle recently. Just stop it. Now.

Steve Bennett - even Styles, for all his slapstick incompetence, has that ‘bumbling vulnerability’ thing going on, which makes it difficult to feel pure hatred for him. Bennett, on the other hand, is a soulless, unblinking killing machine jobsworth, with neither the wit nor the wisdom to be entrusted with control of a Hob Nob, never mind a top level football match. If he wasn’t bullied at school then I’m an Eskimo.

‘DJ’ Spoony - yes, I know he claims to be a Red. So did Michael Howard. Didn’t stop him being an invidious ****weasel. Unfortunately, for someone required to channel discussion and argue coherently on issues football-related he has yet to develop the most basic communication skills, preferring instead to offer little but tired clichés, brainless platitudes and endless casual references to his celebrity chums - Ashley, Incey, Rio, JT. And Marcus Bent. I’ve seen episodes of Bagpuss that have provided more of an intellectual stimulus. He’s like a cross between a simpleton and a buffoon. Only less so.

St James’s Park - whenever I see an overhead shot of the Geordie Valhalla, all I can think is that an uncoordinated toddler has been given a crate of Vimto and let loose in the Sticklebrick box. It’ll be nice when it’s finished, but till then it’s just a bit, well, rubbishy. Any parallels with the football team it hosts are completely intentional and a bit on the lazy side.

Mike Phelan - another dismal wretch. He carries with him more than a whiff of the deputy headmaster who’s been promoted beyond his ability and desperately wants to be seen as an authority figure, when in reality his only purpose is to pick up empty crisp packets and frown at spiders. As a player he had all the deftness of touch and technical expertise of a snowboarding pig. They must wrap Ferguson in cushions and bubblewrap whenever he leaves his house, just in case.

[Slim]

A few pet hates to be going on with. An excuse to vent spleen if nothing else.

Soccer AM - tired blokey nonsense, populated by witless dullards and Z-list posho indie bands anxious to enhance their already failing credibility by attempting to appropriate working class culture. The clue’s in the name. It’s ‘football’ you massive splags.

Tim Lovejoy - desperate to be seen as the Pope of terrace culture, in reality he’s more like the kiddie-fiddling local priest who is able to maintain whatever f*cked -up influence he may have due to the complicit silence of a confederacy of clueless idiots. The epitome of Soccer AM’s achingly smug, patronising, geezercentric, ultimately vacuous world-view.

“Your support is f*cking sh*t” - a song which is the essence of high-art to your average Chelsea fan, and has spread like a particularly virulent dose of genital warts to every knuckle-scraping away end in the land. Tit-for tat childishness of the worst kind. It was one of the unhappiest days of my footballing life when I heard our own supporters spewing this bilge out against Newcastle recently. Just stop it. Now.

Steve Bennett - even Styles, for all his slapstick incompetence, has that ‘bumbling vulnerability’ thing going on, which makes it difficult to feel pure hatred for him. Bennett, on the other hand, is a soulless, unblinking killing machine jobsworth, with neither the wit nor the wisdom to be entrusted with control of a Hob Nob, never mind a top level football match. If he wasn’t bullied at school then I’m an Eskimo.

‘DJ’ Spoony - yes, I know he claims to be a Red. So did Michael Howard. Didn’t stop him being an invidious ****weasel. Unfortunately, for someone required to channel discussion and argue coherently on issues football-related he has yet to develop the most basic communication skills, preferring instead to offer little but tired clichés, brainless platitudes and endless casual references to his celebrity chums - Ashley, Incey, Rio, JT. And Marcus Bent. I’ve seen episodes of Bagpuss that have provided more of an intellectual stimulus. He’s like a cross between a simpleton and a buffoon. Only less so.

St James’s Park - whenever I see an overhead shot of the Geordie Valhalla, all I can think is that an uncoordinated toddler has been given a crate of Vimto and let loose in the Sticklebrick box. It’ll be nice when it’s finished, but till then it’s just a bit, well, rubbishy. Any parallels with the football team it hosts are completely intentional and a bit on the lazy side.

Mike Phelan - another dismal wretch. He carries with him more than a whiff of the deputy headmaster who’s been promoted beyond his ability and desperately wants to be seen as an authority figure, when in reality his only purpose is to pick up empty crisp packets and frown at spiders. As a player he had all the deftness of touch and technical expertise of a snowboarding pig. They must wrap Ferguson in cushions and bubblewrap whenever he leaves his house, just in case.

[Slim]

Players telling the ref to book other players by wavng an imaginary card - **** off.

Sky's 'Grand Slam Super Sunday' hyped up bollocks.

The yellow ball for use in the winter, because I could never see the white one before - **** off Nike.

The Premier League having an "official chewing gum."

Stupid kick off times.

The amount of money in the game which, (massive generalisation), has ruined it.

Tony Adams' attempts to seem intellectual.

[Reece]

Stupid kick off times.

I hate Monday night games. The weekend is **** when your team isn't playing.

[Scratch]

Disagree mate. TBH I'd heard all about Delap but never sat through a whole Stoke game. It IS a ****ing disgrace and he shouldn't be allowed to do it. What's next? A little Rugby ball stand for the goal kicks. A towel is not part of the field of play. Simlpe as

Apparantly, so long as the towel is available for both teams, the bigwigs don't have a problem with it. Tranmere ball-boys only gave the towel to Challinor, and refused to give it to the opposition, hence they were not allowed to use it.

[magicalbarnes]

Wayne Rooney. Not just Wayne Rooney, but Wayne Rooney the Manc loving cunt. The way he kisses the badge - he kissed a ****ing flag with the Man Utd badge on it today! A scouser kissing the Manc badge, it's just not right. I'll never get my head 'round it.

About a month ago there were about 6 ManU fans in the stand holding a massive banner which read 'Yorkshire Reds'. A proper disgrace.

You can get your head kicked in in most parts of Yorkshire for wearing a ManU shirt. Leeds fans proper hate ManU.

[Slim]

I hate Monday night games. The weekend is **** when your team isn't playing.

Totally agree.

Also I am not thrilled about 5.30pm kick offs on a Saturday.

[Craig_H]

A few pet hates to be going on with. An excuse to vent spleen if nothing else.

Soccer AM - tired blokey nonsense, populated by witless dullards and Z-list posho indie bands anxious to enhance their already failing credibility by attempting to appropriate working class culture. The clue’s in the name. It’s ‘football’ you massive splags.

Tim Lovejoy - desperate to be seen as the Pope of terrace culture, in reality he’s more like the kiddie-fiddling local priest who is able to maintain whatever f*cked -up influence he may have due to the complicit silence of a confederacy of clueless idiots. The epitome of Soccer AM’s achingly smug, patronising, geezercentric, ultimately vacuous world-view.

“Your support is f*cking sh*t” - a song which is the essence of high-art to your average Chelsea fan, and has spread like a particularly virulent dose of genital warts to every knuckle-scraping away end in the land. Tit-for tat childishness of the worst kind. It was one of the unhappiest days of my footballing life when I heard our own supporters spewing this bilge out against Newcastle recently. Just stop it. Now.

Steve Bennett - even Styles, for all his slapstick incompetence, has that ‘bumbling vulnerability’ thing going on, which makes it difficult to feel pure hatred for him. Bennett, on the other hand, is a soulless, unblinking killing machine jobsworth, with neither the wit nor the wisdom to be entrusted with control of a Hob Nob, never mind a top level football match. If he wasn’t bullied at school then I’m an Eskimo.

‘DJ’ Spoony - yes, I know he claims to be a Red. So did Michael Howard. Didn’t stop him being an invidious ****weasel. Unfortunately, for someone required to channel discussion and argue coherently on issues football-related he has yet to develop the most basic communication skills, preferring instead to offer little but tired clichés, brainless platitudes and endless casual references to his celebrity chums - Ashley, Incey, Rio, JT. And Marcus Bent. I’ve seen episodes of Bagpuss that have provided more of an intellectual stimulus. He’s like a cross between a simpleton and a buffoon. Only less so.

St James’s Park - whenever I see an overhead shot of the Geordie Valhalla, all I can think is that an uncoordinated toddler has been given a crate of Vimto and let loose in the Sticklebrick box. It’ll be nice when it’s finished, but till then it’s just a bit, well, rubbishy. Any parallels with the football team it hosts are completely intentional and a bit on the lazy side.

Mike Phelan - another dismal wretch. He carries with him more than a whiff of the deputy headmaster who’s been promoted beyond his ability and desperately wants to be seen as an authority figure, when in reality his only purpose is to pick up empty crisp packets and frown at spiders. As a player he had all the deftness of touch and technical expertise of a snowboarding pig. They must wrap Ferguson in cushions and bubblewrap whenever he leaves his house, just in case.

Brilliant

Superb thread, in fact.

[lucas]

Tim Cahill punching the corner flag after scoring a goal

Phil & Gary Neville - they really are a pair of unlikeable cunts!

[Winstonio]

Arsenal fans singing ' Where is your famous atmosphere' or Liverrpoool 'Hoof' the ball, in their cockney voices.

A player having to come off after receiving any treatment on the pitch.

Not being allowed to take your shirt off to celebrate.