19 May 2020 | gilleliath
what a bunch of herberts
Somebody must think Razor Ruddock is good telly but, to the untrained eye, he appears a fat, unhealthy, unfunny lout (not to mention a dirty cropping get). If the show was real he wouldn't have been asked in the first place - he only played for England once - and, even if asked, he'd have been sent home as soon as it was obvious he couldn't play.
He's the worst of a Liverpool / Arsenal mafia of overmouthed, undertalented England marginals appearing on the show. Such is the atmosphere that Paul Merson feels he has to apologise for acting like a normal person (although to be fair his post-alcoholic maundering gets annoying too). John Barnes, looking like Mr Toad, doesn't even pretend he'll play this time - yet somehow he's still there, shouting 'Play well team!' from behind Harry Redknapp. When you see them matched up against an amateur team of French nudists - against whom they drew - you know it can't get much lower.
The latest example of an officially unacknowledged genre which mixes celebrity 'reality' (this case, Jolly Boys' Outing) with destination marketing, it's certainly ridiculous but not really entertaining. The combination of elements doesn't work: when they're playing they really want to win, but they won't properly get into training; the intended light-heartedness of the 'redeem ourselves in Europe' theme is undermined by their often serious real-life issues. They're a bunch of middle-aged lost little boys, still refusing to grow up. Besides, they weren't that entertaining even at their peaks.