A story was widely picked up in the media last week that Sunderland striker Jermain Defoe was advertising for a personal assistant for a wage of £60,000 a year. The assistant, naturally, was expected to do everything as and when instructed, including watering the plants and stocking the fridge. Here is a spoof account of how my first week went after getting the job.
SATURDAY
My new boss, Mr Defoe, is in a jubilant mood. His 62nd minute equalizer at Swansea earns Sunderland their first point of the season. The first call I take on his behalf is from a straight talking American who asks if Mr Defoe will be ‘willing to come to film for nine months in LA for a clear hundred thousand’. After much head-scratching we manage to figure out that this caller thinks he is talking to the assistant of movie actor Willem Defoe, star of seminal 80s classics such as Platoon and Born On The Fourth Of July. In a further twist, it seems Willem has been contacted by someone thinking he is Jermain, and asked if he can play against Exeter in the week; to which, I understand, the 60-year-old actor strangely agrees to.
SUNDAY
After the stress of a match day, Jermain is allowed a day off. Not so for me — although he is a great guy and generous to a fault, I do spend an hour or so polishing a huge framed photo of him in a Tottenham shirt — on the day he scored five goals against Wigan in the 2009-10 season. A further insight is that anyone who passes this glorious monument must salute every time they pass it or face a fine.
MONDAY
Early morning training session with Dick Advocaat. However, as the terms of my employment clearly state that I must be expected to carry out the instructions of my boss, imagine my surprise when Mr Defoe asks me to take his place at training. Duly kitted out and trying my best to hide my beer gut, Dick puts us through our paces. I last about ten minutes before my face turns a distinct shade of dark purple.
TUESDAY
Another match day — or night this time. Sunderland beat plucky Exeter 6-3 in the League Cup, and Jermain scores a magnificent hat-trick and keeps the match ball. I put it on the back seat of the car on the way home. But I have to brake suddenly to avoid Dick Advocaat who is trying to stop us saying that due to a rising wage bill the club need to cut costs and that ‘he needs the ball back for training tomorrow’. The sharp swerve of the car sees the ball career off the back seat and hit Jermain in the back of the head. He is good in the air though.
WEDNESDAY
A warm down after the previous nights exertions. I am amazed when I receive a call from Mr Advocaat who says that following my stand-in training session on Monday, Sunderland would like to offer me a four year deal and will sign me as a left-back. I politely decline, saying that I must go and stock Mr Defoe’s fridge.
THURSDAY
I spend the morning watering Mr Defoe’s plants. It’s a tricky task, as I am unsure if the correct moisture, humidity and temperature are in place. In the event, I abandon the idea, and my boss and I spend the day playing Monopoly using real money and also take a call from a ‘reliable source’ who says that behind a photo on the wall of Jose Mourinho’s office is a secret tunnel that he has been digging all summer to try to get to Everton’s training ground so that he can smuggle John Stones out without anyone noticing.
FRIDAY
A well-publicised bank error means that thousands of customers in Britain have not had wages paid into their bank accounts, including my boss. I ring the bank in fury and ask them how they can expect a Premier League footballer to survive over a weekend if he has not had his wages. I offer to lend him ‘fifty quid to tide him over’ and he is most grateful. However, our association is terminated by mutual consent as Sunderland’s pursuit of me mean that I too will need an assistant. No hard feelings, we part on very good terms.
