Losing Gullit, that's pressure
You want to know what happen? So listen. Then look at the facts. You hear the facts, then you don't even have to ask me question, because you know the answer.
Yesterday I am enjoying Chelsea dinner. Very nice food, very good wine, with good people, people I love. Chelsea people. Then my wife she ring to say men are asking questions about her little dog, Gullit, the Special Dog. I am straight home because this, my friends, is pressure. Not "why you not win Premiership" or "why you spend £300 million and still cannot win Champions League". This is not pressure. Pressure is when your wife is on doorstep in tears because man wants to take away her Gullit. This is pressure.
So I arrive and I try to talk to these people, like I would referee. This is nothing personal. I just say what it is in my heart. I try to cleanse my soul a little bit. So when I say bitch, I am not speaking to policewoman who is there, I am not talking about her, this is just little word I use to comfort Gullit. But when I say this little word, they take me and Gullit away.
And for why? This is what I am saying: has Sir Fergie's Highland terrier been taken away? No. Do they come at night to take Roy Keane's labrador? No. Only the Special Dog is the one inside. Sir's dog, he is outside cocking his leg against lamp-post while Special Dog is eating porridge. Hey, don't get me wrong, Sir's dog is a wonderful dog, very clever, very good, upright old Scottish dog who we must all respect. The Special Dog and him, they share a bowl of food whenever they meet. And it is very good food, very expensive food, because Sir's dog is a fine dog.
All I am saying is this: there is one rule for Sir's dog and another rule for Special Dog. I ask you, why did this happen in FA Cup final week? Why? Maybe you think there is conspiracy against Special Dog because he is from Chelsea and Sir's dog is from Manchester. I speak only facts. You decide.
I have been in England now three years. It is great country. I love this country. I love it like a man loves his wife. Or like his wife loves her Special Dog. Maybe I should know its ways. Maybe I should understand by now how it works. For example. Michael Ballack, we bring him in from Germany to Chelsea. No-one says anything about injections. Andrei Shevchenko, him we bring from Italy. Nothing about quarantine. My wife's Gullit he come from Portugal. Suddenly it is all injections and quarantine and put him in the dogs' home. And for why? Is it Portugal? Is it my wife? Is it Special Dog? I only ask you these questions. You tell me. All I'll say is, in my country, they wouldn't treat a dog like this.
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/main.jh ... ose217.xml