A Day in the Life of Damien Comolli

Like my last A Day in the Life entry, the following is complete nonsense and is not intended to be taken seriously.

07:12 Get up early. Talent ain't going to spot itself. Croissants and grapefruit for breakfast this morning. A cosmopolitan breakfast for a cosmopolitan guy. Head down to the local kiosk afterwards. Buy all the daily papers, except The Sun. That way you feel like you belong in this city. Damien Comolli, man of the people, honourary Scouser. That has a nice ring to it. Maybe the fans will make a chant for you. Daniel Levy doesn't have a chant. This thought comforts you as you settle down to read the papers. Straight to the sport sections. Today Liverpool are linked with Karim Benzema. Hmmm. He's French. Would probably cost a lot of money though. Besides, Henry loves David Ngog. Remember to run it by Kenny later just in case.

08:46 Arrive at Melwood. There's no one around. The team is touring south-east Asia at the moment. It's the third consecutive morning that you've forgotten. Wander around the grounds before heading to your office. You hear a voice. Peer around the corner of a wall to find Milan Jovanović rocking back and forth on the ground. He's muttering to himself. He calls out, "Mr Comolli?". You step out from behind the wall and say good morning. His eyes are bulging. He looks as if he hasn't slept in days, weeks maybe. Suddenly he pins you up against the wall. He asks you when Mr Hodgson is coming back. Tell him that Hodgson will be back soon and that he told you he's looking forward to seeing his favourite footballer. He relaxes his grip and starts to smile. "Thank you, Mr Comolli," he says before returning to muttering to himself and rocking back and forth.

09:31 Go through your emails in the comfort of your office. Glance occasionally at the photo of Gaël Clichy on your desk. The player you discovered. Your player. Would Wenger have the Invincibles without him? No way. Damien Comolli, man of the people, honourary Scouser, saviour of Arsenal. Return to your inbox. Come to an email from wheeler.dealer47@gmail.com. It's Harry Redknapp. That gormless rosbif. It's about 'Joey' Cole. He wants to buy him! No time to ring Kenny or Henry. Tell Harry that you're more than happy to do business with him. Lying like this is hard but you'd talk to anyone who's willing to take Cole off your hands. Even Levy.

11:53 You're still in the office. You haven't told Kenny or Henry about Cole. Turn on Sky Sports News. Redknapp's holding a presser. The Cockney git denies any interest in 'Joey' Cole. The liar. You're sure that this is Levy's work. Miserly sod probably told Redknapp he wouldn't pay the money. Good job you didn't tell Kenny or John. But still you're stuck with Cole. Not to mention Poulsen. And Jovanović, Degen and Ngog. Even Nabil bloody El Zhar is still on the books. No use spending Henry's millions on new players if you can't shift the old ones. Incoming call. It's the very man you need to speak to. John W Henry.

14:17 Henry keeps you on the phone for two hours. You get nowhere with him. All he wants to talk about is Ngog. He hangs up to read the latest post on The Swiss Ramble. You don't even get the chance to ask him about Benzema. At least he's better than Levy. Levy would probably take the money from the sale of Torres for himself. Yes, Henry's been quite kind to you. Ashley Young, Phil Jones, David De Gea? How about Stewart Downing, Jordan Henderson, Charlie Adam and Doni? David Gill must be green with envy. It's been your best transfer window since you bought Javier Saviola for Monaco on Championship Manager 2000. Damien Comolli, man of the people, honourary Scouser, saviour of Arsenal, transfer master.

16:03 Manage to get Kenny on the phone. You are his peer now. You don't even call him King any more. You just wish that he'd stop calling you Damo. Tell him about Benzema. He sounds enthusiastic. He says he's been looking to add another skinhead to the squad. Meireles, Cole, Spearing, Adam, Shelvey and Škrtel are not enough for him. Tell him you're worried that Henry might not fork out the cash if he thinks Benzema will take Ngog's place. Kenny mutters something about sending Kyrgiakos to pay Henry a visit. He hangs up without thanking you for Downing or Doni. Maybe you should have called him King.

17:16 Read Modrić's transfer request and enjoy the glorious schadenfreude. You know Levy laughed at you when Torres left. This is your revenge. You can scarcely remember laughing harder. As you leave Melwood, you find Jovanović rocking in the exact same spot he was in the morning. Exchange a smile with him. Everything is groovy when Daniel Levy's miserable.

19:59  Celebrate Levy's misery and your transfer genius with a glass of Sauvignon blanc. Before you know it, you're on your fifth glass. Emboldened by your transfer success (and the wine), you give your old friend Gaël Clichy a call. You don't see how he can resist your persuasive charm. But he doesn't sound happy to hear from you. He says something about Manchester City before telling you to leave him alone. The padawan has renounced his master. You're devastated. Go up to the attic and dig out your photo album of your time at Arsenal. Tear apart every photo with his face in it. Damien Comolli, Arsenal's saviour, but nobody appreciates it. Not even the player you discovered, the man you took a gamble on. All you can hear is the laughter of Daniel Levy.

23:11 Go to bed early. A rough night's sleep awaits. When you finally drift off, Harry Redknapp's goading face leers at you in your dreams. Redknapp's face suddenly morphs into Gaël Clichy's. Clichy spits that you're nothing to him. Finally, Clichy's harsh words become the cackles of Daniel Levy. Wake up in a cold sweat.

Damien Comolli, man of the people, honourary Scouser, Arsenal's saviour, transfer master. Tortured soul.