Have you read Robbo Robson's piece on Cristiano Ronaldo? I couldnt help but laugh.

I am a massive fan of Ronaldo as a footballer but as a person I am not quite sure, I personally don't know he but he comes across as an arrogant, self obsessed footballer.

Back onto the blog, this piece is well worth reading, here it is or you can click here to read the whole lot:

Congratulations to Cristiano Ronaldo. No one else could've won the Ballon D'Or (although given it means Golden Ball, Becks should've really bagged two of them by now).

He's rightly chuffed and given there's hardly a thing he can't do with a football, I'd go so far as to say he's the best player the Premiership's ever seen. There were nicer ones (Zola), smarter ones (Bergkamp), sleeker ones (Henry) but none has approached Ronaldo's speed of movement, ability in the air, and wobbliness of free-kick.

All of which might explain why Fergie couldn't quite bring himself to call the lad a dozy plank after his Manc Derby madness on Sunday. Fergie may have fought tooth and nail to keep Senor S-S-Studio Line at OT, but the post-match defence of the gelled tumbler bordered on the laughable.

First of all Ronaldo was 'trying to protect his face'. Crikey I know he's vain but that's ridiculous. Any road, don't these modern-day jessies have face protection cream for just such an emergency? Men's moisturiser! It's a contradiction in bleeding terms, isn't it? Like US intelligence and mature student.

It's not like a bent schnozz would be a problem any road, is it? The lad's got enough cash in the back of his ripped-jeans' pocket to pay for some corrective work to fix it. After all, the lass he was rumoured to be going out with earlier this year was a living testament to the power of plastic surgery.

(Personally I've never like the enhanced look on a lady where nothing moves. It's wrong, I tell you - Isaac Newton could tell you that. To me, it only ever conjures up an image of Paul Gascoigne in 1990 by the team swimming pool. Shudder.)

Secondly, Fergie says there was a push on Ronaldo. Oh yeah, that's right - 'cos every time I've been pushed on a footie field I've instinctively tried to catch the ball. Besides which, if there had been even the teensiest nudge you can be sure the World's Best Footballer would've been browsing the Eastlands turf in the horizontal position quick-smart.

Finally, of course, there was the mystery whistle that Cristiano apparently heard. No-one else heard it, just the Greatest Player on the Planet. So not content with being able to outsprint a peregrine falcon and leap higher than a springing gazelle, Ronaldo now swears he has the hearing capacity of the average golden retriever.

What whistle? A wolf-whistle, perhaps? Yes, that was it, a lady wolf-whistled him and he suddenly remembered how irrefutably gorgeous he was and, with the ball rapidly approaching the beautiful mug, a voice in his head yelled 'No, no, not the face! Anywhere but the face!' and up came the hands in a way Heurelho Gomes can only dream of.