Dimitar Berbatov is...The Continental

Well hello there.

I see you've caught me joyously celebrating with Chicharito a.k.a. Little Berba. As Manchester United's greatest ever goal scorer, I have groomed him in my image -- starting with the mayonnaise-filled gloves. While he doesn't have my devilish good looks, my charm, my wit, my arousing widow's peak, my raccoon-like scent or my ability to guess the color of your underpants, Little Berba is developing into a good scorer and reliable Berba-bait in bringing Berba-beauties back to my carpeted van. Ha-HA! ... Yes, I do try to smell like raccoon and no, I don't care if you think that's weird.

My genius on the pitch and erotic excellence as a raccoon-odored mentor aside, I just wanted to reassure you on this mad day of footballers coming and going that your dear Berba will not abandon you. ... Yes, even if you get the police to demand that I do. ... The Berba will always be here for you, sitting awkwardly in a tree outside your window, holding used massage oils, eagerly awaiting your come-hither glance that will begin a night of sensual delights and maybe watching NewsRadio on DVD. Ha-HA!

Even if I tried to leave Manchester United, the club wouldn't let me. I made a wonderful joke about such prospects the other day and Sir Alex nearly wept. "Please, Berba, we rely on you and your sexy skills far too much," he cried. And then he told me to resume cleaning the toilet in his private bathroom. Ha-HA! So don't fear, my pet. The Berba will always be near and will always know the color of your underpants.

Oh-OHHH! I just saw you slip your phone number to Little Berba! Oh, yes, I saw that! Oh, the betrayal! It appears I have groomed my protege far too well! Oh, this is both heartbreaking and depressing. Unless you two let me watch.

Join us again next time for another chapt! er in th e life of...The Continental...

Photo: AP