The secret diary of Cristiano Ronaldo

A hilarious (and fake!) diary of Cristiano Ronaldo.

January 20, 2016

For the first time in my life, I am missing Rafa Benitez. He might be a fat Spanish waiter, but he didn’t make you feel inferior. In fact, I felt like the Einstein of football whenever his clueless face was around me.

Now, however, with Zinedine Zidane, it is an entirely different story.

Zidane is a great guy, a legend—and that is good. What is not good is the fact that he is still a great player. The other day, Arbeloa was telling me how he went on from feeling like the Spanish version of Paolo Maldini to…well…a cone, which is technically feeling like himself.

He further added that he is having a very tough time getting up from the bed and coming to training because he gets nutmegged by Zidane once every 10 seconds. And we all have a terrific laugh. The man’s a genius in every sense.

His presence has lightened up the environment in the dressing room and it was all merry until…until he schooled me in a free-kick session. While I was perfecting my already-awesome [American football] free-kick skills, Zidane came up and told me that his nan’s free-kicks are more accurate and that he will show me how to take them.

Yes, Zidane is a great guy

I accepted the challenge since I thought that he is no match to the greatest player ever. And then I was humiliated. He took 10 shots and scored them all while I took 10 shots and killed 10 birds. For the remainder of the day, I couldn’t look him in the eye (for the record, none of us can look him in the eye, his beautiful bald face shines like the moon, attracting our vision towards it).

January 25, 2016

All these days, I was so busy getting my hair done that I hardly had any time to pen down my awesome feelings. Finally, I found some time today after setting my hair quickly by spending only 4 hours and 52 minutes on it.

They say that the club tried to sign Messi 3 times in the last few years and that they want to sign Neymar now. I find these rumours very offensive. I mean, seriously, what have these guys done since I came to Madrid?

Champions League titles? Ballon d’Ors? La Liga dominance? Meh. These things are not important, except when we won them. What is more important is my line of underwear garments.

Ballon d’Or is not important except when I win

Sure, Messi and Neymar may have won more, but do they own a fine line of underwear garments? Nope. To be a Real Madrid player, you can’t just be a skilled player, you need to be commercially hot and I am just that.

January 28, 2016

Today, I schooled Jese. The kid thought that he could outdrive me, so I zoomed past him while leaving the training ground.

Many folks said that he was my natural replacement at Real Madrid. Not only were those claims outrageous, they were hilarious. The guy can’t even rap properly. Since he couldn’t take over me on the pitch, he wanted to get the satisfaction of driving ahead of me after training, but I robbed it off from him.

Let me get one thing straight: I hate losing, be it a football game or pebbles counting. When I and Irina were together, we used to have these swimming competitions which I never let her win after our first encounter, which she won and I started crying.

Furthermore, I don’t even let my son outcry me. There are times when we cry together and my mother Dolores sticks a lolly in our mouths to shut us up.

So when Jese raced ahead of me, I couldn’t take it. The news folks have made a big deal out of this as if I did something satanic. They make it sound like I drove over a baby and squashed it under my tire. Yes, I ran the risk of doing so, but I didn’t now, did I?

February 5, 2016

Oh, yeah, it is my birthday. Usually, I stay very busy today, so I will keep it short. Today has to be one of my worst birthdays ever. I woke up alone with no-one sleeping beside me. My son comes to me and says, “daddy, daddy, do you have Neymar’s number?”

I asked him why and he said that he wanted to wish him a happy birthday. I was devastated. My son hadn’t wished me a happy birthday but wanted to do so to Neymar. I can’t believe that God conspired against me by sending Neymar to this world on the same day he sent me.

But well, I checked my mentions as well as Neymar’s and I got more wishes than him, so it is all good now.

Today, I am throwing a mini-party. People say that me throwing a party after losing a game last season was the beginning of the downfall of Real Madrid. Since we are already in somewhat of a mess this season, here’s hoping that this becomes the beginning of an upward slope.

I have invited both Messi and Neymar to my birthday party in an attempt to feed them stuff, eventually food poisoning them. Also, this will give me an advantage in the Pichichi race. I am doing the same against Karim Benzema, too.

February 6, 2016

Lionel Messi and Neymar couldn’t make it to my party.

I am too hungover on Red Bulls (from last night) to write a long entry. The party was a bang. I got many gifts from my pals, but the best one was Gareth’s present: he gifted me an entire set of hair gels that will last for quite some time.

Just in case, you were wondering, which I am sure you are, Lionel Messi and Neymar couldn’t make it to my party. Apparently, Messi became so drunk at Neymar’s birthday party that Xavi had to fly in from Qatar to carry him out of there and assist him to his home safely.

I was also informed that Neymar wanted to make a short appearance in my party, but Luis Enrique didn’t allow him for he feared that Perez might just kidnap him and sign him to play for Real Madrid. Well, Luis, you did the right thing, I hadn’t thought of it myself.

Finally, Benzema came to the party but didn’t eat the food I had my maid prepare for him. He was acting really weird, he was trying to hook up our team-mates with the girl he brought with him and had a video camera in his hand.

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Edited by Staff Editor