Flog - I'll make you an offer you cannot refuse...Clive

This week I refuse to talk about anything Manchester City are doing, apart from the fact that they are building a team of super-strikers and only need to give them all Captain Planet style rings to make one hell of a TV show. I would watch, and I know you would too.
This edition of Flog is devoted to mediocre players. Players that do a job, fill a hole, come on as a sub to waste time. Players you like (or liked) but would never seriously consider getting their name put on the back of your shirt, however this factor also includes Jan Venegoor of Hesselink. We’re in a recession, for Christ’s sake.
Mediocre cannot mean shit either. We’re not taking into account players like Eric Djemba-Djemba here, and that’s also two weeks in a row he’s been mentioned in Flog, so pride should, nay, must be oozing from his talentless head. Nor can it mean unsung heroes, such as Ole Gunnar Solskjaer, who never fully got the praise he deserved as one of the best finishers the Premiership has ever seen.
Ultimate mediocre players; Egil Ostenstadt, a player who took ‘lean goals tally’ to new levels, but seemed to bag a couple of important ones for Southampton and Blackburn when it counted. Neil Redfearn, somehow once labelled ‘captain fantastic’ when playing for Barnsley, he later went on to waddle around aimlessly in a Charlton shirt. Martin Pringle, another Charlton plain Jane, scored more goals in the few months he was on loan at the Valley than for the rest of his top-flight career, and he looked like he never washed. David Howells- even had a mediocre name- fits into our ‘does a job’ category very nicely. Daruis Vassell, shit-hot for England when we needed him to be, but not a top flight finisher. Recently been released by Manchester Ci….ahhh!
Stig Inge Bjornebye has a shot at being the best ever, seeing as he was relentlessly played by Roy Evans during the period Liverpool could ‘boast’ Phil Babb as their best defender and yet still look terrible. Ruel Fox is a man many Spurs fans do not believe existed and was merely some sort of déjà vu of a fat Aaron Lennon. Jesper Blomkvist, the greasy Swedish winger, is wearing a United shirt in the photo on his Wikipedia page (take a look, it’s beyond hilarious) like a jilted boyfriend trying to convince his true love that he still thinks about her. United do not imagine Anderson is you at night, Jesper. They have moved on.
Clive Mendonca! This is getting brilliant now. His surname warranted some sort of Mafia style nickname, like ‘The Don’ or something, but it was when people realised his forename was Clive that his edge was immediately wiped out. Charlton’s hero simply for the Playoff Final against Sunderland, but the name simply shoves him into this list.
And who remembers Danny Tiatto? The only man under 3ft to ever play football professionally. It seemed his only appeal was that he played more like a boxer than a winger, and he could take a wicked free kick and penalty. Good and indeed bad enough for the list.
Kevin Gallagher. Worryingly overplayed by Blackburn, I will always remember his name with utter discontent. Many a Saturday afternoon, sitting at home, I would be forced by my thirst for football to watch a terrible Scotland international qualifier against someone like, I don’t know, The Azerbanistahn Isles, and see Gallagher being marvelled at for his goal scoring ability. He played against postmen (but still scored goals- so he’s in).
I cant pick a winner. Nor can I continue because a) it could go on forever and b) I still find myself giggling at Clive Mendonca every so often.