mario and the technicolour overcoat...
I'm a bit bored at the moment, and since I'm lazy and uncreative as well, I spend my time browsing the web. And I found something. Some of you might know it already, but I thought I'd share it anyway because it's so damn hilarious.
Lasting Impression
If 2005 was Jose Mourinho's year, it wasn't bad either for the mimic who entertained the Chelsea manager and his players. Mario Rosenstock explains to Liam Mackey how the surreal gig came about.
SINCE one of the classic signs of mental disturbance is the belief that the man on the telly is talking directly to you, one can readily appreciate why Mario Rosenstock got a bit of a shock when, slouched at home in Dublin in front of the box one Saturday afternoon last October, he suddenly found himself being addressed by Sky Sports anchorman Jeff Stelling.
This frankly bizarre turn of events had begun with the Gift Grub creator's homage to Jose Mourinho on Today FM. 'Jose And His Amazing Technicolour Overcoat', based on the old Andrew Lloyd-Webber chestnut, was an Ian Dempsey idea made flesh by Rosenstock, who combined his writing talents and gift for mimicry to create a spoof song which debuted on the morning radio show and then took on a life of its own on the net.
Soon, feedback was coming in from England, Australia, the US and Stamford Bridge. The word was that the Chelsea manager had heard it, liked it and wanted some copies. A couple of weeks later, Rosenstock premiered a sequel, based on the Aretha Franklin classic 'I Say A Little Prayer', and called 'I Sign A Little Player Or Two' ("Every morning I wake up, before I crack open my egg cup, I sign a little player or two"). Again, there was enthusiastic feedback from Chelsea: this time the word was that Mourinho liked to play it in the car for his kids.
Then came the fateful Saturday afternoon when Rosenstock somewhat the worse for wear after a radio awards bash the night before was jolted out of his stupor by the sight of Chris Kamara interviewing Jose Mourinho on Sky Sports and asking him what he made of "the song."
In recalling the moment, Mario expertly parrots Mourinho's reply: 'I think it is fantastic, is amazing, is a beautiful record. I love it. The guy who does this is incredible.'
"And I'm there hungover," says Mario, "thinking, is this a dream?"
But there's more. Next thing, he hears Mourinho say: "And also maybe I am going to invite him over to Stamford Bridge and he is going to entertain players because the guy is amazing."
As Rosenstock tries to come to grips with the news that the special one thinks he's a bit special, the programme cuts back to the studio where, with 'Jose And His Amazing Technicolour Overcoat' now playing in the background, Rodney Marsh turns to Jeff Stelling and says: "Tell you what Jeff, last time I heard something like that it was Monty bloody Python."
And then Jeff faces the camera and, as they say in TV land, beams it straight down the bottle: "Well his name is Mario and if you're watching, Mario, do what the gaffer says and come on over."
"It was," says Mario Rosenstock," like something out of a David Cronenberg movie."
Two days later, the official invitation arrived from Stamford Bridge and, the following Saturday, Mario flew to Liverpool where Chelsea were playing Everton the next day for what he calls "the smallest gig of his career" in front of an elite audience of just 30 people. The set-up was a mock press conference in which he would play the manager, and the reporters supplied in advance with a series of written questions would be played by the Chelsea squad, backroom staff and, of course, Jose Mourinho. Rosenstock had still not met the manager by the time he walked into the expectant room wearing an Armani overcoat and with his tie undone. Slouching down in a chair behind a table and microphone, he thrust his hands in his pockets, chewed his gum and, from beneath heavy-lidded eyes, silently regarded those assembled in front of him.
The room convulsed in laughter before being called to order by a Chelsea press officer.
"First question for Jose. Didier?"
Drogba picked up his bit of paper but before he could read anything, looked straight at Mario, and was promptly overcome by a fit of the giggles. Eventually, he managed to splutter out his question: "How are you?"
'Jose' (long pause, chews, shrugs): "I am fantastic. I'm incredible. I'm amazing. I'm beautiful. I'm very well rounded. I'm very well dressed. I'm more beautiful than you. Go to bed Drogba. (Loudly) Makelele shut up and eat your vegetables."
With everyone now doubled up in their seats, the next question could barely be heard above the laughter: how do you think we'll do against Everton tomorrow?
'Jose': "I think, maybe, hmm, Everton will be humiliated, devastated, castrated, annihilated, destroyed, hmm, maybe eight, nine, ten-nil and that is only first half."
And so it went. He was asked about a typical day in his life. The backing track kicked in and Mario sang: "The moment I wake up, before I crack open my eggcup, I sign a little player or two..."
Eventually, the real Mourinho stood up and brought proceedings to a halt, saying: "I told you, the guy's amazing," and then, with the clock at 9.30, instructing his charges, "now go to bed." And he meant it, later explaining to a curious Rosenstock that he wanted his players in their rooms early on the eve of a game, although he conceded that it wouldn't actually be lights out for a while: apparently Drogba would be at his Playstation, Makelele and Essien would play cards and Crespo might have a massage.
Meanwhile, there was one piece of unfinished business for Mario. One notable figure who hadn't made the trip to Liverpool was the injured Damien Duff, a man known as 'Whacker' at the Bridge, since he began trying to popularise the phrase as an alternative to the ubiquitous 'geezer'. A Chelsea minder called Gary was anxious that the Dubliner wouldn't be left out and, winking and motioning Mario to his side, he dialled a number and spoke into it as follows: "Whacker? Gaffer wants a word."
Mario recalls that the conversation with the unsuspecting Duffer went something like this:
'Mourinho': "Good evening, Damien."
Duff: "Hi."
'Mourinho': "We have problem. Wright-Phillips and Robben have broken legs, today, in training."
Duff: "What!?"
'Mourinho': "Yes, you have to come tomorrow to play against Everton. I will play you on left and..."
Duff (interrupting loudly): "But what about my ligament?"
'Mourinho': "Forget ligament. I sell you to Walsall for one half million if you don't get here soon as possible."
At which point, says Mario, all he heard on other end of the line were two very loud words one of which was 'off'. The penny had finally dropped. (For the record, Duff by his own admission, a big fan of Mario's work claims he knew it was a wind-up all along. "He's brilliant but he obviously has to exaggerate," the Duffer grinned, when I passed on greetings from Mario in London last week).
With his charges down for the night, Mourinho and a couple of Portuguese and English staffers, took time out to shoot the breeze with Mario over a three-litre bottle of coke. "Now, I want to know everything," Mourinho began. "It was like a first date," Mario recalls.
Albeit one with multiple partners. The Chelsea manager was fascinated by the mechanics of doing impressions, and Mario demonstrated how he developed a voice, using the example of Mick McCarthy. Mourinho was blown away: "Ah, you close your eyes and it is McCarthy," he enthused, "McCarthy is in the room."
Mario went through other impressions Jol, O'Leary, Wenger and Ferguson before a delighted Mourinho asked why he had chosen to do him. Mario explained that he'd first been hooked by Jose's famous fist-punching, touchline celebration when Porto turned over Manchester United at Old Trafford.
"I stood up to demonstrate and went all around the room. Everyone was pissing themselves, and Jose was laughing, going: 'Was that me? Was that me?' He loved it."
Reflecting on it all since, Rosenstock has been pondering just why Mourinho invited him over and reckons he thinks he knows the answer.
"Okay, it could have been just for the sheer hell of it but I think the more likely reason is to impose his cult of personality still further on that bunch of millionaires," he says. "It's as if he was saying: how many of you guys have professional comedians impersonating you and writing songs about you? Isn't this guy cool and who is he celebrating? Me.
"And I think it's fair to say that he is the biggest commodity Chelsea have. He didn't sign Ronaldinho and he didn't sign David Beckham he has signed himself."
There's more here, but I think this is the most interesting part. :D
If this amused you, this might amuse you as well:
» José and His Amazing Technicolour Overcoat
» I Sign a Little Player or Two
» Shaddap Your Face
Lasting Impression
If 2005 was Jose Mourinho's year, it wasn't bad either for the mimic who entertained the Chelsea manager and his players. Mario Rosenstock explains to Liam Mackey how the surreal gig came about.
SINCE one of the classic signs of mental disturbance is the belief that the man on the telly is talking directly to you, one can readily appreciate why Mario Rosenstock got a bit of a shock when, slouched at home in Dublin in front of the box one Saturday afternoon last October, he suddenly found himself being addressed by Sky Sports anchorman Jeff Stelling.
This frankly bizarre turn of events had begun with the Gift Grub creator's homage to Jose Mourinho on Today FM. 'Jose And His Amazing Technicolour Overcoat', based on the old Andrew Lloyd-Webber chestnut, was an Ian Dempsey idea made flesh by Rosenstock, who combined his writing talents and gift for mimicry to create a spoof song which debuted on the morning radio show and then took on a life of its own on the net.
Soon, feedback was coming in from England, Australia, the US and Stamford Bridge. The word was that the Chelsea manager had heard it, liked it and wanted some copies. A couple of weeks later, Rosenstock premiered a sequel, based on the Aretha Franklin classic 'I Say A Little Prayer', and called 'I Sign A Little Player Or Two' ("Every morning I wake up, before I crack open my egg cup, I sign a little player or two"). Again, there was enthusiastic feedback from Chelsea: this time the word was that Mourinho liked to play it in the car for his kids.
Then came the fateful Saturday afternoon when Rosenstock somewhat the worse for wear after a radio awards bash the night before was jolted out of his stupor by the sight of Chris Kamara interviewing Jose Mourinho on Sky Sports and asking him what he made of "the song."
In recalling the moment, Mario expertly parrots Mourinho's reply: 'I think it is fantastic, is amazing, is a beautiful record. I love it. The guy who does this is incredible.'
"And I'm there hungover," says Mario, "thinking, is this a dream?"
But there's more. Next thing, he hears Mourinho say: "And also maybe I am going to invite him over to Stamford Bridge and he is going to entertain players because the guy is amazing."
As Rosenstock tries to come to grips with the news that the special one thinks he's a bit special, the programme cuts back to the studio where, with 'Jose And His Amazing Technicolour Overcoat' now playing in the background, Rodney Marsh turns to Jeff Stelling and says: "Tell you what Jeff, last time I heard something like that it was Monty bloody Python."
And then Jeff faces the camera and, as they say in TV land, beams it straight down the bottle: "Well his name is Mario and if you're watching, Mario, do what the gaffer says and come on over."
"It was," says Mario Rosenstock," like something out of a David Cronenberg movie."
Two days later, the official invitation arrived from Stamford Bridge and, the following Saturday, Mario flew to Liverpool where Chelsea were playing Everton the next day for what he calls "the smallest gig of his career" in front of an elite audience of just 30 people. The set-up was a mock press conference in which he would play the manager, and the reporters supplied in advance with a series of written questions would be played by the Chelsea squad, backroom staff and, of course, Jose Mourinho. Rosenstock had still not met the manager by the time he walked into the expectant room wearing an Armani overcoat and with his tie undone. Slouching down in a chair behind a table and microphone, he thrust his hands in his pockets, chewed his gum and, from beneath heavy-lidded eyes, silently regarded those assembled in front of him.
The room convulsed in laughter before being called to order by a Chelsea press officer.
"First question for Jose. Didier?"
Drogba picked up his bit of paper but before he could read anything, looked straight at Mario, and was promptly overcome by a fit of the giggles. Eventually, he managed to splutter out his question: "How are you?"
'Jose' (long pause, chews, shrugs): "I am fantastic. I'm incredible. I'm amazing. I'm beautiful. I'm very well rounded. I'm very well dressed. I'm more beautiful than you. Go to bed Drogba. (Loudly) Makelele shut up and eat your vegetables."
With everyone now doubled up in their seats, the next question could barely be heard above the laughter: how do you think we'll do against Everton tomorrow?
'Jose': "I think, maybe, hmm, Everton will be humiliated, devastated, castrated, annihilated, destroyed, hmm, maybe eight, nine, ten-nil and that is only first half."
And so it went. He was asked about a typical day in his life. The backing track kicked in and Mario sang: "The moment I wake up, before I crack open my eggcup, I sign a little player or two..."
Eventually, the real Mourinho stood up and brought proceedings to a halt, saying: "I told you, the guy's amazing," and then, with the clock at 9.30, instructing his charges, "now go to bed." And he meant it, later explaining to a curious Rosenstock that he wanted his players in their rooms early on the eve of a game, although he conceded that it wouldn't actually be lights out for a while: apparently Drogba would be at his Playstation, Makelele and Essien would play cards and Crespo might have a massage.
Meanwhile, there was one piece of unfinished business for Mario. One notable figure who hadn't made the trip to Liverpool was the injured Damien Duff, a man known as 'Whacker' at the Bridge, since he began trying to popularise the phrase as an alternative to the ubiquitous 'geezer'. A Chelsea minder called Gary was anxious that the Dubliner wouldn't be left out and, winking and motioning Mario to his side, he dialled a number and spoke into it as follows: "Whacker? Gaffer wants a word."
Mario recalls that the conversation with the unsuspecting Duffer went something like this:
'Mourinho': "Good evening, Damien."
Duff: "Hi."
'Mourinho': "We have problem. Wright-Phillips and Robben have broken legs, today, in training."
Duff: "What!?"
'Mourinho': "Yes, you have to come tomorrow to play against Everton. I will play you on left and..."
Duff (interrupting loudly): "But what about my ligament?"
'Mourinho': "Forget ligament. I sell you to Walsall for one half million if you don't get here soon as possible."
At which point, says Mario, all he heard on other end of the line were two very loud words one of which was 'off'. The penny had finally dropped. (For the record, Duff by his own admission, a big fan of Mario's work claims he knew it was a wind-up all along. "He's brilliant but he obviously has to exaggerate," the Duffer grinned, when I passed on greetings from Mario in London last week).
With his charges down for the night, Mourinho and a couple of Portuguese and English staffers, took time out to shoot the breeze with Mario over a three-litre bottle of coke. "Now, I want to know everything," Mourinho began. "It was like a first date," Mario recalls.
Albeit one with multiple partners. The Chelsea manager was fascinated by the mechanics of doing impressions, and Mario demonstrated how he developed a voice, using the example of Mick McCarthy. Mourinho was blown away: "Ah, you close your eyes and it is McCarthy," he enthused, "McCarthy is in the room."
Mario went through other impressions Jol, O'Leary, Wenger and Ferguson before a delighted Mourinho asked why he had chosen to do him. Mario explained that he'd first been hooked by Jose's famous fist-punching, touchline celebration when Porto turned over Manchester United at Old Trafford.
"I stood up to demonstrate and went all around the room. Everyone was pissing themselves, and Jose was laughing, going: 'Was that me? Was that me?' He loved it."
Reflecting on it all since, Rosenstock has been pondering just why Mourinho invited him over and reckons he thinks he knows the answer.
"Okay, it could have been just for the sheer hell of it but I think the more likely reason is to impose his cult of personality still further on that bunch of millionaires," he says. "It's as if he was saying: how many of you guys have professional comedians impersonating you and writing songs about you? Isn't this guy cool and who is he celebrating? Me.
"And I think it's fair to say that he is the biggest commodity Chelsea have. He didn't sign Ronaldinho and he didn't sign David Beckham he has signed himself."
There's more here, but I think this is the most interesting part. :D
If this amused you, this might amuse you as well:
» José and His Amazing Technicolour Overcoat
» I Sign a Little Player or Two
» Shaddap Your Face