BRENT A GOB: To kick off 2026, our resident rant-machine Harry Brent is predicting who he'll target the most over the next 12 months, after Cristiano Ronaldo's was crowned the second-annual Brent a Gob s**** of the Year
10:44, 31 Dec 2025Updated 10:46, 31 Dec 2025
Harry Brent AI
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Our man Harry Brent is predicting who he will target most this year
New Year's is overrated. It's like picnics, oysters and Mousa Dembele – only deluded simpletons who probably support Tottenham think it's class.
You'll either spend the evening ignoring the fireworks the way Manchester United's recruitment team ignores common sense, or wake up tomorrow nursing a hangover more excruciating than an afternoon listening to Steve McManaman on commentary.
And don't get me started on the 'New Year, New Me' waffle. It's like West Ham since David Moyes left: absolute garbage. By February, you'll have quit the gym faster than Big Sam quits a salad bar. I don't bother with reinvention. I like being a grumpy ginger whinge-bag – and I plan to stay that way in 2026 and beyond.
Cristiano Ronaldo
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Cristiano Ronaldo was crowned 2025 Brent a Gobsh**e of the Year(Image: Carlos Rodrigues/Getty Images)
As such, I've gazed into my crystal ball to see who might follow in the footsteps of 2024 winner Jude Bellingham and 2025 winner Cristiano Ronaldo as the next Brent a Gobsh**e of the Year. I'm also listing my football resolutions: things I'd love to see bite the dust faster than Jermaine Jenas' broadcast career. Strap in.
2026 Brent a Gob **** of the Year contenders
Thomas Tuchel is definitely in the running. Don't get me wrong, I love that he refuses to blow smoke up Bellingham's backside, but with the World Cup looming, the man is a ticking time bomb. He's got the temperament of a wasp at a picnic and if things go south this summer he has more meltdown potential than Gordon Ramsay being served a microwaved steak.
Thomas Tuchel
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Thomas Tuchel has a lot of meltdown potential this year(Image: Alex Pantling, Getty Images)
Next we have Mikel Arteta. The asphalt-haired Spaniard has been nails-on-a-chalkboard annoying for years – flailing about on the touchline like a wacky inflatable tube man.
And with Arsenal creeping towards the title, he could reach Cersei Lannister levels of smug villainy this year – and I'm not sure my blood pressure can take it.
Lastly, I'm going for Virgil van Dijk. I'm sick of his 'Aura Defending'. The man backs off a challenge the way Prince Harry backs off a family reunion - and his blunders, which are becoming more regular than a PGMOL apology statement, get brushed under the carpet, simply because he looks calm and probably smells like expensive aftershave.
Van Dijk
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For all his talents, Virgil van Dijk is getting a bit irritating(Image: Molly Darlington/Copa, Getty Images)
New Year's Brent-solutions
As for resolutions, I want Gary Neville and Jamie Carragher banned from Man United and Liverpool commentary. When working their former teams, that pair are about as impartial as a Rottweiler reviewing a leg of lamb.
They're like deluded mums at parents' evening, obsessed with their precious little darlings and convinced that everyone wants to hear about them as much as they do. Leave the biased, emotional waffling to me, lads.
Secondly, I want a limit on throw-ins into the box. What's with this ridiculous long throw-in revival? It's more prehistoric than the plumbing at Old Trafford.
Gary Neville and Jamie Carragher
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Gary Neville and Jamie Carragher struggle to stay neutral when commentating on their former teams(Image: Getty Images)
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The fact that everyone wants to play like 2008 Stoke City is a bigger joke than Alexander Isak's spell at Liverpool. If I wanted to watch blokes relentlessly tossing balls I'd spend a Friday night in a Soho sauna.
Lastly, I want referees to actually book players for diving. Like half-and-half scarves, £8 pints and Rio Ferdinand, simulation is a scourge that has quietly infected the modern game.
Sure, the blatant stuff gets caught, but I'm sick of seeing refs do the dismissive 'get up' hand gesture after a player flops to the floor like Woody from Toy Story when Andy walks in the room. Just book him, you spineless bottle-job.