Wayne Rooney is a model husband – think about it, writes VICTORIA GALLAGHER-O'HOULIHAN
CALL ME an old-fashioned girl, but marriage rocks. Who doesn’t want a great day out in Tuscany with all their family and friends?
For as long as I can remember, I have entertained wedding-related fantasies. The details may change. I know that if the boring parts of this newspaper are correct and the IMF sends in their death squads, I may have to settle for swans instead of a complete menagerie. And the Tsarina Barbie frock with pink light-up trim I longed for as a youngster has long ago given way to a simple Versace.
But one aspect of the happiest day of my life has, to date, eluded me. Who will be the lucky guy? My friends and I have very strong feelings on this. It’s not just about the money. It’s a matter of self-respect. When gentlemen callers start looking broody, ask yourself the question: why settle for someone who doesn’t play in the Premiership or, if you’re patriotic, the Irish rugby squad?
Why indeed? Until recently the groom of my dreams has always appeared as a vague sporty blur. But certain revelations over the past few weeks have got me thinking. It was like a little light bulb appeared over my head.
“Ulrika!” I cried. The ideal husband is Wayne Rooney!
Look at the sums. There’s at least 50 per cent of his earnings (£100,000 a week), several kick-ass properties and 18 years of child support up for grabs.
Like Coleen, however, I am a career girl, so the divorce settlement is merely a bonus. There are far more important opportunities to be had from this tragedy.
Just look at Cheryl Cole. One minute she’s the nasty girl who battered a lavatory attendant and called her a very mean word. All it took was a few infidelities from Ashley to transform her into a British national treasure. How much more pity and publicity, then, could Coleen wring out of Wayne?
Consider, too, the pregnancy. With a baby comes great responsibility, and lucrative photo ops. There’s the poignant “smiling but alone” series of snaps from the labour ward, plus years of birthday parties. Should daddy bother to turn up, every picture can be flogged under the heading “Is a reconciliation on the cards?” And if he doesn’t, then it’s “Brave Single Mum” time.
A child can also be very useful in terms of broadening your demographic appeal. In addition to Mrs Rooney’s current multi- million-pound arrangements with Littlewoods, Asda and LG Electronics, a smart lady like her could surely put together a kiddie fashion line or a child-centric yoga DVD.
I’ve read those stories, and I am surprised that any entertainment colleague of mine would turn her nose up at the Manchester United forward. By any definition, Wayne Rooney is a winning ticket. If I had been out and about on the evening in question I would have been on that footballer like a cheap lipstick. Ching, ching!
