The hall of footballers turning to pop stars is a space which is so crammed with failure that it makes the Brighton and Hove Albion trophy room look like a branch of Tiffanys. The trouble is, of course, that as footballers get paid more and more, the temptation to spend some of that cash on making a disc must be overwhelming - all that saves us is that they're usually too busy having empty sex with whoever is next week's front page of Zoo, they never get round to it.
Didier Drogba has actually gone and completed an album, though. We haven't heard it, and he might be good. But the pseudonym he's chosen doesn't inspire confidence:
Tell us, Drogbacite, about your music:
“I need my music, especially before a game. I use it in the dressing room.”
Is it just us, or is there something slightly creepy about listening to songs you've made about how great you are before you go out onto the pitch? It's a little bit like something you might read in one of those motivational books as good advice.