Petr Cech's incredible howler against Turkey last night added further mental scarring to an already shell-shocked Chelsea squad.
The last month has seen John Terry's Week of TearsTM and strong rumours that Cheryl Cole has finally decided to ditch 'love rat' Ashley, before Cech's nightmare last night.
Early Döorß shudders to think what terrible fate awaits Michael Ballack tonight against Austria (a 10-5 hammering if the story below holds any water).
All of this psychological damage threatens to make the dressing room at Stamford Bridge more like the clinic in One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest, with unhinged players shaking uncontrollably in their chairs and picking fights with themselves.
Early Döorß fully expects Didier 'The Chief' Drogba, to throw a large appliance through the window and make good his escape from Nurse Ratched, a.k.a. Big Phil Scolari.
ED is used to seeing players and managers arrive at clubs full of false claims that: 'My heart belongs to Derby County'.
No such thing from Big Phil, who said his move to Chelsea was motivated by one thing and one thing only - money.
"There are numbers, and based on these numbers we decided the best thing for me was what was decided a few days ago," droned Scolari, doing his utmost to put on an expression that conveyed 'really fired up'.
Without wanting to make a serious point, how successful can you be when even your manager is happy to admit he is a mercenary?
Turkey showed last night what you can do when you really, really care - can you really have the same intensity when you know you will trouser £130,000 irrespective of the result?
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Oh, the picture at the top of the page?
Well, no, it isn't a gutted Cech. But haven't you seen enough pictures of Chelsea players crying?
Instead ED brings you news from a topless beach football game between Austria and Germany, featuring what are generously described as 'erotic actresses' from their respective countries.
Early Döorß, you must remember, is an enlightened continental type who suffers from none of the prudishness of you Englischers.
And as everybody knows, it's not nudity if there's body paint involved.
The John Motson lurking inside ED finds itself compelled to look for omens in the Austrians' comfortable 10-5 victory - a similar result tonight would see pre-tournament favourites dumped out of Euro 2008.
"I hope our men will take heart from that tomorrow. We played pretty hard, we even had some injuries, like I for example broke my toe nail," said 29-year-old Austrienne Doris Fastenmeir.
"I was supposed to hold the balls but I really have no idea how to do that," said German keeper Jana Bach (insert smutty joke here).
"Maybe it is because I am not all that much into soccer. I am more into shoes to be honest." As, it would seem, is Petr Cech.
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Early Döorß has done the Rooney nuptials to death, particularly the papers' condescending treatment of 'The Chav Charles and Di'.
Still, it had to laugh at the News of the World's description of Coleen's wedding ring as: "Topped by a magnificent diamond the size of a chicken nugget."
Clearly the only form of measurement These People understand is not metric or imperial, but units of fast food.
The Screws was in good form yesterday, also publishing a kiss-and-tell from wannabe WAG Jill Demirel (a big day for people with that surname, what with nutcase Turkish keeper Volkan getting himself sent off).
Mum-of-two Demirel claims she was dumped by Arsenal's Justin Hoyte, then slept with Tom Huddlestone of arch-rivals Spurs to make him jealous.
Her honest assessment of the venture: "I only done it to get back at Justin but it didn't work."
"[Hoyte] took me out for dinner and then a few days later we ended up having, er, sexual intercourse," Demirel stammered.
Realising that this was probably not the time to come over all coy with her terminology, Jill ploughed on and proceeded to dish the dirt using the now-familiar food-based measurement system.
Demirel's verdict on Hoyte: "He's incredibly well endowed - at least 12 inches [or one large garlic bread from Pizza Hut]."
And Huddlestone? "Chipolata."
It is nice to know that the hapless Hoyte has at least one talent worth writing home about, even if it is not as a footballer.
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QUOTE OF THE DAY: "Maybe I can call my old friend Slaven Bilic and ask him to play his mother-in-law as a striker against Poland." Leo Beenhakker clutches at straws as his side seek the two-goal win against Croatia that will give them any chance of reaching the quarter-finals.
THIS SEASON'S MUST-HAVE GARMENT: The t-shirt worn at Euro 2008 by peeved Polish fans saying: "Howard Webb - Cheater of the Year"
STAT OF THE DAY: Euro 2008 has been a tournament for the older gentleman. The competition began with only one teenager and now has none (Switzerland's Eren Derdiyok is now 20 and, perhaps more importantly, out).
It has also produced the three oldest goalscorers in European Championship history - Austria's Ivica Vastic (38), Jan Koller (35) and Christian Panucci (35)
The next most ancient was Portugal's Nene, who bagged the only goal against Romania in 1984 aged 34 and 213 days.
Look there's no point to this stat, other than to ensure that ED isn't entirely about breasts. OK?
TALKING POINT: Over 500 user comments on Friday's post yielded virtually nothing of any worth. Do you blame a) Early Doors; b) The readers; or c) Facebook.
Today - Turkey-Czech Republic: Best end to a match ever or can you think of a more raucously entertaining finish?
COMING UP: It is time to face facts. Even without England, the rest of Europe is perfectly capable of holding a football tournament without it being utter garbage.
Michel Platini was moved to describe Euro 2008, in suspiciously idiomatic English, as a "sizzler of a tournament."
And who is ED to disagree?