You've probably already seen it plastered all over your various social media feeds this morning, but today is the 20 year anniversary of one of the greatest and most famous appearances in football history.
Nope, I'm not talking about Maradona in the 1986 World Cup, breaking English hearts with the infamous 'Hand of God'. I'm not talking about Roy Keane's heroics to take Manchester United past an unbelievable Juventus side and into the Champions League final. I'm not talking about Dietmar Hamann coming off the bench to completely nullify Andrea Pirlo and lead Liverpool to their fifth European title in Istanbul.
I am, of course, talking about Ali Dia's historic 53-minute-long substitute appearance for Southampton on November 23rd, 1996.
Dia, making his first and only Premier League appearance
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Since Dia managed to wangle his way into a Premier League shirt by getting one of his mates to pretend to be George Weah and recommend him to then Southampton manager Graeme Souness over the phone, he has become something of a cult hero.
When I heard it was coming up to the 20th anniversary of the event I just had to try to get in touch with Dia, who I was told was living somewhere in the Newcastle area. So I did just that.
I won't go into details, but I managed to track down the Premier League legend and asked if I could have a quick chat with him and ask some questions for an article. He said he doesn't really do interviews, but as it's been exactly 20 years he would be happy to send me his diary from his time at Southampton, which he religiously scribbled paragraphs into during his short stay with the Saints.
Below are some exclusive extracts from his diary which, until now, have only been read by Dia himself and a couple of people in my office. You are about to take a glimpse into history, so strap in...
The Ali Dia-ries
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"Friday 22nd November, 1996
It's the day before game day. I'm not sure how it's got to this point, but in 24 hours time I could become the first Senegalese international ever to play in the Premier League. It would have been Arsenal's new signing Patrick Vieira, had he not bottled it and chosen to represent those cheese eating surrender monkeys France. Although having said that, I've never played for the mighty Lions either. I almost believe my own lies sometimes. The manager here, Graeme Souness, thinks I've got 13 caps. Which isn't actually a lie, I just haven't told him they all say 'NY' on them.
I've only met Graeme face to face once as he's spent most of the week away on a scouting mission, which I imagine is code for a golfing holiday or adultery. Anyway, I've stuck to my plan all week in training and tried to live up to my new nickname in front of the other coaches. I told the lads everyone back home calls me 'The African Gary Lineker', and yesterday Ken Monkou actually called me it, the gullible idiot.
Basically, I've just stood by the goal and kicked it in from a couple of yards out all week. Egil Østenstad keeps calling me 'goal hanger', which I can only assume is Norwegian for 'The African Gary Lineker.'
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We had to do a passing drill at one stage, which isn't my strength, so I went for a coffee and came back when it was time for 5-a-side. No one noticed. Honestly, you can get away with anything here."
Graeme Souness thinking about who else's cousin he can sign
"Saturday 23rd November, 1996, 8:54am
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I'm just chilling in my room with Jim Magilton, watching a re-run of Top of the Pops on a brand new 12'' Hitachi Fastext television. This is the life. The Prodigy are currently number one with 'Breathe'. I hope they play this in the dressing room later because it's a real fistpumper. I sent our minibar flying last night when it came on.
The floor is still absolutely covered in Castelmaine and dry roasted peanuts and Jim keeps telling me to clean it up, but I'm just pretending my English isn't so good. Anyway, I'm off for some breakfast and to meet up with the rest of the squad."
George Weah's cousin
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"Saturday 23rd November, 1996, 7:16pm
Well that didn't go to plan. 32 minutes in, Matt Le Tissier came off injured and I was thrown on. Just a couple of minutes in, I got the ball out wide on the right hand side of the area and side footed it straight at the fucking keeper. Other than that, I barely got a kick - besides the one the gaffer gave me after the game. He brought me off after 85 minutes for a defender. I wouldn't have really minded but we were losing 2-0 at the time.
As I left the changing rooms Graeme collared me again. He said it was the worst performance he'd seen since Michael Jackson at the Brit Awards a few months earlier. He's told me not to report for training on Monday. "If your cousin, George Weah, thought you'd be the definition of a good buy, I'd hate to see his wife's face on her birthday," he said.
To make matters worse, I'm writing this sat in a Little Chef, at a service station on the M27. I've done a runner from the hotel and I still haven't cleaned the peanuts up off the floor. I didn't even get my appearance bonus after the game because apparently if you play like an Ostrich on ecstasy then you don't qualify for it. Damn small print.
All in all I'm still pretty pleased with myself. There can't be too many players who've pulled this off. Other than that Frank Lampard guy who's just coming through at West Ham. That lad won't make it - he's a complete fraud."
Words by: @WeahsCousin and @Tdhntr
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