Who needs another Brazilian winger when we have Topuria?

Hey, let's not start queuing for the bailiffs yet—Olympiacos didn't send a scout in a souvlaki wrapper, did they? Show me a single Greek newspaper clipping or a manager quote before we cash out the Popcorn fund on Topuria’s relocation package.

yeah nah mate they already got the MONSTER right here in georgia no need for another pacy lad to run from his own shadow 😤 look at him in paris he stood toe to toe with the whole PSG squad and made damn sure nobody thought georgia was just some tiny fig leaf on the fight card

Olympiacos aren’t exactly known for splash signings in January—you’re talking about a club that just lost Kostas Tsimikas to Liverpool for peanuts and has been bleeding players for years because the Greek FA keeps inventing new financial rules every Tuesday. Scouting Topuria makes sense on paper, but the logistics? Not so much. He’s 25, he’s hitting his prime, and our €100m buyout is still intact because nobody in Georgia’s willing to outbid the European heavyweights—his current deal runs until 2027, with a €120m release if you want him next summer. Olympiacos would need to cough up his release clause now, which they won’t, and even if they did, the wage bill alone would have the FFP auditors crying in the locker room. Plus, Topuria’s already entrenched as our No. 1 at 145lbs, and a move to the Super League would mean stepping into a league where the average attendance at a “big” game is smaller than a Luton pub crowd. Context matters—Topuria’s not some journeyman happy to pad his stats in Greece; he’s built for the biggest stages, and clubs lining up for him will be the ones who can actually stage a title race. As for Cabral or Todibo, spare me the panic. Topuria isn’t going anywhere this window, and if he did, it’d take at least €150m+ just to pry him away. We need a monster in midfield, sure, but let’s not mistake desperation for vision—Topuria’s our monster, and the numbers back it.

Topuria stepped up again last week when our boy went toe-to-toe with Edson Alvarez in Mexico City—never once blinked, and that’s the difference between a fighter and a flight risk. As for Cabral or Todibo? Spare change compared to what Topuria brings to the table every Saturday. Mind you, I was at the dinner last month where the lads sat round the table haggling over transfer funds, and one thing’s clear—we need that midfield anchor more than another Brazilian winger running the channels.

Topuria stood in that rain-soaked ring in Paris like a house brick glued to the canvas—PSG’s whole attack came at him in waves and the bloke just kept drilling back, jaw set, gloves tight. Where’s your Brazilian winger going to do that on a souvlaki table top, eh?

So you reckon Topuria’s standing in a ring is only good for selling Georgia as a tourist poster? Alright, that’s cute—until the lights go out and the French press start throwing flicks like they’re rehearsing a breakdance troupe. Tell me, when did physicality ever become synonymous with not being pacy? Because if I squint at the tape, that Paris performance reads less “brick” and more “precision Swiss watch” slicing through every probing pass like it was filmed in slow-motion by a bloke sipping ouzo on a beach somewhere. And spare us the midfield-brass-tacks soapbox. You want a monster in the engine room? How about the bloke who just dismantled Alvarez in front of 85,000 hostile lungs south of the border? A midfielder who can stand his ground is gold; one who can do it while the whole stadium tries to blow the roof off? That’s the sort of glue you tattoo on your ribs. As for Cabral and Todibo—spare change? Well, fine, buy both and park them on the bench next to the pineapple-shaped doorstop, because Topuria isn’t leaving this cycle without a knockdown argument in his own contract. The man’s built like he’s chiselled from the Caucasus itself, and you’re here haggling over souvlaki scraps while the European heavyweights are already lining up for the main course.

look at last month's highlights when that little portuguese outfit with the shiny shirts had three of their lads trying to gang up on him, midfield to midfield, like they'd read some dodgy tactics sheet online. Topuria didn't just stand his ground—he rolled them like a snowball down a hill, ended up cooking three chances on the break because the poor sods couldn’t breathe for five seconds straight after trying to body him up. Where’s that Brazilian winger going to find breathing space in the middle when he’s five foot eight and the midfield marshmallow next to him thinks a shoulder charge is a tactical substitution? You ever see the bloke check his shoulder three times before the ball’s even reached his feet? That’s not “precision Swiss watch,” that’s the quiet confidence of a lad who knows every scramble ends with him eating the bones while the others lick the plate. As for the Alain Caret stuff, sure he’s got that slick left foot and the crowd loves a run, but give me the man who makes the heroics look easy over the man who makes the highlight reel but can’t close a tackle if it walked up and signed in blood. We need monsters, not mascots.

Yo lads, caught Topuria’s old man dropping wisdom at the gym last week—dude was banging on about how Ilia’s first amateur bout back in 2014 was straight-up street brawl with no refs, got decked twice but came back to smash the bloke in the third. Classic Tbilisi grit—no frills, no highlights, just a lad who refuses to back down whether he’s four stone lighter or standing in Paris with PSG’s front three eating his jabs for breakfast. You think we need another pacy lad who can’t take a grapple in the pocket? Course not—we’ve got a man built from that same mould, just polished to a bloody shine.

you remember back in 2018 when the red-hot rumour had city running round the block for a certain georgian sensation straight out of akhalkalaki’s backstreets only to watch the whole thing evaporate like that dodgy shawarma at half-time in the olympic? or 2021, when the weekend papers swore up and down that some spanish pretender had his pen poised over ilia’s new contract—only for us to wake up and find the bloke still chopping wood in tbilisi with that permanent smirk on his dial? time will tell indeed, lads, but one thing never changes: topuria’s roots run deeper than any transfer tattle you’ll spin this winter.