It hurts, doesn't it?

There can barely be a man alive who doesn’t feel a bit of sympathy for Danny Cipriani; he had his hands (figuratively and literally) on Kelly Brook, but he somehow let her slip through his fingers. There can barely be a more crushing feeling than letting a genuine grade ‘A’ five star classical beauty – one that just about every man in Britain would gladly crawl over a bed of nails, used syringes and broken glass just to cop a feel of, to boot – slide from your grasp. It must seriously hurt.

Which is why we can understand why right now all he wants to do is get rip-roaringly drunk and bore his mates stupid talking about her, while desperately trying to speak to her and ‘patch things up’. It’s not exactly dignified, but as Amy Winehouse once said, love is a losing game. It’s a shame however, that someone who shared shots with him at London nightclub Aura went straight to The Mirror to blab about it. It’s a seedy, nasty world out there, readers.

‘Danny was extremely drunk and was supping to forget,’ said the traitor. To the tabloid. ‘He was with a few of the rugby boys who were all trying to ply him with alcohol and cheer him up.

‘But Danny was having none of it and spent hours on his phone, messaging Kelly, telling everyone he needed to speak to her. The players were telling him to give it a rest but he was adamant.’

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