Scottish Comedy FC has acquired the rights to an upcoming best-seller – “The Secret Assistant Manager” – which will tell you what really happens inside Scottish football.
The author has asked us to keep his identity a secret but he continues to tell it straight from the main man’s mouth, or, technically, straight from the assistant to the main man’s mouth to our correspondent Andy Todd, all about the next chapter of a remarkable 143-year-old story that has spanned the ages.
Hiya Internet Pals,
Certain fans have accused the Greatest Team in History of arrogance. How dare they?!? We don’t call ourselves the Greatest Team in History just because of all the titles we’ve won, we’re also the best at being modest.
Was it arrogant to throw a party before this week’s Scottish Cup Final? No! Was it arrogant that the party celebrated our guaranteed cup final win? No. The party was just good financial sense. The Chairman said we wouldn’t get a table booking on Saturday night so we should celebrate on Tuesday morning. He’s so wise!
So, on Tuesday morning, the Chairman took all the lads to Krispy Kreme and said we could have a donut each. I was worried. There were 12 donuts in a box but we only had 11 players. What would happen to the spare? Luckily, the Boss had thought of this. He had a surprise – he’d signed a new pal!
Best day ever! Donuts (well, a donut) and a new pal.
My new pal is a young lad who the Boss described as “the new Stevie Gerrard”. I asked if that was because the lad was a skilled midfielder able to hit short or long passes with either foot; or was it because the lad worked tirelessly box to box and was equally adept defending and attacking; or was it because he was cleared of an assault charge? It was none of these. The Boss said it was because the lad was from Liverpool which is just the same as Stevie G. He’ll be brilliant.
After my donut I popped back to our World Class Training Facilities to count cones. A Secret Assistant Manager’s job is never done – a Secret Assistant Manager has to always check the lads have returned them safely after training. Sometimes the lads steal the cones.
I once found the Goalie placing one on his head before shouting “Look at me, I’m Gandalf!”. The Old Striker took two and stuck them on his chest before shouting “Look at me, I’m Madonna. Vogue!”. I can’t repeat what the Captain shouted after I found him sticking a cone on his groin.
However, when I was looking for the cones I noticed some movement: there was someone lurking in the bushes! They were trying to cut through the fence with wire cutters. They were trying to break in!
How daft is that, pals? The Chairman always makes sure we don’t leave any valuables at the World Class Training Facilities, in fact, he even checks every night for any coins lost behind the sofa in the players’ lounge so that nothing is left behind. He’s so thorough!
I shouted “Hey you, what do you think you’re doing and have you seen any cones in the bush?”
But as soon as he heard me he ran off. I phoned the Boss to tell him what had happened.
“That was our new signing checking out our World Class Training Facilities,” he said.
“But he was breaking in,” I said.
“That’s because he’s, well, I can’t tell you who he is yet, but I can say he’s a real bad boy.”
“We’re signing Will Smith?”
Later that day I bumped into the Boss at the golf course. I tried to get him to reveal more. He wouldn’t tell me who the new pal was but he did give me some clues.
“He’s a huge twitter star but sometime gets a bit controversial,” said the Boss, “and some people want to give him a slap.”
“Is it Piers Morgan?”
“No! He’s from Liverpool?”
“Is it Jimmy Tarbuck?”
“No. He’s a central midfielder who’s played for England and being accused of assault.”
“Is it the old Stevie Gerrard?”
“No. I’ve said too much. You’ll just have to wait and see!”
Then the Boss and his golf partner Joey Barton left. Oooh, I can’t wait to see my new pal. I wonder who it could be?
The Secret Assistant Manager
P.S. with the Cup Final on Saturday this is my penultimate column, which means next week will be my ULTIMATE column – see you then, pals… with the Scottish Cup trophy