Hiya Internet Pals,
Would you like to know the hardest part of building a new ‘Greatest Team In History”? It’s not winning matches, that’s easy. In fact, its so easy, this week we gave our closest rivals our best player from last season just so we have a challenge next time we meet. By the end of the season, our team will consist of just the Boss and your pal, the Secret Assistant Manager, and I bet we’ll still win every game we play – there’s no stopping the ‘Greatest Team In History’!
However, the hardest part of building the new team is winning with style. And, for that, we need the players to bond so that they play as one team, but it’s really hard to get them to talk never mind play together.
Some of our players only have a rudimentary grasp of the English language. Take the Captain. He’s from Edinburgh and he really struggles with big words. Last week I tried to make him say Hibernian but all he could say was “c**ts”. This week I tried to make him say Celtic but he couldn’t stop laughing. Luckily he does his talking on the pitch. Unluckily, four children in the family stand heard what he said. They now have free tickets for life. Sadly, the mental images will never fade. I still don’t know how a sheep would fit up there?! Or that Captain Haddock could stretch that far with no clothes on?! The mind boggles.
The Captain’s not our worst speaker. Some of the foreign lads have no English at all. Normally we’d hire a translator to help but, when I asked the Chairman for money, he said “No. Football is the same in all languages. All they need to know is “pass”, “tackle” and “send off the dirty cheating b*****d, ref”.
What a wise man. It was almost like he was on the pitch with me when I was Captain of this great club (ooh, a bit of clue there for my internet pals trying to work out who I am – you’ll never guess!).
Back to the team building. On Monday, the Boss prepared a bonding exercise for the lads.
“Yer mum loves a bonding exercise!” Says the Captain. I ignore him and hand out plasticine putty to every player.
The Boss says: “I want everyone to take this plasticine and mould it into an image of how you want to see yourself in 12 months time. Will you be lifting the Cup? Winning the league? Tell us your dreams – and then we’ll discuss how we can make it a reality!”
I look at the Goalie He picks up his plasticine and moulds it into a cap, which he then puts on his head.
“Look at me – I’m playing for England!” The cap falls off. He tries to catch it. He misses. Sigh. I look at the Captain. He eats his plasticine. Then burps. Sigh.
I turn to our new London teenagers. We bought them last week and I don’t understand a word they say. They speak a language that I’d never heard before – it’s called ‘street’. The teens snigger and hide their putty behind their backs.
“What’s going on?” I say.
They look at me blankly.
“Show me what you’ve done?”
Still no response. I try again using hip cool street lingo.
“WWWWWAAAAaaaaaSSSSSSSSuupppPPP?”
“Yo bruv, kotch man, ” says the first. We call him The Artful Dodger. Not only is he an artful dodger on the park but, after he sang the praises of the club in the press, he’s helped the Boss take more teenagers off the London streets than Fagin.
“Fo shu!” Says his pal, Fo Sho. We call him Fo Sho because it’s all he ever says.
I try again.
“WWWWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaSSSSSSSSuuuuuuuuuuuuupppPPPPPPPP?”
“Granddad – this task is flat roofin, innit!”” Says Dodger.
“Fo sho!” Says Fo Sho.
I’ve got no idea what they’re saying. I motion for them to hand over their plasticine. They both snigger before revealing they’ve created a giant wrinkled plasticine cock and balls.
“Is it Roy Hodgson?” Asks the Goalie, squinting.
I look at it. I’m not happy. This is not a club for cocks. Just ask the former board. I’m about to shout at them and give them what for when the Boss comes over.
“Well done, lads, ” he says, “you’ve worked together to make that. That means you’re well on the way to becoming a proper team!”
“Fo Sho?” Queries Fo Sho.
“Fo Sho!” Says the Boss.
“C**ts!” says the Captain.
I say nothing. Sometimes, pals, its like what the great Ronan Keating once said: “You say it best, when you say nothing at all”. What a legend.
Yer Pal,
The Secret Assistant Manager
As told to Andy Todd
He’s a part-time comedian and in 2014, he supported Eddie Izzard in ‘Please Don’t Go’, Izzard’s show about Scottish independence and worked with BBC Radio Scotland as a weekly guest on Referendum Tonight.
