A mock tudor mansion, Hertfordshire, Sunday evening. Pizza boxes, empty bottles of whiskey, a pair of P45s, two gold watches and a copy of Shaving Ryan's Privates litter the huge, horrible glass table in the middle of the room. In one corner, next to a picture of himself, a fat, bald, Scottish Man plays with a huge computer screen. He can't to get it work. He's getting angry. Tucking his shirt in, he headbutts the side of it over and over again to no result. Then, what appears to be a rug made from the hide of a full silverback gorilla groans and lifts its head above the sofa. "Andy, for fucks sake, I've told you before. Just smash it…"
The Premier League took a bow, son, this weekend. Imagine how gutted the pair of pillocks recently sacked were that they weren't a part of it….
La Liga might be the best league in the world in a technical sense, and Germany might lead the way in how to treat fans, but when the Premier League dishes up a weekend of upsets, thrillers, hat-tricks, sendings-off and general blood, thunder, muck and bullets, it is surely the most exciting.
Arsenal fans will trudge into work this morning facing the Tottenham inquisition about Arsene Wenger’s inability to spend money on a goalkeeper and centre-half, United fans will have to listen to Citeh fans crowing about Carlos Tevez’s latest masterclass in the arts of striking, Baggies supporters will be goaded by their gold and black neighbours about the loss of a manager and the potential hiring of Roy Hodgson, the city of Liverpool will throb with chest out fans decked in red and blue. And Chelsea fans will have to reflect on being a laughing stock for having a Torres banner with the SHANKLY GATES on it. You couldn’t make it up.
The computer screen has crackled into life, but the tactics software refuses to work. Shaving Ryan’s Privates is playing and yes, you guessed it, AG and RK and hanging out the back of it.
Imagine how much of a tool that bloke feels. So keen to taunt Liverpool over the signing of Torres that he copied the banner seen at Anfield. It’s so fucking stupid and new money that you can barely laugh. Liverpool may have just left it too late to have a serious pop at Champions League qualification, but Dalglish has answered any questions about whether he was tactically astute enough to survive in the modern game. 3-5-2? Who saw that coming?
Fergie will be worried that his side were out-fought by Wolves and that Rooney and Berbatov appeared as shadows of the marauding front-pair who tormented Birmingham, Arsene Wenger probably thinks Arsenal won 4-0, such is his inability to ‘see it’, David Moyes is probably, as you read, wrapping Louis Saha in cotton wool, Dalglish will be drawing up a list of potential targets for the summer. Avram Grant must surely hear the sharpening of the guillotine, Ian Holloway the prick of his own sword as it edges further from his tangerine-coloured scabbard towards his stomach. What a fucking brilliant weekend of football.
Except, of course, in Hertfordshire. As we cut back to the scene in the living room. The computer screen has crackled into life, but the tactics software refuses to work. Shaving Ryan’s Privates is playing and yes, you guessed it, AG and RK and hanging out the back of it.
Neither are surprised at the others seamless ability to slide into a miniscule USB port.
Click here for more Football and Sport stories
Click here to follow Sabotage Times on Twitter
Click here to follow Sabotage Times on Facebook