*We join MON who's been called for showdown talks with Randy Lerner*
Lerner: Maaaaarty! Long time no see, how's it hangin'?
MON: You're .... not mad about the 7-1?
Lerner: Ah seven one shmeven one. Hell so what if they scored a touchdown and conversion? That's football right?
MON: Well, not exac....
Lerner: Anyway you're hear about Jimmy Milner, I done had a "grrrrrrreat!" offer for him as Tony the tiger would say.
MON: I didn't realise you had Tony the tiger in America.
*Lerner looks confused*
Lerner: How'd you mean? I take Tony with me everywhere.
*Lerner points to an actual tiger*
Tony: How'd you do?
MON: Hi ... (turning back to Randy) You own a talking tiger?
Lerner: Son when you're a billionaire you can own whatever you like.
MON: right, anyway what was this about Milner.
Lerner: Right these guys are offering me millions for what I can imagine are a few photoshoots in speedos and with feather boas and stuff.
*MON looks sceptical*
MON: Boss are you su....
Lerner: I mean "Man United", you can bat for whatever side you want for the kind of money their offering.
MON: Sir, Man United is a football team not some publication for men of a certain persuasion.
Lerner: Nonsense Marty, it'll be the same as that deal with Barry for "Man City". You can't underestimate the power of the pink pound.
MON: Sir, Barry PLAYS for them now!
Lerner: He does? Gee I thought he had a homelife with kids and everything, go figure.
MON: No not for ... I give up.
*sources "close to Villa" get on the internet and radio on MON's resignation*
Wednesday 31 March 2010
Match 31: Post Chelsea
*We join the lads, heads hung low and glum after their heavy defeat against Chelsea, MON jovially enters whistling as he gets to the front of the room*
MON: Great stuff lads, brilliant, that went exactly as we'd planned.
*MON puts his hands on his hips, throws his head back and bursts out laughing maniacally.*
A.Young (whispering): This is terrible, we've sent him mad.
*A number of the lads fearfully nod*
MON: Excellent, I'm just glad you all got the memo.
Collins: Memo?
Carew: What memo?
MON: Very good you two, the memo, you know.
*MON shuffles the cursor on his laptop and it jumps into life, he clicks on his sent e-mails*
MON: Here we go. "Lets leave it to Chelsea lads, lure them into a false sense of security then strike in the F.A Cup semi-final" and might I say lads you executed the plan beautifully.
A.Young: Boss, I didn't get your e-mail.
*MON chuckles*
MON: Good one Ashley, you said you went to check your e-mails a few minutes before the match, I saw you get your laptop you little scamp.
A.Young: Yeah .... um ..... e-mails.
MON: And like I said before kick-off, "everyone don't forget to check out your e-mails".
Carew: E-mails? I thought you said check out the females.
Gabby: Yeah me too.
MON: Fema...? Why would I ...? So None of you got the memo? You just ... Lost?
Dunne: Aye bass, every goal was like a dagger to me backside.
MON: Don't you mean your heart?
Collins: Steady on boss, his heart's not that big.
*MON flips to a foul, four-letter word tirade which lasts for 40 minutes*
A.Young: Please boss, calm down, I don't think the last few sentances you yelled even made sense.
MON: Pound sign! Percentage! Asterix! Exclamation mark!
*MON Collapses in an exausted heap. He lays on his side heavy breathing like a dying animal*
Warnock: Boss..... Are you ... OK?
*MON raises a weak arm*
MON: Confound you to Hades!
*Carew and Gabby scan the room*
Carew: What ladies?
MON: Great stuff lads, brilliant, that went exactly as we'd planned.
*MON puts his hands on his hips, throws his head back and bursts out laughing maniacally.*
A.Young (whispering): This is terrible, we've sent him mad.
*A number of the lads fearfully nod*
MON: Excellent, I'm just glad you all got the memo.
Collins: Memo?
Carew: What memo?
MON: Very good you two, the memo, you know.
*MON shuffles the cursor on his laptop and it jumps into life, he clicks on his sent e-mails*
MON: Here we go. "Lets leave it to Chelsea lads, lure them into a false sense of security then strike in the F.A Cup semi-final" and might I say lads you executed the plan beautifully.
A.Young: Boss, I didn't get your e-mail.
*MON chuckles*
MON: Good one Ashley, you said you went to check your e-mails a few minutes before the match, I saw you get your laptop you little scamp.
A.Young: Yeah .... um ..... e-mails.
MON: And like I said before kick-off, "everyone don't forget to check out your e-mails".
Carew: E-mails? I thought you said check out the females.
Gabby: Yeah me too.
MON: Fema...? Why would I ...? So None of you got the memo? You just ... Lost?
Dunne: Aye bass, every goal was like a dagger to me backside.
MON: Don't you mean your heart?
Collins: Steady on boss, his heart's not that big.
*MON flips to a foul, four-letter word tirade which lasts for 40 minutes*
A.Young: Please boss, calm down, I don't think the last few sentances you yelled even made sense.
MON: Pound sign! Percentage! Asterix! Exclamation mark!
*MON Collapses in an exausted heap. He lays on his side heavy breathing like a dying animal*
Warnock: Boss..... Are you ... OK?
*MON raises a weak arm*
MON: Confound you to Hades!
*Carew and Gabby scan the room*
Carew: What ladies?
Saturday 27 March 2010
Match 31: Chelsea
*We join the lads gearing up for their game against Chelsea*
Gabby: ... and I said 'I don't even like celery!'
*The lads erupt with laughter*
MON: Alright lads settle down, right it's the warm up to the big semi, no tissues necessary Ashley.
*A.Young folds his arms and looks away with disgust as the lads all laugh at him*
MON: Sorry Ashley. Anyway with Dunne looking unlikely, Luke ... What in the world....
*Luke Young is in full cowboy gear, he slowly lifts his ten gallon hat and spits in a bucket*
L.Young: I done saw on that there Sky Sports News that with Dunne injured I'd be made deputy.
MON: You mean you'd 'deputise'
*L.Young removes his hat and begins taking off his cowboy garb*
L.Young: Oh. Balls.
MON: Yes, it's quite the injury crisis. Luke, centre back.
L.Young: Centre back but I was thinking that Carlos would ....
MON: Exactly! If that's what you think, that's what everyone will think. They won't know what's hit them with you in the middle and Carlos on the right.
L.Young: But...
MON: But nothing, in the Art of War Sun Tzu said 'Always mystify, mislead and surprise the enemy if possible'
*Gabby is nodding*
Gabby: It's true.
*The lads all turn and stare at Gabby*
Gabby: What? I read.
*The lads are still staring at Gabby*
Gabby: I read!
MON: Anyway imagine their surprise at my masterful tactics. This one's going to be a rout I tell you!
***Meanwhile in the Chelsea dressing room***
Ancelotti: I don't know much about this Martin O'Neill other than he is what us russians call 'insane'
Terry: insane's an english word boss.
Ancelotti: Is always England, England, England with you John. I would tell you 'take break' but the other players they say 'Keep John busy boss' and 'I love my wife boss'. Anyway, O'Neill will probably do something crazy like play all his defenders out of position so just harrass them and it will be what we call in Russia a 'rout'.
*Terry opens his mouth, then thinks better of remarking*
Gabby: ... and I said 'I don't even like celery!'
*The lads erupt with laughter*
MON: Alright lads settle down, right it's the warm up to the big semi, no tissues necessary Ashley.
*A.Young folds his arms and looks away with disgust as the lads all laugh at him*
MON: Sorry Ashley. Anyway with Dunne looking unlikely, Luke ... What in the world....
*Luke Young is in full cowboy gear, he slowly lifts his ten gallon hat and spits in a bucket*
L.Young: I done saw on that there Sky Sports News that with Dunne injured I'd be made deputy.
MON: You mean you'd 'deputise'
*L.Young removes his hat and begins taking off his cowboy garb*
L.Young: Oh. Balls.
MON: Yes, it's quite the injury crisis. Luke, centre back.
L.Young: Centre back but I was thinking that Carlos would ....
MON: Exactly! If that's what you think, that's what everyone will think. They won't know what's hit them with you in the middle and Carlos on the right.
L.Young: But...
MON: But nothing, in the Art of War Sun Tzu said 'Always mystify, mislead and surprise the enemy if possible'
*Gabby is nodding*
Gabby: It's true.
*The lads all turn and stare at Gabby*
Gabby: What? I read.
*The lads are still staring at Gabby*
Gabby: I read!
MON: Anyway imagine their surprise at my masterful tactics. This one's going to be a rout I tell you!
***Meanwhile in the Chelsea dressing room***
Ancelotti: I don't know much about this Martin O'Neill other than he is what us russians call 'insane'
Terry: insane's an english word boss.
Ancelotti: Is always England, England, England with you John. I would tell you 'take break' but the other players they say 'Keep John busy boss' and 'I love my wife boss'. Anyway, O'Neill will probably do something crazy like play all his defenders out of position so just harrass them and it will be what we call in Russia a 'rout'.
*Terry opens his mouth, then thinks better of remarking*
Thursday 25 March 2010
Match 30: Post Sunderland
*We join the lads indifferent after a draw with Sunderland, MON is wearing a black tie over his tracksuit jacket, his face is streaked with tears*
A.Young: Wow the boss is taking this really hard. Hey boss, you're not upset about the whole 'throwing it away in March' thing are you?
*MON is looking away, silent and solemn*
A.Young: I mean we're trying our best, aren't we guys?
*The lads all nod and audibly agree. MON's bowed head is unmoving*
A.Young: I know the defence aren't as stingy as they've been....
*Collins and Dunne flashback to a conversation before the game with Frazier Cambpell*
.....
Campbell: Hey guys, I know it's cheeky to ask but mind if I score a goal? I'm only young and trying to find my way in the game.
*Collins and Dunne look at each other then back at Campbell*
Cambell: I mean it's hard going, Darren scores all the goals. My mum and dad come to all my matches, they think I'm a goalkeeper!
*Campbell bursts into floods of tears, Dunne puts a comforting arm around him*
Dunne: OK dere buddy, but just tha' one.
*Dunne winks, Cambpell immediately stops crying and beams*
Campbell: Yay!
.....
MON: No,no, it's not that, it's Emile, his injury ... It's finished his career.
*The lads all gasp, MON raises a framed picture of a young, grinning Heskey in his Leicester strip*
Heskey: What? My career's not over. The physio said...
MON: Oh I'll never be able to put his sweet name on my team sheet again.
Heskey: I can play again boss, I'm fine.
MON: When they stretchered him off the pitch I knew that was that. No more Emile in the team, it's almost more than I can bear.
Heskey: I didn't get stretchered off, I just have a knock, look.
*Heskey vibrantly kicks the air and jogs on the spot*
MON: Oh how the Villa faithful will miss his flair and panache.
*Ashley Young pats Heskey on the back*
A.Young: It was nice playing you with you big fella.
Heskey: I'm not...
*Milner presents Heskey with a card, Heskey reads it*
Heskey: 'Sorry you had to RETIRE'?!
*The card is a comedy one with an old man changing the tyres on a broken down vintage car.*
Heskey: Wait, this is signed by everyone, how long have you had this?
MON: Sorry Emile.
*MON is now Sheperding Heskey out of the dressing room with an arm, Heskey is turned looking over his shoulder.*
Heskey: Hey ....I'm not finished guys .... I...
*The door is closed and Heskey is stood outside alone, he can hear Kool and the Gang's 'Celebration' begin to chime from the room, peering in he sees MON dad dancing, his tie now around his head and Nathan Delfouneso jigging on a table in a party hat.*
A.Young: Wow the boss is taking this really hard. Hey boss, you're not upset about the whole 'throwing it away in March' thing are you?
*MON is looking away, silent and solemn*
A.Young: I mean we're trying our best, aren't we guys?
*The lads all nod and audibly agree. MON's bowed head is unmoving*
A.Young: I know the defence aren't as stingy as they've been....
*Collins and Dunne flashback to a conversation before the game with Frazier Cambpell*
.....
Campbell: Hey guys, I know it's cheeky to ask but mind if I score a goal? I'm only young and trying to find my way in the game.
*Collins and Dunne look at each other then back at Campbell*
Cambell: I mean it's hard going, Darren scores all the goals. My mum and dad come to all my matches, they think I'm a goalkeeper!
*Campbell bursts into floods of tears, Dunne puts a comforting arm around him*
Dunne: OK dere buddy, but just tha' one.
*Dunne winks, Cambpell immediately stops crying and beams*
Campbell: Yay!
.....
MON: No,no, it's not that, it's Emile, his injury ... It's finished his career.
*The lads all gasp, MON raises a framed picture of a young, grinning Heskey in his Leicester strip*
Heskey: What? My career's not over. The physio said...
MON: Oh I'll never be able to put his sweet name on my team sheet again.
Heskey: I can play again boss, I'm fine.
MON: When they stretchered him off the pitch I knew that was that. No more Emile in the team, it's almost more than I can bear.
Heskey: I didn't get stretchered off, I just have a knock, look.
*Heskey vibrantly kicks the air and jogs on the spot*
MON: Oh how the Villa faithful will miss his flair and panache.
*Ashley Young pats Heskey on the back*
A.Young: It was nice playing you with you big fella.
Heskey: I'm not...
*Milner presents Heskey with a card, Heskey reads it*
Heskey: 'Sorry you had to RETIRE'?!
*The card is a comedy one with an old man changing the tyres on a broken down vintage car.*
Heskey: Wait, this is signed by everyone, how long have you had this?
MON: Sorry Emile.
*MON is now Sheperding Heskey out of the dressing room with an arm, Heskey is turned looking over his shoulder.*
Heskey: Hey ....I'm not finished guys .... I...
*The door is closed and Heskey is stood outside alone, he can hear Kool and the Gang's 'Celebration' begin to chime from the room, peering in he sees MON dad dancing, his tie now around his head and Nathan Delfouneso jigging on a table in a party hat.*
Wednesday 24 March 2010
Match 30: Sunderland
*We join John Carew and Gabriel Agbonlahor approaching the dressing room before the match against Sunderland, they're much earlier than usual*
Gabby: I like goals.
Carew: I know Gabby, I know.
Gabby: Yeah ..... Like when you kick it in and the crowd goes 'Yay!'
Carew: Yeah, yeah. That's nice, sometimes I just like to relax out there too you know? Watch a game go by but it's is pretty cool to score.
Gabby: ... and you're all like 'Yippee!' and they're all like 'you're the daddy!' and you're like 'Again?'
*Carew looks confused*
Carew: O...K
*The lads can hear singing from the dressing room as they approach it.*
Heskey: Emile Heskey, Heskey. He's bigger than you or me, he's gonna score two or three, Em Heskey, Heskey!
Gabby: Is that Emile?
Carew: He's nicking my song!
*Gabby and Carew hurry to the doors, as they enter Heskey scrambles to screw a piece of paper in his hand into a ball and tidy away a subbuteo set*
Gabby: Wow subbuteo! Can I play?
Heskey: er... No the games over, sorry.
Gabby: That's OK we can start a new one.
*Gabby unfolds the pitch which was covering most of the players, he scans the the selection of Sunderland and Aston Villa figures, then gasps with horror*
Gabby: My legs!?
*The Gabby subbuteo player has had the base and legs broken off, Gabby touches his actual legs to confirm that they are intact*
Heskey: Yeah.... I ..... You're injured.
Carew: And what injury is it that I have!?
*Carew picks up his figure, only identifiable by the 'Carew 10' on the back .... The head has been removed*
Heskey: I .... Um.....
*Carew snatches the ball of paper from Heskey, shaking his head whilst lifting the Heskey player which literally has the ball glued to it's feet.*
Carew: And whats this ... The score?..... Aston Villa 8 - Sunderland 3? ...... You scored all our goals, won man of the match? ..... And .... I scored an Own Goal Hatrick!?
Heskey: You had a tough time out there, you're playing injured.
*Gabby holds up a dictaphone*
Gabby: What's this?
*Gabby presses play, the 'Em Heskey, Heskey' chant comes to an end, the tape continues*
Dictaphone-Heskey (with a commentator's voice): And can anyone stop Heskey? He's cutting through the Sunderland defence like a hot knife through butter.
*Carew and Gabby look sceptically at Heskey*
Heskey: What? His words not mine.
Dictaphone-Heskey (with a high pitched/ girl's voice): We love you Emile!
Dictaphone-Heskey (with a gruff, burly voice): You're useless Carew, absolutely useless!
*Gabby and Carew look at Heskey, eyebrows raised*
Heskey: What? You can't argue with the fans they ARE the club.
*MON enters the dressing room he's cleaning his glasses*
MON: Right Emile so are we ready to finish our preview of the mat..... Gabriel? John? .... You're .... Early.
Gabby: I like goals.
Carew: I know Gabby, I know.
Gabby: Yeah ..... Like when you kick it in and the crowd goes 'Yay!'
Carew: Yeah, yeah. That's nice, sometimes I just like to relax out there too you know? Watch a game go by but it's is pretty cool to score.
Gabby: ... and you're all like 'Yippee!' and they're all like 'you're the daddy!' and you're like 'Again?'
*Carew looks confused*
Carew: O...K
*The lads can hear singing from the dressing room as they approach it.*
Heskey: Emile Heskey, Heskey. He's bigger than you or me, he's gonna score two or three, Em Heskey, Heskey!
Gabby: Is that Emile?
Carew: He's nicking my song!
*Gabby and Carew hurry to the doors, as they enter Heskey scrambles to screw a piece of paper in his hand into a ball and tidy away a subbuteo set*
Gabby: Wow subbuteo! Can I play?
Heskey: er... No the games over, sorry.
Gabby: That's OK we can start a new one.
*Gabby unfolds the pitch which was covering most of the players, he scans the the selection of Sunderland and Aston Villa figures, then gasps with horror*
Gabby: My legs!?
*The Gabby subbuteo player has had the base and legs broken off, Gabby touches his actual legs to confirm that they are intact*
Heskey: Yeah.... I ..... You're injured.
Carew: And what injury is it that I have!?
*Carew picks up his figure, only identifiable by the 'Carew 10' on the back .... The head has been removed*
Heskey: I .... Um.....
*Carew snatches the ball of paper from Heskey, shaking his head whilst lifting the Heskey player which literally has the ball glued to it's feet.*
Carew: And whats this ... The score?..... Aston Villa 8 - Sunderland 3? ...... You scored all our goals, won man of the match? ..... And .... I scored an Own Goal Hatrick!?
Heskey: You had a tough time out there, you're playing injured.
*Gabby holds up a dictaphone*
Gabby: What's this?
*Gabby presses play, the 'Em Heskey, Heskey' chant comes to an end, the tape continues*
Dictaphone-Heskey (with a commentator's voice): And can anyone stop Heskey? He's cutting through the Sunderland defence like a hot knife through butter.
*Carew and Gabby look sceptically at Heskey*
Heskey: What? His words not mine.
Dictaphone-Heskey (with a high pitched/ girl's voice): We love you Emile!
Dictaphone-Heskey (with a gruff, burly voice): You're useless Carew, absolutely useless!
*Gabby and Carew look at Heskey, eyebrows raised*
Heskey: What? You can't argue with the fans they ARE the club.
*MON enters the dressing room he's cleaning his glasses*
MON: Right Emile so are we ready to finish our preview of the mat..... Gabriel? John? .... You're .... Early.
Monday 22 March 2010
Match 29: Post Wolves
*We join John Carew who has been called for a meeting with MON after the draw with Wolves*
MON: Hi John,
Carew: Hi boss.
MON: Take a seat. Look, people are questioning whether you were offside for your two goals.
Carew: What? Even after the referreeing decisions at the league cup final?
MON: Yeah I know, I said that, ridiculous. But nonetheless football is a 'business' now, so like a business if you are seen to flagging in an area you must be re-trained.
Carew: Re-trained? But I score goals, well when I feel like it I do.
MON: Don't worry John, it won't be anything intensive just a bit of offside training, we'll be adopting the 'explaining offside to your girlfriend' method.
Carew: What's that?
*MON pushes forward a number of random items on his desk.*
MON: OK John, now you are this 1979 European Cup winners medal. The one I almost single handedly won.
Carew: O...K
MON: and the salt is a defender.
*MON holds up a salt shaker, Fabian Delph sticks his head around the door*
Delph: Assault a defender?!
MON: No Fabian.
*Delph groans and hangs his head.*
MON: Hang on, what's that in your hands?
Delph: This? It's Kevin Doyle's leg, Stilyan thought I might like it.
MON: Fabian! Give that back to Kevin at once! Right, what was I saying? Salt, last defender .... Oh ... John imagine my glasses case is Ashley Young.
Carew: Hi Ashley. How are you? Thanks for setting me up with that cross and....
MON: No, I mean just that it's a player and he has the ball.
Carew: Right.
MON: now if he plays you ... the medal ... (that I won) the ball when you're past the salt....
Carew: Here you go boss.
*Carew hands MON the salt*
MON: No, no I don't want the salt.
Carew: Why did you ask for it then?
MON: I didn't, I was just .... Forget it! Just score goals out there.
Carew: Right you are boss.
*Carew stands up to leave*
MON: Oh and don't forget your certificate.
*MON hands Carew a certificate*
Carew: A GNVQ in offside?
MON: Congratulations.
MON: Hi John,
Carew: Hi boss.
MON: Take a seat. Look, people are questioning whether you were offside for your two goals.
Carew: What? Even after the referreeing decisions at the league cup final?
MON: Yeah I know, I said that, ridiculous. But nonetheless football is a 'business' now, so like a business if you are seen to flagging in an area you must be re-trained.
Carew: Re-trained? But I score goals, well when I feel like it I do.
MON: Don't worry John, it won't be anything intensive just a bit of offside training, we'll be adopting the 'explaining offside to your girlfriend' method.
Carew: What's that?
*MON pushes forward a number of random items on his desk.*
MON: OK John, now you are this 1979 European Cup winners medal. The one I almost single handedly won.
Carew: O...K
MON: and the salt is a defender.
*MON holds up a salt shaker, Fabian Delph sticks his head around the door*
Delph: Assault a defender?!
MON: No Fabian.
*Delph groans and hangs his head.*
MON: Hang on, what's that in your hands?
Delph: This? It's Kevin Doyle's leg, Stilyan thought I might like it.
MON: Fabian! Give that back to Kevin at once! Right, what was I saying? Salt, last defender .... Oh ... John imagine my glasses case is Ashley Young.
Carew: Hi Ashley. How are you? Thanks for setting me up with that cross and....
MON: No, I mean just that it's a player and he has the ball.
Carew: Right.
MON: now if he plays you ... the medal ... (that I won) the ball when you're past the salt....
Carew: Here you go boss.
*Carew hands MON the salt*
MON: No, no I don't want the salt.
Carew: Why did you ask for it then?
MON: I didn't, I was just .... Forget it! Just score goals out there.
Carew: Right you are boss.
*Carew stands up to leave*
MON: Oh and don't forget your certificate.
*MON hands Carew a certificate*
Carew: A GNVQ in offside?
MON: Congratulations.
Friday 19 March 2010
Match 29: Wolverhampton Wanderers
*We join the lads preparing to play Wolves.*
MON: OK lads OK, lets calm down. Now the March hoo-doo has been dealt with I expect us to 'march' on to triumph!
*MON pauses for a laugh. There isn't one*
Carew: Boooooooo!
MON: Boo!? Did someone boo my joke?
*The lads all point at Heskey, MON cuts him an icy stare*
Heskey: What!? It wasn't .... I mean I didn't ... erm..... I wasn't booing I said 'Boorilliant'...... I was doing a Black Country accent.... Because we're playing Wolves.
MON: Oh... Right. Anyway, against Wolves these two are the pair we're really going to have to look out for.
*MON extends a telescopic pointer and taps on two pictures on the board. Ashley Young points to the first*
A.Young: Who's that?
MON: Who's that? It's Steve Bull! "Bully", look at him there with his cheeky smile.
A.Young: Who?
MON: Steve Bull, you know Wolves player, played for England, great striker.
A.Young: Never heard of him.
MON: That's because he has what few players have nowadays. Loyalty, like Alan Shearer he didn't wander to one of the 'big teams' for glory.
Collins: So basically they were scared of the challenge and failure?
*MON points the pointer at Collins*
MON: Bingo.
Milner: and who's tha other wun like?
MON: This? This is Noddy Holder.
Milner: Does he play football like?
MON: Heavens no, their players aren't going to be a threat, I just thought I'd give you something to look for out there when you're tired of giving Wolves a hiding.
*MON pauses again*
Carew: Boooo!
MON: Thankyou. Now people have questioned whether I will rotate the team like I said I would. First team, stand up.
*The familiar first team line-up stand up*
MON: Now turn 180 degrees.
*They all turn, Gabby is spinning in circles like dog chasing it's tail, Heskey takes considerably longer to make the turn*
MON: And again.
*They all turn again facing MON once more*
MON: And sit. Rotation complete.
MON: OK lads OK, lets calm down. Now the March hoo-doo has been dealt with I expect us to 'march' on to triumph!
*MON pauses for a laugh. There isn't one*
Carew: Boooooooo!
MON: Boo!? Did someone boo my joke?
*The lads all point at Heskey, MON cuts him an icy stare*
Heskey: What!? It wasn't .... I mean I didn't ... erm..... I wasn't booing I said 'Boorilliant'...... I was doing a Black Country accent.... Because we're playing Wolves.
MON: Oh... Right. Anyway, against Wolves these two are the pair we're really going to have to look out for.
*MON extends a telescopic pointer and taps on two pictures on the board. Ashley Young points to the first*
A.Young: Who's that?
MON: Who's that? It's Steve Bull! "Bully", look at him there with his cheeky smile.
A.Young: Who?
MON: Steve Bull, you know Wolves player, played for England, great striker.
A.Young: Never heard of him.
MON: That's because he has what few players have nowadays. Loyalty, like Alan Shearer he didn't wander to one of the 'big teams' for glory.
Collins: So basically they were scared of the challenge and failure?
*MON points the pointer at Collins*
MON: Bingo.
Milner: and who's tha other wun like?
MON: This? This is Noddy Holder.
Milner: Does he play football like?
MON: Heavens no, their players aren't going to be a threat, I just thought I'd give you something to look for out there when you're tired of giving Wolves a hiding.
*MON pauses again*
Carew: Boooo!
MON: Thankyou. Now people have questioned whether I will rotate the team like I said I would. First team, stand up.
*The familiar first team line-up stand up*
MON: Now turn 180 degrees.
*They all turn, Gabby is spinning in circles like dog chasing it's tail, Heskey takes considerably longer to make the turn*
MON: And again.
*They all turn again facing MON once more*
MON: And sit. Rotation complete.
Match 28: Post Wigan
*We join the lads celebrating victory over Wigan, MON is pelvic thrusting with gusto at the front of the room*
MON: Oh Yeah! A league win in March! How do you like me now!? In your face Robbo, and you said we'd never win in March!
Robertson: Martin, I said no such....
MON: In your face! Now James where are you? What a cracking goal, brilliant, world class, genius....
Milner: Well thanks boss, I just found the space, picked me spot and hit it like.
MON: What? I'm not talking to you, where is he? Where's James McCarthy the lovely man?
Dunne: He doesn't play for us bass, he's a Wigan man.
MON: Come again? But he hammered it home beautifully.
Collin: Yeah, own goal, happens to the best of us, well the best of us and James McCarthy.
*The Dressing Room erupts with laughter*
MON: Wigan eh...?
*MON flips through a notepad with 'SUMMER' written on the front, he comes to a page titled 'GOAL PROBLEM?' underneath it he writes 'JAMES MCCARTHY - WIGAN (better even than Emile?)'
MON: ..... and British is he?
Dunne: Aye Boss, he was born in Scotland.
MON: Excellent.
*MON underlines his name on the notepad*
Dunne: But he plays for Ireland.
MON: Ah, Double british!
*MON underlines his name again*
MON: Which Ireland? The better one?
Dunne: Yeah bass.
MON: Ah from my neck of the woods eh? Great stuff it's good to see the motherland producing such talent.
Dunne: Wait.... I thought you meant....
*Fabian Delph interrupts Dunne, tugging at his shirt*
Delph: Great game Mr.Dunne sir.
Dunne: Thanks bud!
Delph: Yellow card ..... Nice.
Dunne: It's not like I enjoy getting cards.
*Delph raises an eyebrow at Dunne*
Dunne: 'right, maybe I do a bit.
*Dunne and Delph discuss their all time favourite bookings and dismissals*
Delph: ....and I was like 'Pow!' and he was like 'My spleen! My beautiful spleen!' then the ref was like 'you, Delph, off' and I was like 'What!? I didn't even see him there!' then the ref was all 'You're still standing on him!'
MON: So.... No goals again John?
*Carew barely raises his eybrows above the book he's reading*
Carew: Huh?
MON: Goals?
Carew: Oh, Nah not today.
MON: I....um.... OK.
MON: Oh Yeah! A league win in March! How do you like me now!? In your face Robbo, and you said we'd never win in March!
Robertson: Martin, I said no such....
MON: In your face! Now James where are you? What a cracking goal, brilliant, world class, genius....
Milner: Well thanks boss, I just found the space, picked me spot and hit it like.
MON: What? I'm not talking to you, where is he? Where's James McCarthy the lovely man?
Dunne: He doesn't play for us bass, he's a Wigan man.
MON: Come again? But he hammered it home beautifully.
Collin: Yeah, own goal, happens to the best of us, well the best of us and James McCarthy.
*The Dressing Room erupts with laughter*
MON: Wigan eh...?
*MON flips through a notepad with 'SUMMER' written on the front, he comes to a page titled 'GOAL PROBLEM?' underneath it he writes 'JAMES MCCARTHY - WIGAN (better even than Emile?)'
MON: ..... and British is he?
Dunne: Aye Boss, he was born in Scotland.
MON: Excellent.
*MON underlines his name on the notepad*
Dunne: But he plays for Ireland.
MON: Ah, Double british!
*MON underlines his name again*
MON: Which Ireland? The better one?
Dunne: Yeah bass.
MON: Ah from my neck of the woods eh? Great stuff it's good to see the motherland producing such talent.
Dunne: Wait.... I thought you meant....
*Fabian Delph interrupts Dunne, tugging at his shirt*
Delph: Great game Mr.Dunne sir.
Dunne: Thanks bud!
Delph: Yellow card ..... Nice.
Dunne: It's not like I enjoy getting cards.
*Delph raises an eyebrow at Dunne*
Dunne: 'right, maybe I do a bit.
*Dunne and Delph discuss their all time favourite bookings and dismissals*
Delph: ....and I was like 'Pow!' and he was like 'My spleen! My beautiful spleen!' then the ref was like 'you, Delph, off' and I was like 'What!? I didn't even see him there!' then the ref was all 'You're still standing on him!'
MON: So.... No goals again John?
*Carew barely raises his eybrows above the book he's reading*
Carew: Huh?
MON: Goals?
Carew: Oh, Nah not today.
MON: I....um.... OK.
Tuesday 16 March 2010
Match 28: Pre Wigan Athletic
*We join the lads preparing to play Wigan*
MON: Alright lads settle down, settle down. Now it's normally the way that a striker returning to his old club is bound to score against them. Unfortunately for us the player returning is Emile.
*The dressing room erupts with laughter*
MON: .... Where is Emile?
*Ashley Young raises his hand*
A.Young: He went off with his banjo boss, said something about seeing a farm on the way here.
MON: Right.
*Heskey arrives with a pristine banjo*
MON: Ah Emile, glad you could join us.
Heskey: You know you'd be surprised how agile cows actually are.
MON: Quite. Now it's revenge time, these fellas beat us on the first day of the season, the fans raised questions about me. Me! Martin O'Neill! Can you believe that? I mean have I ever told you I've won the european cup!?
A.Young: Yeah you tell us every week boss.
MON: Tell you what?
Downing: That you won tha European Cup like.
MON: That's right, I won it, so don't you forget it.
Carew: It's hard to forget when you make us wear these shirts when we're not playing.
*holds up one of the lads T-Shirts with 'Martin O'Neill European Cup Winner '79 & '80' and a picture below of a young Martin hands aloft in a Notts Forest kit*
MON: Fine shirts, fine shirts and John nobody's forcing you to wear them.
Collins: It's in our contracts!
MON: Enough about how much you love to wear my t-shirts. Defence there's every chance you'll come up against Jason Scotland tonight so if you're struggling to make a clearance, pass it to him.
*The defence chuckle*
Heskey: Ah It'll be nice to see Jason again.
MON: Yes, it's obvious he's reaping the benefits from your expert tutelage.
*The dressing room erupts with laughter*
MON: Alright lads settle down, settle down. Now it's normally the way that a striker returning to his old club is bound to score against them. Unfortunately for us the player returning is Emile.
*The dressing room erupts with laughter*
MON: .... Where is Emile?
*Ashley Young raises his hand*
A.Young: He went off with his banjo boss, said something about seeing a farm on the way here.
MON: Right.
*Heskey arrives with a pristine banjo*
MON: Ah Emile, glad you could join us.
Heskey: You know you'd be surprised how agile cows actually are.
MON: Quite. Now it's revenge time, these fellas beat us on the first day of the season, the fans raised questions about me. Me! Martin O'Neill! Can you believe that? I mean have I ever told you I've won the european cup!?
A.Young: Yeah you tell us every week boss.
MON: Tell you what?
Downing: That you won tha European Cup like.
MON: That's right, I won it, so don't you forget it.
Carew: It's hard to forget when you make us wear these shirts when we're not playing.
*holds up one of the lads T-Shirts with 'Martin O'Neill European Cup Winner '79 & '80' and a picture below of a young Martin hands aloft in a Notts Forest kit*
MON: Fine shirts, fine shirts and John nobody's forcing you to wear them.
Collins: It's in our contracts!
MON: Enough about how much you love to wear my t-shirts. Defence there's every chance you'll come up against Jason Scotland tonight so if you're struggling to make a clearance, pass it to him.
*The defence chuckle*
Heskey: Ah It'll be nice to see Jason again.
MON: Yes, it's obvious he's reaping the benefits from your expert tutelage.
*The dressing room erupts with laughter*
Monday 15 March 2010
Match 27: Post Stoke City
*We join the lads mulling over their 0-0 draw against Stoke, MON is celebrating like he's won the world cup*
MON: Yippee!!
*Milner whispers to Ashley Young*
Milner: Why's the boss celebrating like that man?
A.Young: Because it's the middle of March and we've not lost yet.
*MON immediately stops celebrating and his face contorts with rage*
MON: Who said it!? Who said the name of the month I said was never to be said in the dressing room!?
*The lads all sheepishly point at Heskey*
Heskey: What!? I didn't ... I mean.... It wasn't.
MON: Emile! A man of your age and discernable lack of striking ability should know better.
Heskey: Don't put me on the chair boss, please, I didn't even say "March".
MON: That's it! "Funny man" are you!? Do I need to remind you what happened to Nigel!?
.....
*Nigel Reo-Coker is handcuffed to a radiator in a dank room somewhere in bodymoor heath, there appears to be nothing in the room but a saw, tears are streaming down his face*
NRC: I only suggested that we play a right back at right back.
.....
Heskey: Sorry boss.
MON: As this is a day for celebration I'll show mercy Emile but know this....
*MON points to his eyes with two fingers then at Heskey with them*
MON: Anyway, OK game lads, we couldn't possibly be expected to win with that wind.
Gabby: Sorry boss, don't think my stomach's right yet.
MON: No, I mean, nevermind. John where were the goals?
*Carew doesn't look up from filing his nails*
Carew: Nah, not today.
MON: I ... um .... OK.
MON: Yippee!!
*Milner whispers to Ashley Young*
Milner: Why's the boss celebrating like that man?
A.Young: Because it's the middle of March and we've not lost yet.
*MON immediately stops celebrating and his face contorts with rage*
MON: Who said it!? Who said the name of the month I said was never to be said in the dressing room!?
*The lads all sheepishly point at Heskey*
Heskey: What!? I didn't ... I mean.... It wasn't.
MON: Emile! A man of your age and discernable lack of striking ability should know better.
Heskey: Don't put me on the chair boss, please, I didn't even say "March".
MON: That's it! "Funny man" are you!? Do I need to remind you what happened to Nigel!?
.....
*Nigel Reo-Coker is handcuffed to a radiator in a dank room somewhere in bodymoor heath, there appears to be nothing in the room but a saw, tears are streaming down his face*
NRC: I only suggested that we play a right back at right back.
.....
Heskey: Sorry boss.
MON: As this is a day for celebration I'll show mercy Emile but know this....
*MON points to his eyes with two fingers then at Heskey with them*
MON: Anyway, OK game lads, we couldn't possibly be expected to win with that wind.
Gabby: Sorry boss, don't think my stomach's right yet.
MON: No, I mean, nevermind. John where were the goals?
*Carew doesn't look up from filing his nails*
Carew: Nah, not today.
MON: I ... um .... OK.
Saturday 13 March 2010
Match 27: Stoke City
*We join the lads preparing for their match against Stoke City*
MON: Right lads we're going to need to defend like lions here I ..... Hang on, where are all the defenders?
*The lads look all around, there are no defenders to be seen, the song 'Blame it on the Boogie' can be heard approaching the dressing room from the hall.*
MON: What the devil?
*The door bursts open and Luke Young, James Collins, Richard Dunne and Stephen Warnock stride in, Collins is holding a large portable radio*
L.Young: Don't you blame it on the sunshine...
Collins: Don't blame it on the moonlight....
Dunne: We're flying without wings .... I mean ... Damn it!...
Warnock: Blame it on the boogie!
*Delph stands*
Delph: I just can't control my feet!
*Delph boots Sidwell in the shins, Sidwell screams loudly.*
Warnock: Hey nice catching the lyrics there Fabian.
Delph: What lyrics?
MON: Enough of this tomfoolery! James switch that ghetto blaster off at once.
Collins: My what boss?
*The dressing room erupts with laughter as Collins turns off the stereo*
MON: Now what is all this? Why are you four dressed as the Jackson 5!?
*MON eyes the defenders from their flares to their unfeasibly large afros, Collins is combing out his ginger mane*
Collins: You said we'd have to match Rory Delap's 'fro boss.
MON: Yes I said you have to match Delap's throw.
*the defender's point to their ''fros'*
MON: His LONG throw!
Warnock: Our 'fros are pretty long.
*MON is now seething*
MON: No! His....
*Carlos Cuellar strolls in*
Cuellar: Och, sorry I'm late boss.
MON: Carlos I thought better of you, joining this rabble and dressing as a member of the Jackson 5 and with that ridiculous hair!
Cuellar: Dressing as who? This is what I wear every week?
MON: Right lads we're going to need to defend like lions here I ..... Hang on, where are all the defenders?
*The lads look all around, there are no defenders to be seen, the song 'Blame it on the Boogie' can be heard approaching the dressing room from the hall.*
MON: What the devil?
*The door bursts open and Luke Young, James Collins, Richard Dunne and Stephen Warnock stride in, Collins is holding a large portable radio*
L.Young: Don't you blame it on the sunshine...
Collins: Don't blame it on the moonlight....
Dunne: We're flying without wings .... I mean ... Damn it!...
Warnock: Blame it on the boogie!
*Delph stands*
Delph: I just can't control my feet!
*Delph boots Sidwell in the shins, Sidwell screams loudly.*
Warnock: Hey nice catching the lyrics there Fabian.
Delph: What lyrics?
MON: Enough of this tomfoolery! James switch that ghetto blaster off at once.
Collins: My what boss?
*The dressing room erupts with laughter as Collins turns off the stereo*
MON: Now what is all this? Why are you four dressed as the Jackson 5!?
*MON eyes the defenders from their flares to their unfeasibly large afros, Collins is combing out his ginger mane*
Collins: You said we'd have to match Rory Delap's 'fro boss.
MON: Yes I said you have to match Delap's throw.
*the defender's point to their ''fros'*
MON: His LONG throw!
Warnock: Our 'fros are pretty long.
*MON is now seething*
MON: No! His....
*Carlos Cuellar strolls in*
Cuellar: Och, sorry I'm late boss.
MON: Carlos I thought better of you, joining this rabble and dressing as a member of the Jackson 5 and with that ridiculous hair!
Cuellar: Dressing as who? This is what I wear every week?
Monday 8 March 2010
F.A Cup: Post Reading F.C
*We join the lads rejoicing after their 4-2 victory over Reading. Most of them are cleaning tea off the walls and sweeping up broken china from half-time.*
MON: See lads, that wasn't so hard was it?
*MON packs away his blow torch, Gabby emerges from the toilets*
Gabby: Is it over? How'd you guys get on?
A.Young: We won Gabby, but why didn't you play?
Gabby: I'm no good at reading.
A.Young: Reading? What's that got to do with ...... Oh, we weren't "reading"... like books Gab.
Carew: I was reading the defenders like books.
*The dressing room erupts with laughter*
MON (wiping a tear away): Oh John when you're not totally disrespecting the team and everything it stands for with lacklustre, disinterested performances you're amazing.
Carew: Well, you know me.
*Carew shrugs his shoulders with an amusing frown, everyone hugs him whilst laughing*
All the lads: We love you John.
Carew: Yeah, yeah I know.
Heskey: What about me? I had a hand in every goal and won us possession about 90% of the time out there.
*Heskey grins widely whilst holding his arms out for a "team hug"*
MON: Sssssh Emile, look John's flexing his biceps.
Carew: Oh Yeah! check out the gun show!
*The lads ignore Heskey and are applauding and whooping the "show"*
Heskey: I mean I know I didn't score but I....
MON: Emile! Now that's enough out of you! Sit on the "No Goal" chair!
Heskey: But...
MON: Chair!
*Heskey saunters over to a chair facing the wall which crudely has "No Goals" written on the back, He slumps into it, folds his arms and kicks the wall*
Heskey: Stupid Carew and his stupid goals I should...
MON: What are you mumbling over there Emile!?
Heskey: Nothing boss!
MON: See lads, that wasn't so hard was it?
*MON packs away his blow torch, Gabby emerges from the toilets*
Gabby: Is it over? How'd you guys get on?
A.Young: We won Gabby, but why didn't you play?
Gabby: I'm no good at reading.
A.Young: Reading? What's that got to do with ...... Oh, we weren't "reading"... like books Gab.
Carew: I was reading the defenders like books.
*The dressing room erupts with laughter*
MON (wiping a tear away): Oh John when you're not totally disrespecting the team and everything it stands for with lacklustre, disinterested performances you're amazing.
Carew: Well, you know me.
*Carew shrugs his shoulders with an amusing frown, everyone hugs him whilst laughing*
All the lads: We love you John.
Carew: Yeah, yeah I know.
Heskey: What about me? I had a hand in every goal and won us possession about 90% of the time out there.
*Heskey grins widely whilst holding his arms out for a "team hug"*
MON: Sssssh Emile, look John's flexing his biceps.
Carew: Oh Yeah! check out the gun show!
*The lads ignore Heskey and are applauding and whooping the "show"*
Heskey: I mean I know I didn't score but I....
MON: Emile! Now that's enough out of you! Sit on the "No Goal" chair!
Heskey: But...
MON: Chair!
*Heskey saunters over to a chair facing the wall which crudely has "No Goals" written on the back, He slumps into it, folds his arms and kicks the wall*
Heskey: Stupid Carew and his stupid goals I should...
MON: What are you mumbling over there Emile!?
Heskey: Nothing boss!
Monday 1 March 2010
Post Carling Cup Final
*We join the lads glum after their narrow defeat in the final*
MON: I want to see chins up lads, you're all champions to me and the fans out there!
Gabby: Does that mean we get the cup boss?
MON: No Gabriel.
*Gabby frowns then removes a large bag of pears from his shorts and sets them on a table, the lads look at each other confused*
Gabby: Well, that didn't work then.
MON: Gabriel, why did you bring a bag of pears on the pitch?
Gabby: I was watching Match of the Day before we went out and Alan Shearer said 'The real threat to Man United will be Agbonlahor's pears'
MON: Pace Gabriel, pace. It's just his regional accent.
*Gabby looks confused*
Gabby: Accent? I thought you had to be english to play for England?
MON: Gabriel he's .... Ah nevermind. Anyway lads I can only apologise, I had concentrated so much of our pre-match preperation on Wayne Rooney I hadn't even considered Manchester United's most potent threat. Phil Dowd.
Dunne: He was just everywhere on the pitch bass, unplayable.
MON: I know Richard, I know. He's a quite a talent.
*The door knocks, MON opens the door to Sir Alex Ferguson and Phil Dowd arm in arm Ferguson with the Carling Cup full of champagne, Dowd is holding the bottle.*
MON: Hi Sir Alex congrat....
SAF: That's Sir Alex!
MON: I said ...
SAF: Don't interrupt when I'm talkin' ta ye I'm a sir! Anyway ... What was I saying?
Dowd: Woooooooo! United! .... er .... I mean Wooooooo! Unbiased fairness!
SAF: Aye that was it, I thought you might want to congratulate me and Phil.
MON: I just tried to con ....
SAF: Will ya stop interruptin' me Martin'?
MON: You'd stopped talking Sir Alex. Besides why would I congratulate Phil Dowd?
Dowd: I got Man of the Match. Can I celebrate now Mr.Sir Alex sir?
SAF: Yes, dance .... The Charleston.
*Phil Dowd dances the Charleston on the spot whilst constantly looking for Ferguson's approval, MON closes the door.*
-----------
Hello all, I usually don't put my own opinions on these things but I thought I'd just say I was proud of the lads on Sunday, we played some decent football and never looked in awe of what was a big game, on a big stage, against one of the biggest teams in the world. Of course for us Villa fans the match may have been a little tainted by some bad referreeing decisions but we're a relatively young team and a lesson to take out of the final was if life gives you lemons, use your pears. Anyway ...... We're getting there. U.T.V!
MON: I want to see chins up lads, you're all champions to me and the fans out there!
Gabby: Does that mean we get the cup boss?
MON: No Gabriel.
*Gabby frowns then removes a large bag of pears from his shorts and sets them on a table, the lads look at each other confused*
Gabby: Well, that didn't work then.
MON: Gabriel, why did you bring a bag of pears on the pitch?
Gabby: I was watching Match of the Day before we went out and Alan Shearer said 'The real threat to Man United will be Agbonlahor's pears'
MON: Pace Gabriel, pace. It's just his regional accent.
*Gabby looks confused*
Gabby: Accent? I thought you had to be english to play for England?
MON: Gabriel he's .... Ah nevermind. Anyway lads I can only apologise, I had concentrated so much of our pre-match preperation on Wayne Rooney I hadn't even considered Manchester United's most potent threat. Phil Dowd.
Dunne: He was just everywhere on the pitch bass, unplayable.
MON: I know Richard, I know. He's a quite a talent.
*The door knocks, MON opens the door to Sir Alex Ferguson and Phil Dowd arm in arm Ferguson with the Carling Cup full of champagne, Dowd is holding the bottle.*
MON: Hi Sir Alex congrat....
SAF: That's Sir Alex!
MON: I said ...
SAF: Don't interrupt when I'm talkin' ta ye I'm a sir! Anyway ... What was I saying?
Dowd: Woooooooo! United! .... er .... I mean Wooooooo! Unbiased fairness!
SAF: Aye that was it, I thought you might want to congratulate me and Phil.
MON: I just tried to con ....
SAF: Will ya stop interruptin' me Martin'?
MON: You'd stopped talking Sir Alex. Besides why would I congratulate Phil Dowd?
Dowd: I got Man of the Match. Can I celebrate now Mr.Sir Alex sir?
SAF: Yes, dance .... The Charleston.
*Phil Dowd dances the Charleston on the spot whilst constantly looking for Ferguson's approval, MON closes the door.*
-----------
Hello all, I usually don't put my own opinions on these things but I thought I'd just say I was proud of the lads on Sunday, we played some decent football and never looked in awe of what was a big game, on a big stage, against one of the biggest teams in the world. Of course for us Villa fans the match may have been a little tainted by some bad referreeing decisions but we're a relatively young team and a lesson to take out of the final was if life gives you lemons, use your pears. Anyway ...... We're getting there. U.T.V!
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