“Sorry Becs, run that by me again. The News of the World are going to run what tomorrow……”
Our Chief Press Officer reveals a Southend girl is pregnant and anyone of four of my lads could be the father…….I needed no further clues as to the identity of the four potential fathers. The following morning a walk to the shops revealed the true horror, no hiding on page 23 for this one, front and centre stage.
Lindsey met Butra, Adolfo, Jose Cano and Agustin on a night out and according to her ‘one thing led to another’….to me it was more one cock led to another but no matter.
Chairman Ron called, predictably found it all hilarious ‘what a set of lads eh, be half Spanish this taaaaann soon,’ I knew I had to sort it quickly so drove into the ground and summoned them.
The smiles, the charm, the shrugs. They weren’t bothered in the slightest though rather surprisingly Agustin confirmed it couldn’t have been him. That night he enjoyed the things most men rarely get or indeed never get, always the quiet ones.
With a reluctant shrug that they would step up should they find out the truth I sent them on their way and went back to the tactics.
Because the headlines had distracted me from a furious bust-up with Chris Morgan, my captain and my lieutenant.
We’d changed tactics mid-season in a bid to push for the Premier League and while goals were flying in at the one end, Morgs and O’Shea were working twice as hard at the other end.
A free-scoring November included a 7–3 over Portsmouth, a game hailed by Rodney Marsh on Soccer Saturday as the ‘best entertainment in years’ together with decent attendances in our new 12,900 all-seater Roots Hall convinced me to keep with the new tactic.
However the mood soured after we threw away a 2–0 lead at Southampton and then fell to a 2–3 loss at home to Ipswich. While some of the fans were entertained, a number saw the league table and realised the Premier League was within touching distance.
Among their number was Captain Morgan, after I’d spoke in the dressing room post Ipswich I surveyed the scene. I knew something was coming, he’d gone unusually quiet.
“Is that it,” he said. “IS THAT FUCKING IT.”
I turned to see my captain, stark bollock naked about to deliver what I assumed some Yorkshire ‘shock and awe’.
“Have you lost your fucking minds, it’s all well and good to entertain an tha’ but we could be promoted here and we’re pissing it up t’chuffin wall.”
I thought about pointing out it was only two defeats but sensed my skipper wasn’t done.
“It’s alright for some of you, fuckin come in shag your way round Southend and fuck off again but I wanna play Premier League football,” said Captain Morgan, balls swinging as he yelled.
“I don’t wanna hear any excuses, fuck the board, fuck the TV and if any of you fuckers disagree then fuck you all as well. Summat needs to change I tell thee”
I called out “Morgs…..” his response used every swear word in what appeared to be in a full sentence. Impressive!
He skulked off to the showers, I intimated everyone should follow and slipped away to my office.
As I sat in there some 24 hours later, the same bloody News of the World article still in front of me I wondered what to do, cave and I lose authority, stick to my guns and we risk tossing this away.
Beep, beep, beep, beep. It was Captain Morgan….
“Boss, I’m sorry for going against ya. I felt summat needed to be said but you’re the gaffer, I’ll back whatever you decide. Morgs.”
Suddenly it was clear, yes I could change tact because here was a skipper who’d stand by me.
“No worries skipper, took big balls to stand up and say it, granted they aint as big as Masudi’s but big all the same! See ya tomorrow Captain.”
10pm on Sunday night, another can of Soop polished off meant another night on my office sofa.
Ding, ding…an e-mail
“Hi, you don’t know me but this Lindsay sort isn’t telling the truth. If her dates am right then they aren’t the daddy……my mysterious e-mailer wrote.
They attached a Pornhub link, purporting to be around the time Lindsay became pregnant.
Entitled ‘He Scores When He Wants’ I clicked on the link. After much groaning and panting, the video pans up to the face of her lover………….Meysam fucking Javan!
