DoDTS
The PL League Boss⭐⭐
A SHRIMPER CHRISTMAS CAROL
It was in the offices of Southend united after the Huddersfield match, Paul Brush-Cratchett and his son Tiny Tilly approached Uncle Ronald to ask about time off at Christmas. “Humbug” retorted Ronald I want you two and the team in training all over Christmas. Uncle Ronald retired still fuming over the poor display, when he heard the clanking of chains, and a ghost appeared before him. “Who the **** are you?” asked Ronald, “I am the ghost of David Jack an England International and former manager of Southend United, and who the **** are you to say who the **** am I”. “why are you haunting me?” said Uncle Ronald. “To show you the error of your ways” replied Mr Jack “you still have time to change. You will be visited by three ghosts before the morning” and with that he disappeared.
Uncle Ronald pulled up the sheets and dozed but was woken by a ghost. “Who are you” quivered Ronald. “I am the ghost of Kursaal past” replied the ghost and whisked him back in time to the 1931-32. season. Southend were top of the League and there were happy smiling faces everywhere. Jimmy Shankley had just scored a hattrick against Crapton Orient, and the fans were saying things like “well played Southend” and “jolly good show Shankley” the ground was full and the finances were good. I never knew life could be so good said Uncle Ronald but then he found himself back in his bed.
He was awoken again by another ghost “I am the ghost of Roots Hall present” said the ghost, and whisked Ronald off to the Spread Eagle, a gloomy establishment home to many a football zombie. it was not a happy place, a lot of drink was being consumer and comments like “Bad Show Martin” and “jolly poor show Southend” especially from the leader, an intimidating man named Crickson with raffle tickets lurking out of every pocket. Ronald looked on in dismay, his dreams in tatters but then he again found himself back in his bed.
He was awoken yet again by another ghost “I am the ghost of Fossetts future” said the ghost “sh*t said Ronald I fear you more than any other", the ghost whisked Ronald off to the future, to a concrete jungle, that looked more like a war zone, with fans fighting all over the place, arrests and vandalism. “Sorry Ron” said the Ghost “ I took a wrong turning this is the New Den not Fossets Farm” and whisked him off to the promised land of Fossetts where everyone had smiling faces, comments like “good show Southend” with burgers sticking out of their mouths, and a constant flow of cash going from their pockets to the club.
Ronald woke yet again, but now it was morning and he hadn’t missed Christmas after all, he opened his window and a small boy was passing wearing a yellow away shirt with ”Ldnfatso” on the back. “You Boy” called Uncle Ronald, here’s a fiver I want you to go out and buy the biggest fattest centre forward you can find and keep the change. He then rushed round to Brush-Cratchett house where poor Tiny Tilley was just being refused any more porridge, Ronald rushed in and said this is going to be the best Christmas ever!
Apologies to Mr Charles Dickens, Mr Ronald Martin, Mr Albert Crickson and Mr Ldn-Fasto, no offence was meant to any off them.
It was in the offices of Southend united after the Huddersfield match, Paul Brush-Cratchett and his son Tiny Tilly approached Uncle Ronald to ask about time off at Christmas. “Humbug” retorted Ronald I want you two and the team in training all over Christmas. Uncle Ronald retired still fuming over the poor display, when he heard the clanking of chains, and a ghost appeared before him. “Who the **** are you?” asked Ronald, “I am the ghost of David Jack an England International and former manager of Southend United, and who the **** are you to say who the **** am I”. “why are you haunting me?” said Uncle Ronald. “To show you the error of your ways” replied Mr Jack “you still have time to change. You will be visited by three ghosts before the morning” and with that he disappeared.
Uncle Ronald pulled up the sheets and dozed but was woken by a ghost. “Who are you” quivered Ronald. “I am the ghost of Kursaal past” replied the ghost and whisked him back in time to the 1931-32. season. Southend were top of the League and there were happy smiling faces everywhere. Jimmy Shankley had just scored a hattrick against Crapton Orient, and the fans were saying things like “well played Southend” and “jolly good show Shankley” the ground was full and the finances were good. I never knew life could be so good said Uncle Ronald but then he found himself back in his bed.
He was awoken again by another ghost “I am the ghost of Roots Hall present” said the ghost, and whisked Ronald off to the Spread Eagle, a gloomy establishment home to many a football zombie. it was not a happy place, a lot of drink was being consumer and comments like “Bad Show Martin” and “jolly poor show Southend” especially from the leader, an intimidating man named Crickson with raffle tickets lurking out of every pocket. Ronald looked on in dismay, his dreams in tatters but then he again found himself back in his bed.
He was awoken yet again by another ghost “I am the ghost of Fossetts future” said the ghost “sh*t said Ronald I fear you more than any other", the ghost whisked Ronald off to the future, to a concrete jungle, that looked more like a war zone, with fans fighting all over the place, arrests and vandalism. “Sorry Ron” said the Ghost “ I took a wrong turning this is the New Den not Fossets Farm” and whisked him off to the promised land of Fossetts where everyone had smiling faces, comments like “good show Southend” with burgers sticking out of their mouths, and a constant flow of cash going from their pockets to the club.
Ronald woke yet again, but now it was morning and he hadn’t missed Christmas after all, he opened his window and a small boy was passing wearing a yellow away shirt with ”Ldnfatso” on the back. “You Boy” called Uncle Ronald, here’s a fiver I want you to go out and buy the biggest fattest centre forward you can find and keep the change. He then rushed round to Brush-Cratchett house where poor Tiny Tilley was just being refused any more porridge, Ronald rushed in and said this is going to be the best Christmas ever!
Apologies to Mr Charles Dickens, Mr Ronald Martin, Mr Albert Crickson and Mr Ldn-Fasto, no offence was meant to any off them.
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