Manchester United... We're Doomed

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TobeyJames

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Manchester United Lose Ferguson To Arthritis

Manchester United fans could be heard sobbing into their tissues as news was released that the Wiley Scot had called time on his illustrious career with the club. Ferguson who seemed to have a fascination for big shiny cups, leaves due to his Arthritis. Fergie admitted that he just couldn't cope with pointing and waving his arms around like a looney anymore. He also admitted that he never really liked Malcolm Glazer and thought that he was a sweaty ginger *****, who only wanted the club to rape it of it's money. Ferguson did however add that he will be looking forward to his weekends now where he'll be sat in his pants with a beer and of course some chewing gum watching Sky Sports, the Man Utd games and playing Fifa. He even added that at home he would be able to kick boots at his players!

Goodbye Fergie

United Install Skeeven Sneed As New Manager

Malcolm Glazer has today announced that young Ukranian manager Skeeven Sneed will replace the departing Ferguson. Sneed has a huge reputation in Ukraine and even managed to get his sons Under 8's team promoted to the above division. This huge feat was enough for Malcolm Glazer to act fast and ensnare his man. Glazer admitted that he was shocked to get his man with such ease and was seen jumping for joy when the deal was confirmed. Malcolm Glazer even laid on a private jet to fly his new man back to England but was shocked to learn that Sneed is afraid of flying after having watched the film Airplane at a young age. Glazer flew back alone while Sneed had the luxury of a 22 hour coach journey. Plenty of time for him to learn about the Red Devils...


This Story Will Be From Skeeven's point of view...

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I didn't get much sleep on my journey even if the coach was of a luxury standard. I was told by Glazer that I was to watch Man Utd DVD's and understand the club a bit better. It was good and I even got to see a guy called Eric kung-fu some guy in the face. It got a bit dull though when players like Kleberson and Djemba-Djemba were signed. I must admit I switched off and started watching mine and my son's favourite programme... Pokemon. After I'd watched a few episodes I thought I'd better ring the wife and let her know how it's going. Her names Helga and she is to remain in Ukraine so our son Manki can stay in a settled educational environment. Basically he's thick as Rhino **** and he'd be an embarassment to have in England. After the call I switched back to my United DVD's but switched off after watching some guy called Berbatov waltz around the pitch with the ball. It was about as exciting as opening and closing the curtains over and over again.

I arrived at Carrington Training Ground around 8 o'clock after hardly a wink of sleep and probably could have made a better impression. I was zonked out on the bed as the coach pulled in and was unaware of the journalists pointing their camera's into the coach. I was wearing nothing but my Carmen Electra boxer shorts.

I got changed and after Malcolm Glazer quickly met me and we whizzed inside the complex. He asked me what I thought of the DVD to which I nervously said yes very good, I liked it, nodding my head ferociously. He glanced at me in a weirded out kind of way before leading me towards the dressing room.

We entered and there was a sudden silence. Glazer shushed the players and bellowed for them to shut the **** up. They all looked like scolded children which reminded me of managing my son's under 8's football team. Glazer introduced me and then left me with my team. I recognised some from the DVD there was that little ginger man who could never tackle, he looked shy and reserved like a little lost puppy. There was another I remember from the DVD the one with the hairy chest who swings his shirt around his head. The first player to approach me spoke in such a weird dialogue I could only guess that he was from outer Mongola with his thick foreign accent. I nodded and just agreed with him in the hope he'd move on quickly. I wanted to know who he was as I hadn't seen him on the DVD and as he turned around I caught a glimpse of his Jersey... Rooney it said on the back.

Another player to welcome me was a chap who called himself Chicharito, he smiled and was so cute I could have put him in my pocket and taken him home with me. He told me that in his homeland Chicharito means something that sounded like little Pig.

After enjoying a few pleasentries I decided that this was enough and that I wanted to see the team train. I lead them out to the training ground and told them all to pick a partner. This always worked with the kids back in Ukraine. There was one player left out and all alone without a partner, he told me his name was Macheda. I asked why no one wanted to be with him and a few players shouted out that it's because he was ****... I thought to myself for a few seconds, ****? I then walked up to him and walked him off the pitch. I apologised and told him not to come back. I don't need **** players. I ran back to the other players clapping my hands gleefully and told them the good news. They looked shocked and after were all extremely nice to me.

A man called Mike Phelan approached me and asked if I was ok. I told him that I was a bit tired and could do with a deck chair to sit in with one of those megaphones to bark out my orders. I also told him to wear a wig whenever he is near me as I have a phopia of bald men ever since I was egged nearly everyday as a child.

Come the end of the day I was pooped and starting to lose interest in the squad. Luckily I was now in my deck chair relaxing and playing Angry Birds. I was told by a player called Nanny that it was time to go home as it was getting dark. I grabbed my coat and said see you tomorrow to the squad before jumping back into the coach which was to take me to my new home. On the way to my new abode I saw that Macheda bloke who I was told was **** trying to blag a lift by someone as he walked down the side of the road. I instructed my driver to drive up close to him so I could apologise to him and tell him there were no hard feelings. As the coach drove close though the wheels whizzed through a puddle and the poor bloke got soaked. I **** myself and shouted for the driver to drive, drive, drive!

Finally I got home and after a long day I went to bed, after watching some more Pokemon.

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I asked why no one wanted to be with him and a few players shouted out that it's because he was ****... I thought to myself for a few seconds, ****? I then walked up to him and walked him off the pitch. I apologised and told him not to come back. I don't need **** players.
Click to expand...

that made me laugh mate :)
 
That Macheda bit made me lose it! Haha this is gonna be great!!! :D
 
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Transfers & Training

I woke up at around 8:30 to my alarm ringing in my ears. I thought back to yesterday and smiled as I had enjoyed my first training session with the players. My phone lit up on my bed side table. It was a message from Malc. He praised my decision and credited the way I handled the Macheda situation. I again smiled as I leant over and hugged my Charmander cuddly toy which always made me feel safe when I slept at night. I was happy and I seemed to be impressing my boss. I thought about ringing the wife and kid but honestly couldn't be arsed to hear about what they were up to. Helga never shuts the **** up and Manki moans like a ***** really, nope today was going to be a good day and nothing would bring me down.

Just then another text lit my phone up, it was Malc again... He was summoning me to Carrington where he said he had something important to discuss with me, uh..oh, had I done something wrong. I felt like one of my under 8 players must have felt when I summoned them over to beat them when they had done something wrong in a game. I swallowed deeply and got ready for work.

I arrived at Carrington at at around 9:50 and immediately bumped into Malcolm Glazer, literally tripping and falling into him knocking him over. I just hadn't seen him. It was similar to a Paul Scholes tackle the poor bloke writhed around in pain before the medical team stretchered him off to a nearby office. I sat with him uneasily as another bald headed man was tending to his injuries. Malc was given a lolly for being a brave boy and I calmed down after I was offered one too. He eventually revealed what it was he wanted to talk to me about and I was relieved to be told that I was being offered £30,000,000 for transfers. Back in Ukraine I never had any sort of budget and only had to buy the kids water so they didn't die, this would be something new altogether. Glazer told me to sign a BIG player for the club and said I had as much freedom to do what I wanted with the squad. A few more medics then came in and stretched him off to the medical room.

I finished my lolly and headed straight to the dressing room where I was told my players were waiting for me. Yesterday I remembered seeing our goalkeeper and thinking that he wasn't much bigger than the players I coached back in Ukraine. I approached him and he nervously looked at me. I asked him who he was and he told me his name was David Du Gay. I asked him to spend the rest of the day in the gym and told him that I would be getting him some steroids as soon as I could.

I lead the team out for another training session, accompanied by Mike Phelan who had done what I had told him and was now wearing quite a convincing wig and a chap called Rene. The players were training hard but seemed to be distracted by something. I stopped proceedings and demanded to know what was stopping them from their keepy-uppy training. They told me that something was moving in the nearby bushes and they were worried it maybe an injured Badger suffering from a stray shot from some **** called Anderson. I grabbed a nearby rake and walked over to investigate, I slowly approached as not to startle what could have been an injured creature. I got closer and closer and as I slowly peered over the top of the hedge I saw the little **** Macheda who had been slowly trying to worm his way back into the clubs training session. He looked dreadful and I almost felt sorry for him in his dirty, damp clothes and muddied face. Those words rang in my ears again... "**** player....**** player"" I immediately snapped out of my sympathetic mood and smacked him on the head with my rake. He ran and I chased him to the gates. "Shooo" I roared before shutting the gate in his face.

I returned to training and Phelan had now got the lads training on their tackling. It looked like a good old Slobber-knocke to be honestr, Paul Scholes was licking his lips and sharpening his studs whilst targeting his next victim. He startled me as he let out a loud war cry before running full blast at one of the lads, two footed, He hurtled towards this guy. The poor mite's life must have flashed before his eyes, tears welled up in his eyes. He dived out the way of the tackle dramatically which left Scholes sliding on futher than intended and halfway down the pitch and still going. Malc who had popped out to watch the squad for a bit and now seemingly recovered from our earlier accident was now in Scholes' path. The ginger ***** slammed into Malc knocking him over and tumbling straight through a nearby window. The medics ran over, placed him back on the stretcher and carried him back off to the medical room.

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After this debacle I sent Scholes home as he clearly has issues. I told him not to return until he realises why I was cross with him and that he was a naughty boy. His target who was now laid on the floor gripping his shin like he had just been shot had dived so brilliantly I had to congratulate him and tell him that this was a talent a club like ours could use to our advantage. I asked him his name and he told me his name was Ashley. I told him that I like his style but that I would now refer to him as Splashley and he should either like it or lump it the diving little scamp.

Training was a bit dull after that incident and after having to chase off Macheda a few more times and catch up on some Angry Birds I decided to go home and write up a transfer list. As I had no idea who the good players are out there I would have to use Youtube and the interned to resource my knowledge.
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Transfer Unveiling

It had been a few weeks since I had that conversation with Malc, the one about him giving me £30,000,000 to spend on transfers. I had spend the last few weeks researching who were decent players. I scoured lots of libraries and looked through hundreds of archives. The word "BIG" still rang through my ears. Luckily I know a great signing when I see one and I am 100% sure everyone will be ecstatic with my first purchase. This player possess, power, strength and has a keen eye on goal. Although his goalscoring record is not formidable, he will become a club legend. He is at the very peak of his game and his experience is second to none.

It was time for me to sit down with Malc and speak to the press about my new signing. I sat with Malc who looked excited. I had forgot to tell him who we had signed as he had been away in Devon for the weekend with his fam, caravanning for a few days. He looked sceptical but I assured him he would be happy. I added that I had only spent £10,000,000 on this guy and he looked pleased there was still money left.

I told the press that we would be welcoming home a Premier League legend today and they all looked to me in a curious way. I told them that this player would go down as a United Legend and that they should all be very excited to meet him.

After having to ramble on to the press for a while the time had come for my signing to make his entrance. Malc's eyes darted over to the door he would be coming in through. The journalists froze and quietened down. The ground shook and big padded footsteps could be heard. My water on the table rippled and a smile grew on my face, just then the door flew open and off it's hinges. I announced to the audience that I was pleased to welcome... Emile Heskey!

The journalists who had been drinking water spat it out, some laughed and others quickly jotted down notes in their pads or on their phones. They seemed really happy and so did Malc, He was so excited he went all red and couldn't talk. He took a sip of his water to calm down but ended up choking on it. Just then the medical team came rushing in, laid him on a stretcher and carried him off to the medical room. I knew he was happy the excitable rich oaf.

Emile tried to sit with me but ended up breaking the chair Malc had been sat on so he stood instead. A plucky journalist piped up and asked me what he though our fans would think about Heskey's arrival after he had played for Liverpool. I asked him what this Liverpool thing was and he explained that it was one of our clubs hated foes. I explained that I don't give a **** about that and that I was told to buy a big player so I did.

Emile was asked why he joined United and simply stated. "I football like, but me money is better. Sneed tell me all you can eat in canteen, me agree, yum, yum. I'm very impressed by his English too".

After the press conference, I fed Emile some fruit pastels before leaving him to find his own way home. I then left to go home too. Another successful day.
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The Big Fight!

I got up in my usual tradition, checked my phone, kissed my Charmander teddy, Ignored the calls from Helga and Manki and eaten my shreddies. I whistled a happy song as grabbed my keys and headed out to my car. I turned on the radio as I drove to Carrington and rocked out a bit of air Guitar to this insanely addictive song. It was called something like Girls Want To Have Fun. I pulled up to my private parking space and headed inside. The players who had been so eager to get to training had started a breakfast club so I headed straight to the canteen. As I approached, I could hear shouting and what heard like a prison riot. From the end of the hall I saw tables, chairs and food being slung around. I ran towards the two double doors which led into the Canteen. Just then somebody was slung through them, sliding down the floor towards me...

I ran to the beaten body and discovered It was Malc, I asked what had happened but the only reply I got was he's doesn't like sugar. Just then the medicas ran in, put Malc on a stretcher and whizzed him off to the all to familiar medical room. I steadied myself and stormed into the canteen. It was like Amageddon, Rooney and Van Persie were fighting off the larger and more feirsome Heskey. He roared like a T-Rex and smashed a few more plates. Little Pig was hiding in the corner praying to his God. Splashley Young dived out of a nearby window. The plucky David Du Gay tried to throw his bowl in self defence but couldn't quite lift it has there was a half eaten wheetabix still in there anchoring his bowl to the table. Ryan Giggs was chatting up the Canteen lady and Paul Scholes was as usual and in everything in life just turning up and late.

I grabbed Heskey by the ear and screamed at him. A bellowing silence fell accross the room. Nanny and Anderson appeared from under a table, wiping Rice Krispies off their brows. I demanded to know what was going on. I spoke to Heskey first, "I no like Sugar in my Coco Pops" he spluttered. "They all tip sugar in my bowl and call me Emilia" I patted the poor boy on the head and stroked him as I addressed the team. "This is classed as bullying" I explained. Everyone looked on in silence and with guilty faces. I do not expect this at a club like this. I felt so grown up and sensible. I told all of the players that they would have to stay behind and clear up the Canteen before going home, except Heskey as he had been bullied. All the players were made to shake each others hands and make up. I was pleased that there seemed to be no lasting damage to team morale. I left to go and set up the days training, Little Pig was still praying and shaking in the corner. I put my hand on his shoulder and gently whispered in his ear... "That'll do pig, that'll do"

Training went swimmingly, especially for Splashley who after having glass removed from his body was sent to go diving in the training pool. Robin Van Persie looked sharp in front of goal and seemed like he was buzzing. Now coming from Ukraine I know what that usually means. I sent Mike Phelan over to him and asked him to report to the toilets for a random drugs test. Phelan came rushing back with the goods and placed it on the table behind me. Anderson was doing all his fancy footwork as usual and as always kept waving at me and trying to get my attention, just like Manki used to back in the day. I called him over and he smiled, bounding over like a little boy. I picked up a stick off the floor and his eyes never came off it. I threw it and he went running after it. After a few times of doing this I got bored and told him to to stop acting like a ***** and get back to training.

Malc who had recovered asked me how things were going as he sipped his what looked like a cool refreshing drink. I explained that I had sorted the situation and that everything was now back on track. He looked relieved but a bit tired. I told him to go home which he agreed. He grabbed a flare from his pocket and fired it up to the air. Seconds later a Helicopter landed nearby to collect him. "Don't forget the friendly tomorrow" he yelled as he was ascending into the air.

I had forgotton about this and was worried about the squad knackering themselves out. I yelled to them that the training session was over and that they could all go home. Heskey who looked ****** hugged me before going back to the dressing room. I started to walk off but remembered Van Persie's drugs pot, I swung back around but it had gone. Oh well I thought it must have just been thrown away.


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love this story, i dont usually get to like many but this is definitely one i do like.

great work!
 

Manchester United - Friendly 1

View attachment 307296Man Utd 1 v 0 PortsmouthView attachment 307298
Little Pig (38) ----------------------------------

This was supposed to be a good day. My first match in charge of Man Utd. It started off bad, as I thought this was an away game I had already driven down to Portsmouth and booked a hotel. I stayed there the night before finally wondering where the rest of the squad were. I called Phelan and he he laughed at me and told me that we were playing at home. I rushed back up to Manchester and to Old Trafford. I ran past thousands of fans who were queueing to get into Old Trafford. It was nearly kickoff and I wasn't about to let some snotty nose kid get in the way of me walking out with the team. I slammed several young brats out of the way and a few frail old grannies may have fallen victim to a few punches to the back of the head but I was desperate and I'm sure they'll be ok. Anyway I got in by jumping a turnstile and rampaging down towards the dressing room. Phew!

I made it just in time. Phelan was there addressing the team. I shoved him out of the way and pulled his wig over his eyes before kicking him up the **** and launching him out of the room. ******* ****** won't laugh at me again. I sat the players down. I spoke to Du Gay first, "I need you to not let the ball go in the net. I know sometimes you struggle but that is your job". I grabbed Heskey by the shoulders. "You my big strapping £10,000,000 worth of meat need to get yourself a goal today so the fans get on board and start to love you. Like a fat kid loves quavers". I turned to Rooney who was putting feriliser on his head. "Your dropping to the bench", I explained. He looked tense, angry even, he screwed up his face and turned away from me. "Little pig I want you up there with Heskey" The little scamps eyes glistened with joy. he looked amazed that I had chosen him over Rooney. The rest of the squad was decided and we went out to play our first game.

the first 15 minutes were boring as ****. I even ended up calling Manki I was so bored telling him about the game. I remebered though how he likes to droan on about his day too so I quickly hung up on the little freak. I heard a huge roar and people cheering I looked up to see Heskey carrying over the referee and explaining that he didn't see him but he had inadvertently trail-blazed him, killing him by accident. The crowd were stunned but before long a new referee was kitted up and the game carried on. The old referee was propped up on our bench flopping onto Rooney's lap every so often. Rooney was now spoting a daffodil on his head.

Again the game got dull so I enjoyed flicking bits of dirt at the Pompey players and shouting out "Yo Mama jokes" to them. It seemed to rattle them as Rafael got down the right and crossed in a good ball which was dinked into the net by little pig! GOAL! I ran onto the pitch and hugged him so embarassingly tight that the others had to peel me off him.

Half time came and with Little Pig playing so well he got to choose the half time music. I don't know who Eiffel 65 are but I liked the song he chose. Ferdinand who looked tired asked me if he could come off as he was lacking match fitness. I told him no as I don't believe in Santa, the tooth fairy or lack of match fitness.

I probably should have listened to Rio as after 5 minutes he had to come off with an oxygen mask firmly attatched to his face. ******* wimp! Again the match was dull. Pompey play **** and I swear their players are about 8 years old! It came to the end of the match and a stray Heskey shot ended up speeding towards the VIP area. The crowd whooosshhed in horror as the stray shot had so much power behind it, it looked lethal. A head popped up in the VIP area. Malc who had been enjoying the game from the best seat in the house was unluckily placed as the ball pelted into his face, knocking most of his teeth out. The medics went clambering up the stands to reach him before laying him out on a stretcher and taking him to the medical room.

The final whistle blew and my players waltzed back down the tunnel. I hugged each and every player before announcing that my MOTM was me. As I chose the team I was indeed MOTM. The players agreed and we all high fived. I told them I was tired after the high octane 90 minutes I had and left them all to **** off home

Bliss my first win!



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This story has me in fits, well done sir.
 

My New Signing

I thought nothing could cheer me up! I had just been told that they wouldn't be able to make me a statue of myself and put it outside Old Trafford as the fans might not like it. I told the club that I had just beaten Portsmout in my managerial debut and that it deserved some kind of statue. David Gill came back to me five minutes later with a little blue-tac figure he had made and asked if that would do. I slapped him and made him swallow the blue-tac piece of ****. I wasn't happy at all. As if that wasn't bad enough I was apparently getting sued for signing some womans **** out on the high street. It wasn't my fault, everyone had been asking for my autograph as I was starting to get noticed around Manchester. I still say that if your ***** are that big they deserve to be written on.

Just then while I was in my office playing twister by myself. Mike Phelan came in. He's here he proclaimed. I asked who he was on about and he explained that my second transfer had just arrived through the front door of Carrington. I jumped up and told Phelan to take todays training session. before stroking his chest and telling him he was a good boy.

I ran to reception where I was met by a Young lookig lad, he was holding his daddy's hand and looked nervous. I called them both into my office and sat them down. "Hello Brooklyn" I said. he hid behind his dad. "Are you glad to be signing for Man Utd today?" I asked. He looked shy and didn't move from behind his dad. "Does he ever ******* leave your side" I asked his dad.. "umm... eerrrr.. ummm yeah" his dumbass sounding dad said. I explained that playing for Manchester United was something special and that only I in the room would understand being the club manager of course. Brooklyn's dad kept on trying to say something but to shut him up I kicked a boot at his head which meant he had to go to the medical room for treatment. Brooklyn sat on the chair. His legs didn't even touch the floor and he spend alot of time on his Nintendo DS. He was playing Pokemon Black. I asked him how far he had got and we spent the next 30 minutes talking about our Pikachu's and Charmanders. I immediately signed him up there and then.

£10,000,000 gone on this super cool lad. Just then his dad came back in, sporting a cut on his forehead. He's ours I explained. His dad smiled before walking out with Brooklyn. He piggybacked his son to the car and shouted that they would be going for Ice Cream. I signed and wished that my son Manki had a dad like that.

The rest of the day I spent trying to get my Charmander to evolve into a Charmeleon so I could rub it in Brooklyns face when he arrived for training on Monday. The squad would be ok with Mike for the remainder of the day and I just couldn't be ******!

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Are you going to continue the story? I can't wait for the next update, if there is a next update.
 

Manchester United - Friendly 2

View attachment 313240Brighton 0 V 2 Man UtdView attachment 313241
-----------------------------Anderson (2)
----------------------------------Ryan Giggs (55)

I travelled back down to the South Coast again and this time I was right to do so as it was indeed an away game taking place this weekend. Mike Phelan came down with me and I'm glad he did because I couldn't be arsed to drive so I made him do it. His car however had been taken into the garage as it needed some repairs. He rocked up at my house and I couldn't believe what we had to travel down in. Phelan was sitting on what looked like an old scraggy motorbike and whats worse it had some crappy little side car compartment which I had to sit in. I showed Mike that I wasn't happy by spitting in his face in disgust. I told him that I now wouldn't be sharing my sandwiches with him which I had made. I knew he'd really miss my Marmite and Monster Munch filled sarnies.

Anyhow we strode off into the sunrise at 6:10am looking like a pair of Rhino's testicals both with our grey helmets on. I tucked into a few sarnies and swigged some vimto which I had to hydrate me and keep me chirpy. I also caught up with some angry birds and set up a twitter account. My name is @Skeevensneeven and I now follow Rio Ferdinand, some big bapped bird Katie Price and a man called arry Glitter. After I played on my phone I played I-Spy with Phelan who seemed to enjoy it untill guessing that his bald head was the answer everytime. Good job I bought a spare wig for him.

When we arrived I told the lads to head straigt to the park for a little kick around and to train for todays game. The players had their own training activities. Goalie David Du Gay had to wrestle the biggest looking people he could to the ground to show off his strength. The defenders had to run up to groups of kids playing and boot their footballs away and laugh in their puny faces to show off their containing and aggression. The midfielders had to play tag complete 100 keppy-uppies with the ducks and the strikers had to hit old people with the ball to show off their striking skills.

After the trip to the park we had a match to go to. We turned up at Falmer Stadium and were met by some cheerleaders. They seemed very lovely ladies with their smooth good looking legs and their peachy, perfectly pinchable bums. I was a bit unsure about their deep voices and the stubble but we were down south so I guess it's normal. Anyway after I stopped perving and giving my number out I followed the team into the stadium.

It was minutes before the game and the squad had their instructions... Win or don't ******* come back!

The match started off strongly and we scored within minutes as Anderson who usually looks pretty ****, unfit and unable to score actually scored a goal. He ran past some Brighton matey passed it to Welbeck who took it past another Brighton mushty, he then passed it back to the excitable Brazillian who sidefooted into the goal. He ran over to me for a hug but I slapped him and told him to stop being a girl. I then subbed him, told him I was going to fine him two weeks wages and sent him to wait for the rest of the team on the team coach. On came the tank which is Phil Jones. Brighton started to get an edge into the game and tested David Du gay quite a bit. He was struggling with his vision after having received two black eyes and a concussion after jumping on the back of some big fat bloke during his training at the park.

I knew I had to make some tactical decision, something to help my team out. I picked up a water bottle took a gulp of coffee which I now fill the bottles with and decided to spray any Brighton player with it who came near the touchline. I shouted that they were all freaks and that they smelt like Owl ****!

Half time came and I told the squad to carry on doing what they were doing apart from Rooney as he was pretty **** and I could tell still had his mind on thse sexy cheerleaders. I took him off and told him to have a wank in the dressing room toilets to clear his head. On came Van Persie! He ran out with gusto and soon had the Brighton players running around in circles. He then laid off a brilliant ball to Ryan Giggs who after five minutes caught up with the through ball and trickled the ball into the net. with a weak shot. He then fell to the ground injured and in need of his false teeth, his walking stick and a blankie to keep his legs warm.

We won the game and were all happy, we hugged after the game and all decided to stay down in Brighton for the night. We pulled up to a club called Chaps and started drinking quite heavily. The lads were all loud and boozy and showing off their wedges of money. I sat with two fella's who I got pretty friendly with, they must have recognised me as they looked at me lovingly and stroked my leg throughout the night. One whispered something into my ear but I couldn't quite hear him, it was something about alleyways and bending but I just smiled and went to seek out my players. I kept getting my *** pinched but whenever I turned around I couldn't see the girl who had done it. In fact I didn't see one girl in the club all night. Weird!

It was now 2am and we all decided to stagger back to the coach and return home. As we approached it I forgot about Anderson who I told to wait for us to return after his girly stunt during the game. He was scratching at the windows all hot and sweaty, his fingertips were bloodied from constant friction against the window. His tongue was hanging out so I gave him a bowl of water and he soon nuzzled into me for a nap on the way home. I patted him on the head and he gently drifted off.

The coach pulled out of the carpark and my phone buzzed. It was a text from Rooney. "Don't wait, I'll see you in Manchester" I guess he had pulled the young scallywag. As the coach drove through the car park gate I saw those sugar-honey cheerleaders again, they were now drunk and carrying a man home with them, they seemed aggressive and were fighting over the Youngster who was wearing a Wayne Rooney replica shirt.

I told the players all to shut the **** up and get some sleep before falling asleep with Anderson in the front two seats of the coach.


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Great result;). Pity Giggs needs a new set of false teeth.
 
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