A Cautionary Tale!

Oldgobbin · 22-09-2007, 19:24

[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3]First of all, well done to the lads today – quietly efficient and three points without playing awfully well. However, the differences between the crowd’s welcome for the three subs prompts me to offer you a little story “wot I wrote” The moral is that not everything is quite as black and white as it may seem – and I hope it makes you smile a bit. The names have been changed to protect the guilty and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely intentional

An Unsavoury Incident

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It had been a busy night in the Cloggers Arms, where players past and present from Nori Brickworks Athletic FC had gathered together for their annual reunion and buffet. Numbers had dwindled during the latter stages of the function. The manager, Johnny Mustard, had been ordered by the landlord to go and sit on his own after disgracing himself during the karaoke, Big Paul the striker had gone home early and was probably by now mullin’ over his accountancy textbooks in preparation for his retirement and even Ronny Bono had had to rush off, as he had been called for an audition for a French U2 tribute band.
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There only remained:
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Rory Springboard, who had long since left the Brickworks to take diving lessons off the pier at a nearby seaside resort.
“Big Lee” McHeavy who had recently returned, having spent several months sheep rustling in the Welsh hills on behalf of Burger King
Leighton “Nutboy” McGivemwun who had joined the club after playing for a pool team in a pub, or was that playing for a pub team in the ‘Pool?
James “Babyface” McTweed who had finally been allowed to leave school, though his headteacher swore he was no more than 14 years old.
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The only slight altercation, during an otherwise quiet evening, had taken place when a group of Welsh shepherds sitting by the bar were heard to call McHeavy a big wimp. What they actually said was a big Wimpy, but, unfortunately, he allowed himself to be slightly provoked and signalled to them that it was already past two o’clock and that they should go off and attend to their sheep.
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It was shortly after this that the whole evening turned sour. Young Arnold Mincing, captain of the pub tiddlywinks team, who had been sipping his orangeade in the corner, decided to go to the Gents. As he did so, he brushed against Springboard, who promptly fell, writhing to the ground, clutching his face and claiming that he had been punched in the chest, stomach and groin and that his leg had been broken in three places. He screamed to the landlord that poor Arnold should be promptly ejected from the pub. The latter, however, claimed not to have seen the incident and took no action.
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At this point Babyface, enraged at his friend’s treatment, walked over to Arnold and projected a gobful of spittle full in his face. As he wiped the foamy liquid from his eyes, the poor winker suddenly found himself on the receiving end of a “Glasgow Kiss” from Nutboy, which knocked him to the floor.
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At this point, the landlord threatened to call the police, so the friends decided that it would be in their best interests to leave. They looked around for Springboard, but he had already leapt to his foot and run off into the night, so the other three headed for the door. As they stepped over the prostrate Arnold, McHeavy stamped on his leg for good luck and they set off home, looking forward eagerly to the next Brickworks gathering.
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So, dear reader, your task is to apportion blame for this unsavoury incident. Do you agree with the Mr Mustard, the manager who, having witnessed the incident from his lonely spot, was convinced that it was all the fault of the landlord? Do you agree with the passing customer clutching a saggy pink cloth cat, who stated that anyone who signalled the time to Welsh shepherds should never darken the Brickworks doors again? Do you agree with the headteacher, who was firmly of the view that Babyface was far too young to be in the pub anyway? Do you agree with the captain of the pool team who failed to see any appreciable difference between a kiss of two balls on the pool table and a kiss between two heads? Or… do you agree with the local lady shopkeeper who maintains that Springboard is simply misunderstood, deserves all our sympathy and was rightly protected by his friends? I personally blame Arnold Mincing, who, had he not chosen that moment to go to the toilet, could have prevented the whole incident from taking place.
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The choice, dear reader, is yours. If I were CmonBrickworks, I’d organise a poll, complete with bananas.

As it is, I’ll just leave it to you to make your own minds up, as you play “Spot the Thug”.

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maccawozzagod · 22-09-2007, 20:40

The single most intelligent post, on so many different levels , I have read all year!

But personally I agree with the people who live in the nearby houses and had to put up with the unsavourary aftermath of this incident.

Won't somebody think of the poor residents?

harwood red · 22-09-2007, 20:47

ha ha ha ha, crikey think I was there that night

Bagpuss · 23-09-2007, 21:07

Quote:

Originally Posted by Oldgobbin

Do you agree with the passing customer clutching a saggy pink cloth cat, who stated that anyone who signalled the time to Welsh shepherds should never darken the Brickworks doors again?

Of course I agree who wouldn't.

A well written and interesting piece of work Oldgobbin but why choose now to post it?

Oldgobbin · 24-09-2007, 14:32

I think the second line of the intro to the story, together with the later comments on the Mansfield thread explains "Why now?" My view (and I know you don't agree here BP) is that, whatever our personal feelings, when players pull on a Stanley shirt we should try to get behind them, whatever their previous transgressions - and, as the story hints, there have certainly been transgressions by more than one! I simply tried to express my feelings in what I thought might be an amusing way.