For who would bear the whips and scorns of time..

And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry

It’s Sunday the 13th May at 4.44 pm , Champions-elect Al Mahn Citeh, peace and blessings be upon them, are leading Queens Park Rangers by one goal to nil scored by Yo-Yo Toy, a goal that will surely cement his position, after his two goals against the hated rags, in the great pantheon of Citeh legends with Colin Bell, Mike Doyle and Buster Phillips (You remember him surely ?)

The clock ticks down , the laser blue hordes clutch their inflatable bananas nervously, trying to remember the words to their marching song, “44 ears and weer still there, no its ..er.. 24 beers and you’re still here.. oh forget it, any more news from the Stadium of Light?” In the North East , the red team from Manchester are failing to grasp the opportunity to secure an unprecedented twentieth title as the score remains a draw with only seconds left to play.

Back at the Etihad, Mark Hughes flicks the ball back into play, and an Anton Ferdinand throw-in is collected by football’s latest answer to Jean-Paul Satre, Joey” Tweeter”Barton. The one time darling of the Kippax glides through the City defence, pausing only to stub out his cigarette in the onlooking Curly Watt’s eye, before stabbing the ball past Hart for an unlikely equaliser. Mike Dean, the referee, books Jolyon Lescott for looking like a Klingon and inadvertently drops his Manchester United membership card from his pocket while brandishing the yellow. The hapless Mancini looks on shrugging away, his blue and white scarf in disarray, as Dean blows the final whistle. In stunned silence the Etihad waits for news from Sunderland. The eerie silence broken only by the scratching biro of Colin Shindler writing notes for his third book ” Mike Dean ruined my life”.

4.47 pm –  surely it’s over now at the Stadium of Light. Howard Webb decides to add on another 7 minutes of Fergie injury time. Sunderland’s guest manager for the day, Steve Bruce, always willing to listen to friendly advice from his erstwhile scottish mentor, agrees to substitute the two centrebacks Turner and Kilgallon for Wes Brown and Kieran Richardson, choosing to ignore their respective knee and groin injuries. ” Run it off, Wes” shouts Steve. This now formidable back four of ex-United players must now deny their former employer the league.

Rooney loses possession to John O’shea who attempts a risky ball across his own area to Phil Bardsley. Bardsley in turn miskicks and the ball richochets off the static Wes Brown and a passing blue balloon (No, not Franny Lee) into the Sunderland goal, Howard Webb signals towards the centre circle and moments later, realising his mistake over the time added on , blows his whistle for full-time. Poor John Millington will never make the team bus now, Noel and Liam cancel their unscheduled visit to the post match press conference and to the ghostly tolling of Helen’s Bell,  three quarters of the population of inconsolable Stockport begin to sob uncontrollably………

………to sleep; to sleep: perchance to dream.

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About Moorendman

A traveller through life who reads a great many of peoples works whilst self teaching himself.
This entry was posted in Manchester, Stockport and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to For who would bear the whips and scorns of time..

  1. Peta says:

    so near

    *sobs*

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