Just to prove that there are Palace fans who can write something funny here's an effort from one of them going back to 2004, just before we sent them down.
Simon Jordan speaks to the Sunday Times
Agents are nasty scum. They are evil, divisive and pointless
Crystal Palace chairman Simon Jordan pulls no punches as his team prepares for today's visit of Charlton
Fourteen years ago, a sad and frustrated 22-year-old man walked through the streets of New York. Head bowed, shoulders slumped, he shuffled up to a phone box and levered off the cover to pay for that night's meal. He had just been sacked from his job as a waiter after telling the clientele that they didn't have the right mentality to be served by a young man on the verge of greatness, a year after flying to America with dreams of "making it" in the Big Apple.
He sat down on the floor, looked up at the phone and made a promise to himself. "I swore that never again would I find myself seated floorwise circa a phone box on 74th and Madison preparing to tell my mother via a telecommunicating consumer device that I had resigned from a waiting job because the owner was a complete t*sser. Never again would I sob uncontrollably from a tearwise perspective because my life could not cope with the success that I had demanded of it and that the world expected and was waiting for. Never, never, never, never, not ever and possibly not at all as well. There is nothing like failure for making you understand. I swore it would never happen again. It was my destiny to save the world, just as soon as I got Palace into the Premiership and found the cnuts who stole my watch even though it was a watch which I would not buy transactionally for another 10 years"
On a cold London afternoon in December, that same man - now a very private multi-millionaire who likes to keep his thoughts to himself - is heading for an office on New Bond Street. He is 36, rugged and handsome and more knowledgeable about football than any other Chairman, yet strangely humble, sociable and always willing to listen to the views of others. He has just returned from his home in Spain (the Santiago Bernabeu stadium in Madrid) and is staying in his usual suite at the Travelodge Hotel. He has a three homes, a phalanx of staff that he employs to drive his 12 cars, and is secretly the chairman of Crystal Palace Football Club. He is wild beyond his richest dreams, having sold his chain of Pocket Phone Shops (PPS) four years ago.
I meet Simon Jordan at the offices of Max Clifford - the superstar public-relations guru retained because of Jordan's deep mistrust and dislike of the media, who have failed to meet the standard of grammar and worship that Jordan demands from reporters. He is tall, about 6ft 2in, and lightly tanned from his recent trip to the Tan-u-like health suite on Thornton Heath High Street.
The smart but expensively casual suit with open-neck pink shirt shouts, "I've got an expensive casual suit" and, "I'm the owner of a suspect shirt." Then there is the jewellery. His ring is huge, but it helps to ward off piles. He is covered in diamonds as the pearly king of South London. On his left wrist he sports the same watch as David Beckham - they share it. Its worth about £70k. He recently had it stolen in a nasty attack while driving through London in his Bubble Car. He issued a statement warning the thieves that he had friends on the wrong side of the law who'd be looking for them as soon as they'd paid their parking fines. He doesn't like to be messed around, does Jordan. He also likes to speak his mind.
"I don't give a f*** about football protocol and the other club owners," he says. "They want me to sit and have lunch before the games. F*** that. I want fish and chips in a newspaper with a boiled egg pickled onions and mushy peas in the directors box washed down with a can of London Pride followed by a fart-lighting competition. I don't go to football to drink chardonnay in the board rooms with those tossers. I go to see who can light the biggest fart. I don't have anything in common with 90% of football club chairmen. They don't interest me. I'm no respecter of the tradition of winning things and influencing people and I have no time for the Manchester Uniteds and Arsenals of this world.
"There's nothing to admire in these clubs. They're just bullshit worlds full of bullshit people. Football is a bullshit world. Agents are nasty scum. They're evil and divisive and pointless. They only survive because the rest of the sport is so corrupt and because leading football club people employ their sons in the job. But I'm here to save it. Coppell, Smith, Bruce, Francis, Kember - I made them what they are. Happy ex-employees!"
There. That'll be why he needs Clifford as his media adviser, then.
"I can't help being honest. I'm not a fan of the creed and culture of footballers. I hate this hero status they have. How many cars, homes and watches have they got? Eh? I want a good club and good football, not superstar footballers but footballers that have met me and are grateful to be part of this second coming. Football's about the club at the heart of the community, my community, Jordan country, where every man can own his own Ferrari and red jackets are a right, not a privilege, where each person asks not what their club can do for them but what they can do for their club in a truly fantastic display of personal wealth and "char-i-dee".
"It's the fans that I love. They're the heart of the sport. I remember driving back after Palace lost to Reading a couple of years ago, and David, this disabled guy, was walking to the station on crutches. I wound down the window and told him to f**k off back to London. I sat there the whole time thinking how much I hated the players for not representing inconsequential people like him properly. I hated them for not winning and making my life better. When I think about what people like him contribute and what agents and players take out of football, it drives me nuts. So, I signed him up for our centre midfield and moaned at him for not getting into the box enough.
"I'm not sure how much longer I'll stay in the sport.
Palace is in the Premiership - I've done my thing. I don't want to turn into an old chairman and be like all those other sad bastards. I'd rather just remain an arrogant young know-it-all"
Comments
Simon Jordan speaks to the Sunday Times
Agents are nasty scum. They are evil, divisive and pointless
Crystal Palace chairman Simon Jordan pulls no punches as his team prepares for today's visit of Charlton
Fourteen years ago, a sad and frustrated 22-year-old man walked through the streets of New York. Head bowed, shoulders slumped, he shuffled up to a phone box and levered off the cover to pay for that night's meal. He had just been sacked from his job as a waiter after telling the clientele that they didn't have the right mentality to be served by a young man on the verge of greatness, a year after flying to America with dreams of "making it" in the Big Apple.
He sat down on the floor, looked up at the phone and made a promise to himself. "I swore that never again would I find myself seated floorwise circa a phone box on 74th and Madison preparing to tell my mother via a telecommunicating consumer device that I had resigned from a waiting job because the owner was a complete t*sser. Never again would I sob uncontrollably from a tearwise perspective because my life could not cope with the success that I had demanded of it and that the world expected and was waiting for. Never, never, never, never, not ever and possibly not at all as well. There is nothing like failure for making you understand. I swore it would never happen again. It was my destiny to save the world, just as soon as I got Palace into the Premiership and found the cnuts who stole my watch even though it was a watch which I would not buy transactionally for another 10 years"
On a cold London afternoon in December, that same man - now a very private multi-millionaire who likes to keep his thoughts to himself - is heading for an office on New Bond Street. He is 36, rugged and handsome and more knowledgeable about football than any other Chairman, yet strangely humble, sociable and always willing to listen to the views of others. He has just returned from his home in Spain (the Santiago Bernabeu stadium in Madrid) and is staying in his usual suite at the Travelodge Hotel. He has a three homes, a phalanx of staff that he employs to drive his 12 cars, and is secretly the chairman of Crystal Palace Football Club. He is wild beyond his richest dreams, having sold his chain of Pocket Phone Shops (PPS) four years ago.
I meet Simon Jordan at the offices of Max Clifford - the superstar public-relations guru retained because of Jordan's deep mistrust and dislike of the media, who have failed to meet the standard of grammar and worship that Jordan demands from reporters. He is tall, about 6ft 2in, and lightly tanned from his recent trip to the Tan-u-like health suite on Thornton Heath High Street.
The smart but expensively casual suit with open-neck pink shirt shouts, "I've got an expensive casual suit" and, "I'm the owner of a suspect shirt." Then there is the jewellery. His ring is huge, but it helps to ward off piles. He is covered in diamonds as the pearly king of South London. On his left wrist he sports the same watch as David Beckham - they share it. Its worth about £70k. He recently had it stolen in a nasty attack while driving through London in his Bubble Car. He issued a statement warning the thieves that he had friends on the wrong side of the law who'd be looking for them as soon as they'd paid their parking fines. He doesn't like to be messed around, does Jordan. He also likes to speak his mind.
"I don't give a f*** about football protocol and the other club owners," he says. "They want me to sit and have lunch before the games. F*** that. I want fish and chips in a newspaper with a boiled egg pickled onions and mushy peas in the directors box washed down with a can of London Pride followed by a fart-lighting competition. I don't go to football to drink chardonnay in the board rooms with those tossers. I go to see who can light the biggest fart. I don't have anything in common with 90% of football club chairmen. They don't interest me. I'm no respecter of the tradition of winning things and influencing people and I have no time for the Manchester Uniteds and Arsenals of this world.
"There's nothing to admire in these clubs. They're just bullshit worlds full of bullshit people. Football is a bullshit world. Agents are nasty scum. They're evil and divisive and pointless. They only survive because the rest of the sport is so corrupt and because leading football club people employ their sons in the job. But I'm here to save it. Coppell, Smith, Bruce, Francis, Kember - I made them what they are. Happy ex-employees!"
There. That'll be why he needs Clifford as his media adviser, then.
"I can't help being honest. I'm not a fan of the creed and culture of footballers. I hate this hero status they have. How many cars, homes and watches have they got? Eh? I want a good club and good football, not superstar footballers but footballers that have met me and are grateful to be part of this second coming. Football's about the club at the heart of the community, my community, Jordan country, where every man can own his own Ferrari and red jackets are a right, not a privilege, where each person asks not what their club can do for them but what they can do for their club in a truly fantastic display of personal wealth and "char-i-dee".
"It's the fans that I love. They're the heart of the sport. I remember driving back after Palace lost to Reading a couple of years ago, and David, this disabled guy, was walking to the station on crutches. I wound down the window and told him to f**k off back to London. I sat there the whole time thinking how much I hated the players for not representing inconsequential people like him properly. I hated them for not winning and making my life better. When I think about what people like him contribute and what agents and players take out of football, it drives me nuts. So, I signed him up for our centre midfield and moaned at him for not getting into the box enough.
"I'm not sure how much longer I'll stay in the sport.
Palace is in the Premiership - I've done my thing. I don't want to turn into an old chairman and be like all those other sad bastards. I'd rather just remain an arrogant young know-it-all"
Like 'Crystal'.
If anyone is within arms reach of him, please give StoneChurchGremlin and slap and ask him to keep quiet in future! ;-)
Is that the new arthur waite???