Counting the Days 'Til Roland Duchatelet Sells Charlton Athletic
Comments
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He's gone!!!
For a bed bath allegedly...4 -
Day 1993.
He’s still here.
Ohforcryingoutloud0 -
Oops..... Evening 1994.
He’s still here.
Ohforcryingoutloud.1 -
6 more days to 2,000 ... totally surreal
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Day 1995 and 1996.
It is yet another Saturday morning and the B.O is in an indignant mood. He is about to speak to someone at de kloob on the phone.
He gets through swiftly.
“ Hello? Yes I want to speak to whatever wanker I left in charge.” he says firmly.
The reply is swift.
“ Thank you for calling the NHS. I’m afraid all our operators are currently busy playing table football. Please try again later.”
“ OH FFS!” cries the B.O, in frustration, and slams his phone down on his bench.
But being a visionary sort of fellow, he realises that this is not much of an episode.
So he has another go.
This time he gets through to Tarquin Over-Promoted, Head of Walking Aimlessly About The Place In a Nice Suit.
“ Yar?” says Tarquin, stirring his tofu infused latte.
“ You utter bastards!” yells the B.O. “You move the club to another ground, you get a load of CARD carrying, flask wielding, soft terrorist bastards to come along for a piss up and a sing song, the team end up winning some game when the season is already over, and no one even thinks to consult me or let me know! SO WHEN WAS SOMEONE GOING TO TELL ME WE ARE NOW WEMBLEY ATHLETIC FC!! AND WHOSE FUCKING IDEA WAS THAT!!!???”
At the other end of the line, Tarquin stirs his latte thoughtfully and wonders whether a cinnamon swirl would hit the spot?
“ AND WHAT TWAT GOT US PROMOTED??!!. CHRIST, I’LL BE DOWN TO MY LAST BILLION BY CHRISTMAS, IN THAT FUCKING LEAGUE!!” rages The B.O.
Tarquin, meanwhile has heard enough.
“ Dude, I’m like thinking, ooh anger management alert, I’m hearing some issues’n’shit for you to work through here. And anyway, you were invited dude, and you hid. I mean, really.”
There is a gasp of disbelief from the B.O.
“ WHAT?? DO YOU.....KNOW WHO I AM?!!” he splutters.
Tarquin sniffs.
“ Sort of vaguely, but more importantly, guy, do you know who I am?” he asks.
“No!” yells the B.O.
“Good.” replies Tarquin. “ Fuck off then.”
And he puts down the phone.
Let’s leave Tarquin and the B.O. still unsure as to who the other is, and let’s just bask awhile in the glory of last week for a few days more, till the clouds maybe begin to loom.
He’s still here.
Ohforcryingoutloud
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One of the best weekend episodes.1
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Day 1997.
He’s still here.
Ohforcryingoutloud.0 -
Day 1998.
He’s still here.
Ohforcryingoutloud0 - Sponsored links:
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Day 1999.
Get your party hats ready.
He’s still here.
Ohforcryingoutloud...2 -
Party hats?
Made of rice paper, so easier to consume if he sells?
Ohf...1 -
The BO in the world takes a few moments of reflection in his shed. Yes, the paint stains from the soft terrorists have been removed and all there is left is a white mark in the creosote where the paint stains used to be.
’We won, where were you?’
He ponders on the relative merits of owning a football club or a dance club.
How did there end up being nearly 40,000 ants? They must have been breeding under the horse manure he and his gardener Leuven De Turd has been applying.
Little buggers, going to need some extra strength dung to sort out that level of support.
And why were they all dancing at the end anyway? That level of emotion is reserved for the night club dancing after the game.
He sighs.
No one understand my vision. Even Alan Turing would struggle to understand, and he was chemically castrated by people who didn’t understand how people can be different.
‘Right’ thinks the BO, I’ll show these ants how to live. He sends Bowtox, or whoever his name is an email.
’I’ll pay you 20% of any reduction in player wages you make from your current league budget to your lesser more expensive league, rolling monthly contract’
He signs a contract to extend his shed down two floors into a deeper bunker where hopefully less Belgian press will get to him.
He orders 1m amaretto biscuits.
we leave him there smiling, forgetting that amaretto biscuits go well with coffee. And that having the company of people who share in a passion and get excited with it is a feeling he has missed out on once again.
Truly visionary.4 -
Day 2000.
Now you might be feeling the urge to dance this morning. You might be inclined to lean out the window and call someone stupid. You may suddenly suspect everyone is a terrorist and they’re out to get you.
But, in truth, it’s just another day.
He’s still here.
Oh fuck.3 -
Day 2000.
Who would have thought he would still be here.
Come on Shitweasel do the decent thing and sell the club.1 -
So he's still here?
Hmmmmmmm!
Now THAT has really pissed me off!1 -
Day 2001.
Our very own spaced oddity.
He’s still here.
Ohforcryingoutloud..2 -
I’m pleased we’ve got the big 2000 out the way. It’s like desperately wanting Xmas to end.0
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Day 2002 and 2003
This morning the B.O is having an important conference call with his senior staff. Saturday is the ideal time to do this because none of them are at school.
He begins:
“ Right...... before we start, just let me make sure I’ve got this right...... we’re not Wembley Athletic FC anymore?”
“ No.” replies Tarquin Over-Promoted, stifling a yawn.
“ Well, were we ever Wembley Athletic FC? Even for like a day, or for 10 minutes?” asks the B.O
“ It never happened, dude.” replies Tarquin
The B.O shakes his head and looks disappointed.
“ Shame. I could have got a couple of big bastard hotels tacked on to THAT West Stand.”
Meanwhile, Stewart AgedNine has a suggestion:
“ Uncle, I know! To help us keep the club apart from all the CARD terrorists, why don’t we move the whole thing to...... The Isle of Wight!”
The B.O gives a small start.
“ What?” He says.
“ Great beaches, opportunities for hotels and shops, really difficult for supporters to get to, and hey, how about this for a chant - ‘ Lee Bowler’s Isle of Wight Army!’ explains Stewart.
There is a long silence.
Finally, the B.O speaks.
“ That is an absolutely brilliant idea. But unfortunately it is not MY idea, so I’m afraid it’s utter bollocks. There’s only room for one Visionary in this organisation, so Stewart AgedNine, you’re fired. Your mum is waiting for you in reception. Now get your milk and clear off.”
He cuts the link to Stewart and addresses the rest of his staff.
“ Right, we have just been promoted, and we’ve got the fans behind us again.”
He stares at all of them in turn.
“Does anyone here have ANY IDEA how this has happened?”
There is a silence.
“Me neither.” says the B.O. “ So the plan going forward is we do EXACTLY the same again as last season. I’ll cut the budget and issue a few bonkers statements from time to time, and I’ll make sure I never go anywhere near de kloob. There. How can it fail!”
He stands up and addresses them all.
“Gentlemen, prepare for the Premier League!” He cries.
Well, let’s leave the master tactician to his master plan and hope something happens soon.
He’s still here.
Oh forcryingoutloud...
9 -
Loved the bit about none of them were at school.2
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Yup, me too.happyvalley said:Loved the bit about none of them were at school.1 -
Day 2004.
He’s still here.
Ohforcryingoutloud...0 -
Day 2005.
He’s still here.
Ohforcryingoutloud0 -
Got that Madness tune in me head now...& how ironic that it fits with our club at the mo...☹️...N01R4M said:Party hats?
Made of rice paper, so easier to consume if he sells?
Ohf...3 -
Day 2006.
He’s still here.
Ohforcryingoutloud..0 -
How spooky if he leaves on day 2019 in 2019 whoooooooo #wishfulllthinking2
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Day 2007.
The takeover thread.
It’s still here and still going
He’s still here and still not going.
All this and bin day.
Ohforcryingoutloud...
2 -
After so many (2000+) false dawns, I'm determined not to count @Arsenetatters chickens until they've hatched...
However, my subconscious has a different aganda & I dreamed of a B.O.-free club last night. BLISS!2 -
Mr Tatters says we have too many chickens so best not to count them anyway!N01R4M said:After so many (2000+) false dawns, I'm determined not to count @Arsenetatters chickens until they've hatched...
However, my subconscious has a different aganda & I dreamed of a B.O.-free club last night. BLISS!1 -
Nonsense Mr Tatters just doesn’t want to build any more cages1
