When Chris Sutton spent an entire season tearing a strip off Ronny Deila, no-one batted an eyelid in the SMSM smurfs. Keith Jackass, whose reportage is predicated on the lunar cycle, had a few fly kicks when Deila was on the floor. This resulted in the bumped-up bagel boy being banned from Celtic Park. When Murray Foote is selecting his list of fifteen to be culled at the Rectum, will Jackass’ copy and paste of the latest PR spin from the Level 5 Auchenhowie Velodrome be enough to save his coke-bloat neck? With only two clients, namely Ladbrokes and Rangers, is all mail for Mangetout at Blythswood Square now diverted to his day office at Auchenhowie? Are Ladbrokes aware of Level 5’s cheek-by-jowl relationship with Rangers? King’s attack dogs, the Sons of Strewth, have been unable to land a glove on Sutton as he’s always accompanied by two bodyguards. Halloween Houston is too slow to trouble Sutton. I blame the Temazepam. Is Sandy still dealing?
When Mr Sutton appeared on Radio Snyde’s Super Soundbite to promote his one man Singalong with Sutton show, he took down DJ’s pants to expose a pair of Cheerleader’s light blue knickers with 32 Red emblazoned on the back and Le Coq Sportif at the front. Mrs Johnstone might beg to demur as to the mission statement of his French Fancies.
However Mr Sutton was not telling us anything we did not know. DJ, the Captain Pugwash of Punditry, has been splicing the same mainsail and cutting the same jib of his Clyde schooner, The Marie Curie Celeste, with his one scoop that had the half-life of an isotope. When Sutton turned his gunner-sights on Warburton, stating that the Rangers job was too big for him, the air turned as blue as Joey Barton’s rhetoric.
Monsieur Barton was a little perturbed when English Football League representatives refused to hand over his Championship Winners medal at Burnley Town Hall. Having been previously banned for twelve games for assaulting three players in the same game, Barton decided to try his luck at Rangers. Having been rebuffed at Celtic, his agent rocked up at Ibrox to arrange a two years contract. The small matter of Barton’s signing-on fee and McKay’s stipend did not leave much change out of a cool million.
Neil Doncaster had high hopes for Barton. Your humble author on the other hand was more circumspect. I envisaged the signing as being analogous to a transatlantic voyage where outward passage was booked on The Titanic, and inward passage on The Hindenburg.
No-one in the Ibrox dressing-room was making daisy-chains for Barton’s arrival as he has always been a Marmite player. One either loves him or loathes him. In the beginning he kept his own counsel, or more accurately that of Ray Winstone at Bet 365.
When Barton subsequently decided to teach the culture monkeys at Ibrox some French, he addressed Warburton and stated:
“Ecoutez et Repetez apres-moi: Warburton sur-la-mer, vous êtes un cunt désemparés.”
The most genial my schoolboy French could reach for was:
“Monsieur Warburton, your methods are as effective as a vagina with an identity crisis-it had always wanted to be, like you, an anus.”
This was a little unkind to our relatively inexperienced Managerial Doyen. Joey has been suspended from attending all three nocturns of Matins. Willie McKay, who would sell his grandmother’s colostomy bag for a profit, proffered a Glasgow Rubber Ear when offered a pay-off until January, with the proviso that the onerous £2m+ contract was rescinded. He delegated his refusal to his old china, Darryl Hall:
At this juncture, operations dismiss Barton with prejudice, and Saving Private Warburton are in full swing. The PR Walrus that is Mangetout Traynor was quick to call a halt to a journalist who made Warburton sur-la-mer a little hot under his Red 32 Collar. Warburton had to retreat from the conference room to splash his face with cold water, which was provided free from the party pipeline of a local church.How remiss of the builders of The Sports Direct Megastore not to arrange their own supply. I’m fairly certain that the £95,000 in monthly charges had nothing to do with it.
One wonders if Neil Doncaster continues to believe that Joey Barton is box-office after receiving an incoming flea in his ear from BT Sport. Warburton sur-la-mer refused to conduct his contracted interview with the internet broadcaster as he was miffed at some criticism from Mr Sutton. He took his petted lip with him all the way to the team bus.
Warburton sur-la-mer should be fined for his conspicuous absence, but with transgressions piling up at Ibrox like a game of Grand Theft Auto, Doncaster is expected to go easy on the eggshell egos of the Ibrox board who have been crying fowl since the Scottish Cup Final.
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