08/05/2011

Civic Parade? An alien concept in Plymouth apparently!

What the bloody hell is going on in Plymouth? – no civic parade!? Been waiting for the open top bus up here outside Home Park all day, my speech in hand. Bloody Brendan came out and told me to eff off once or twice or he’d enforce the dispersal order.

Had to get on the open top bus tour that weaves round the Hoe with one of the missus’ hairbrushes as a makeshift microphone, ruddy £5.50 to get on, offered them 0.77 pence in the pound for the trip but they said for that they’d take me once round Bretonside. I think the old Japanese couple sat at the back really enjoyed my pearls of wisdom, taking photos with me all the time and asking if I‘d sing ‘Chim Chimereee Chimchim cheroo’ . I asked if they knew anyone interested in investing in a football club back home because there was a good opportunity in Plymouth but they both just shrugged. As I’ve said all along I don’t want a pat on the back for saving the club the way I did but, you know, a few of the lazy oiks that fork the pitch for a living could have come to show some appreciation for all my hard work this season, especially after we gave them such a lovely, state of the art, pitch to work on, and all for so much less than a jolly, er I mean business research trip to the Middle East. The son-in-law made some quip about ‘even the grassh I buy coshts more than that’ – I’ll never get the abstract Dutch humour!
He’s broken up for the holidays now so we’re going to have a real crack at the jigsaw, he’s looking forward to a well earned bit of R&R.

Seen that trouble maker Fletcher gobbing off all over the ‘Welshie Moaning News’ as I’m now calling it. Bet he’s revelling in it - bloody Commie, did you all scrub each other’s boots for Simon Jordan (now that’s a tan!) at the Palace? Yeah thought not!
Its your fault they went bust Carl Marx-Fletcher and no-one else’s!
Had Keith over for a barbecue and a wii session, he seemed to be affecting a rather crude attempt at an Irish accent all night and had insisted on bringing over a 4-pack of Guinness. When I asked him why, he claimed he’d been introduced to the black stuff by hisIrish relatives back in Killfootballclubby. I said he sounded Bally ridiculous, geddit geddit?

Saw that My Paul dusted off his wee sporran for a rare outing, oh the fun I used to have watching him swing his sporran. Near the end we used to keep the transfer kitty in there.


Is there enough left in there to get Nicolas Marin back on loan??

29/03/2011

Above; Argyle's new investor?

What a night movie night was this week at Burj Al Derriford! All the boys came over and there were some new faces too!
After hearing about it, Keith insisted that he come over with his new mates and we all watch The Alamo (he’s suddenly decided its his favourite film) with some Doritos and dips. Even Runaway Roy was there, although there weren’t enough seats so he had to have a beanbag.


Keith had his new friend Heaney with him - I told him I really liked his poems and that we should get together and jam sometime. If I’m honest he looked a lot like the Crazy Frog so I warmed to him instantly - how I used to love that frog. Apparently his girlfriend might be able to get me Roman Abramovich’s number too! Keith tells me that he used to run a really successful company called Cornish Hovels until they ran out of Wattle and Daub or something. He’s saved just enough of it though for ‘The Big Plan’ (which I think was Keith’s real reason for coming over).


They’ve got this idea of turning Home Park into the first 100 000 seat Wattle and Daub stadium (‘Nothing in the Taylor Report about Wattle and Daub or thatched cantilever roofs’ Keith chimed). Then, to boost crowds on a Saturday we’ll have Truro and Argyle playing at the same time - Keith is an innovator it has to be said. He also wants the ground to stage the Highland Games in 2020, I always knew he was a bit of a tosser (caber tossing that is).


King of the Wild Frontier

After the film we went out into the garden as it was still light and re-enacted The Alamo. There was an argument before it was decided that mine and not Keith’s hairdo looks more like Davy Crockett’s hat and as its my house I got to be him. I'm a lot like Davy Crokett really - you know, man of the people and all that. You know apparently John Wayne lost the personal investment he made in the film The Alamo - idiot! We changed the ending though and instead of the dastardly Mexicans storming the fort and killing us all we held it firm against them and after finishing off every last one of them we went back inside for a slap up Dominos, Texas BBQ flavour of course!

24/03/2011

Above; Found this one in Marce's album

Big day for the son in law - contract talks with Plymouth Parkway - you see Argyle are looking to offload their top talent to give them their chance to shine in other teams. He ‘s got the Three Crowns FC after him too, but he’d have to collect the glasses on a Friday night if he signs for them. The eldest has been stomping round the house all day singing ‘We love you Parkway we do’ at the top of her voice. She’s signed up to Parkway Insider already, cracking banter on there - much more mature than the PASTITTI lot, everyone’s on there guessing the score and attendance for the big one against St. Blazey tomorrow night.
It did help that Big Bad Brendan came round at 6 am pounding his fists on the door then charging upstairs to get Marce out of bed. ‘C’mon rise and shine now Tulip’ he screeched into Marce’s ear, banging a spoon around inside a saucepan and making an awful racket - I couldn’t really make out what was happening - its always a bit shall we say fuggy in there. He even tore down Marce’s favourite poster, the one that looks a bit like Jason Bent, ‘Bob Marley, Exodus - very fitting don’t ya think?’ He said with a sneer screwing the poster into a small ball. No idea what he's on about sometimes.

　
I see some lad called Heaney wants to buy the club off me - I looked him up on Google - I tell you I don’t go much on his poetry . He wont get far spouting that in the dressing room to gee the lads up before a game, I mean hark at this;

Is wooed into the cyclops' eye
Of a tarn. Our unfenced country
Is bog that keeps crusting
Between the sights of the sun

That’s not poetry that’s just words chosen at random surely? It doesn’t even rhyme! What an odd lot the Cornish are - how this chappy made any money with drivel like that I’ll never know! I wrote a bit of poetry once - I got all inspired after a few schpeshials and got carried away with myself - try this, its from one of my best called The Hero;

His silver moustache flowed in the breeze
He rode into town on his gallant steed
He single-handedly dragged the club from its knees
From an evil goblin the castle was freed


Dead excited about the sale they’ve got going on up at Home Park tonight - really want to get my hands on that Chris Leadbitter shirt, put it on next time I know I’m going to see Dan, he’ll never get his hands on them now, muhahaha - ‘you want the shirt off my back dontcha Dan? Well you aint getting it’ That’s what I’ll say, really stir it up man!

19/03/2011

Above; Balls


Only Rotherham today so I wasn’t that fussed about going out there. I used to like it when we were playing teams like West Ham & I could hob nob with people like Trev Broking. Actually he sorted us out once when we got that draw away at Arsenal, I said ’Trev the coffers are a bit low, we’re using ASDA’s own prawns in the half time sarnies fer chrissakes, heat up our ball eh son?’ - they wouldn’t sort us out again this season though - Swinton at home - what’s that all about!!?
‘What did you do with the last lot?’ asked Lord Triesman when I got on the blower asking for Liverpool at Anne Field. Well those Fabergé Eggs we had put on the empty plinths in the trophy room didn’t buy themselves!
‘Look I pulled the strings and scratched the backs for Keith and his World Cup Host City bid, I’m not doing any more, stop pestering me’ he said. He’s to blame for all this!


I watched it on the TV instead - turn up for the books we were on BBC 1! 24 - 8 what a win eh! That’ll do our goal difference the power of good - what’s with all the hats they’ve started wearing since I left though? I thought a couple of our goals were shades of handball though. I tell you it looks a lot rougher game on the telly than it does live!


Had Big Pete round this morning wanting to borrow my Argyle tie and jacket for some sort of appointment in town - hope I get it back, never saw my N Dubz album again after I lent it to him!
Marce was coming down stairs and offered Big Pete a couple of puffs of his morning schpeshial but he’s always in such a rush he couldn’t stop.


Had to press the ‘busy tone’ to HMRC today. They must be wanting to do some sort of Customer Satisfaction survey , well if they’re ever lucky enough to get me I tell you it’ll be ‘5 Strongly Disagree’ to every question!

17/03/2011

Above;  Mount Edgecumbe                                                                                         (Alaska)


Comic Relief tomorrow night. Love Comic Relief me! I don’t wish to blow my own trumpet but I love to do my bit for charity as you know. I work to the motto ’you get what you give’.
Was planning to do a hike up Kilimanjaro to raise some funds but there were too many bloody jabs required and Dar Es Salaam looks a bit edgier than Dubai. So I settled for a sponsored walk up that hill to Mount Edgecumbe House from where you get off the Cremyll Ferry. I raised £16.07! Big Pete sponsored me a tenner. I ended up spending a bit of it on a bacon sarnie from El Vera’s café, the ferry fare and a Fab lolly from the Orangery though. I’m sure that what I was left with will buy a school in Chad or something although I had to dip into the change from the Fab to buy the envelope and stamp to send the rest to Terry Wogan. I wont be buying a new nose though - the ‘88 classic plain red nose will not be beaten in my opinion, far too gimmicky these days, I’ll just give mine a dust and it’ll be good as new!
Made sure I didn’t tick the ‘gift aid’ box on the sponsor form though - don’t want those sods at HMRC getting involved!
It was pretty gruelling getting up that near vertical slope though, had to take a break about half way up, altitude sickness I think. Think Touching the Void but with more swearing. I was almost beset by some ferocious looking squirrels at one point.

Had the journos on the phone disturbing my celebratory cream tea when I got to Mt. Edgecumbe’s summit (do they even do cream tea in Tanzania?). The reception was a bit dodgy up there at the peak though and all I could make out was that the staff at Home Park were all signing some sort of Well Done card for me? Really its nothing honestly, just doing my bit for the downtrodden - you’ll make me blush.

After my intrepid adventure I went over to have a look at that building they put up over there in honour of one of our all time greats, The Yoann Folly. Its in a sad state of repair - bloody spending cuts! If those do-gooders the Green Taverners are looking for a really worthwhile project there it is, no-one should be allowed to forget the invaluable contribution he made to our club.

16/03/2011

I’m writing this from an Interweb Café in Calais – the French really have caught up with us!
Why am I in Calais and not Carlisle? Well I found my Stobart lorry didn’t I? But apparently all roads do NOT lead to Cumberland. I must’ve had four or five of Marce’s schpeshials while I waited in the undergrowth for my opportunity to stow away. Well when I got in the back of the trailer all the boxes looked like they said Carlisle to me - but then my vision was a bit blurry for some reason. I must have passed out amongst the boxes for a number of hours. When I awoke & could focus on the packaging clearly I was pretty shocked!
So there I was bleary eyed as some unshaven dock workers opened the trailer doors and started shouting at me in some unintelligible dialect – it could have been Torpoint but for all the tricolours flying everywhere!
I was taken to a small windowless room at the ferry port and asked to fill in some routine paperwork. I was pretty fatigued and instinctively I signed my name in the Arabic, Baulus Bin Derriford. Well I wish I hadn’t done that now I can tell you.
Had to call Big Pete again who called me a ‘blithering cretin’ but they soon stopped the waterboarding when he’d been on the line five minutes with them.


They have got a game though on Saturday, Calais I mean, so I might pop back over – might be nice to watch a game without the risk of being mobbed by all my fans. They’ve even got a player called Jonathan Fromage (literally Johnny Cheese!!!!) He’d have been a great signing under our old manager, who was it again, Peter Stilton! Hahaha. Might see how much they’d flog the club to me for, the marketing opportunities would be tremendous.

So I thought that while I was here in the le Web Café waiting for the ferry back to Dover I’d check out the free 14 day Argyle World trial - I’m not bloody paying for that crap. Saw that Lala scored again though, he was one of My Paul’s young starlets, if we stay up this season you can’t deny it’ll be down in part to My Paul’s expert wheeling and dealing on the transfer market.
I taught Bolasie that dance too you know, don’t let him tell you otherwise!


Sat here as I am in France I was struck with a brilliant idea - enter Argyle into the French leagues - who wants to go to Bolton when you could have Bordeaux! And just think how many cheap fags and how much knock-off booze from Majestic Wine Warehouse you could fit on the team coach on the way home!

14/03/2011

Just heard that the lads are staying in a 4 star hotel thanks to some sort of charity organisation associated with the club, might try sending them my Le Meridien Hotel receipts to reimburse me. Seems a bit off for well-paid footballers to be taking money off a charity! Do they even have 4 star hotels in the north? They say that Leeds has a Harvey Nics but I’m not so sure about that judging by the tatty get-up that Bloody Big Bad Brendan wears. Nice shades though.
The eldest was up the wall earlier when she read online that the club were 45 BILLION lira or something in debt. ‘Marce will have to move to Utrecht and I’ll never get to go to Flambards again’ she wailed.


I said it would all be OK because from what I’d heard some fellow called David Brent who used to have his own comedy show was giving me a suitcase full of gold and some signed photos for the club. It’ll be just like when Eric Morecambe was in charge of Luton. Even had the son-in-law over and we cracked open the Morecambe & Wise box set. By the afternoon (and after a few schpeshials) we were re-enacting that famous scene with the oranges and sausages, dancing all round the kitchen lobbing toast to each other. The missus went spare with all the pips scattered all over the floor and crumbs everywhere.


Tried to get hold of Keith again - see if he wanted to book us as a stand-up act, the showpiece event of the summer for Home Park. The club tried to get the Krankies but the rider was too expensive, despite the fact that the son-in-law managed to get a deal on most of the stuff on the list - no idea what or who Meow Meow is!? We were thinking of some names, Double Dutch, or The Simpletons maybe? Was going to get his expert ‘event organising’ opinion on it. Went straight to bloody voicemail again though. ‘This is Keith - yes, yes I’ll have your bloody money for you soon’ said the all too familiar message.
Tried Big Pete but he was busy at Emperor Tropicals picking out some green fish for his new offices - wonder where they are?! He loves fish so he’s loved it in Plymouth - he only came down to see the National Marine Aquarium and do some crabbing he told me, but he’s still here.


Talking of Eric Morcambe, been n the phone all bloody day to Cumbria Football Club, still no invite to the game. Tried 118 118 and asked for Eddie. but he wouldn’t accept reverse charges - tightwad northerner! Get Michael Knighton back in - he knew what he was doing! Might cruise the jag up and down an A38 ambush one of Eddie’s trucks in a lay-by and climb in the trailer while the drivers taking a kip, all roads lead to Cumbria as they say.

10/03/2011

Bog Snorkelling - Is this one revenue 'stream' too many?


Well it seems that Little Pete is having some sort of car boot sale, selling off his old Everton socks, some knick knacks from Thailand and stuff. He’s such a thrifty fellow - if you don’t need it sell it, just like I say - wonder what he’s saving up for!?
Inspired me really, got on the phone to Keith to see if he wanted to try flogging some of the World Cup 2018 tat that we had made next time the Car Boot is on down Stonehouse Creek and going halves on the profit. But he said he was thinking of selling it all on eBay and needed the money himself, he was very cagey as to why though. ‘All you did was pooh pooh the World Cup bid you naysayer’ he said. ‘Don’t come running to me for a cut when Home Park hosts the World Bog Snorkelling Championships.’ He’s an odd boy.


Looked out in the garage for any other rubbish I could make a quick buck on. Found loads! Stockpiles of Ian Hollyway autobiographies - ha how the mighty have fallen! I mean Blackpool, what a sordid little grief hole. Bet he’s on the slot machine’s day and night, the greedy little sod. Not half the read that My Championship Diary is, but then, My Paul always had a way with words that Ian could never compare with. Its like Dostoyevsky v Archer - everyone knows Archer is the far more superior author. Really struggling to get into the Koran though, at this rate I’ll never find out who done it.


Talking of World Cups - Cricket World Cup - fantastic isn’t it? - I don’t like Cricket, I love it me! Been watching loads of it with the son in law sat on the sofa together. Ah the sound of leather on leather - squeaky. But back to the Cricket, brought a whole Cricket Club once - haven’t seen a game there yet but I plan to this summer - anyone know where I can get a fixture list? The son in law introduced me to the sport actually - apparently one of his mates is big on Cricket, Beefy some-one or other? He’s always ringing Marce and asking for him to pop up to Taunton with some more of his schpeshials.


Hartlepools at the weekend then - bit of a trek so I’ll be tuning in to Sparky with the rest of you while playing the Jeff Stelling drinking game with the missus - cant wait.

08/03/2011

'Tango Man?' The cheek!

Goooooaaal El Faaaaloni!

Totally amazing - I was there with you all celebrating. Well I had a great view of the Nicholas Lyndhurst stand (why do they call it that again?) jumping to their feet to celebrate. I found this beautiful little spot where those gates that let the Ambulances in are, kind of where the hinges are. Great big gap there - lets you see a whole fifth of the pitch.
Didn’t get my bloody ticket in the post again did I? - bloody Royal Mail. Got another one of those crazy envelopes with a Tokyo postmark with a few weird looking coins on with that oriental stick like writing on them though. Putting them all in the piggy bank to take down Thomas Cook when I book my next jolly, er I mean business trip, get it all exchanged.

Tried ‘Keith’s gap’ under the gate on the Grandstand side but Bloody Brendan was there waiting. ‘Keith tipped me off for a ticket and some green face paint so he could get in ye wee little eejit’ he said, kicking me repeatedly as I tried to wedge myself back out from under the gate.’You know where the ticket office is ye effin tango man’ he said. Funny thing is now that I think of it I have no idea where the ticket office is, can anyone send me a map please? Just post it to Baulus Bin Derriford, c/o Burj Al Derriford, the postman knows who I am, I pop 50p under some tape on the door at Christmas for him.

The one down side of the game was watching that bloody Communist Fletcher milking it with his bandage on. I always knew the Welsh were an antagonistic people. His name is mud in our house I tell you.
So they’re calling it the Great Escape on PASTITTI.com. I know because the eldest is on it all the time, we’ve had to fit the monitor with an ‘anti-glare screen’ on the advice of an Ophthalmologist. When they said anti-glare I thought they were referring to the looks on her face as she looked at the computer, but apparently its to reduce the brightness of the screen. Started penning my speech for the civic parade - ‘We couldn’t afford days like this, but Inshallah we survived!’

Settling down in bed now to read some more of ‘Paul Sturrock’s Championship Diary’ - I’ve read it 154 times now!

07/03/2011

Well what a great a week its been!
We've introduced 'Movie Night' in the Bin Derriford household!

Also -  SCREW YOU SHEFFIELD! – That’s one in the eye for the northern sods who treated My Paul so shabbily. I phoned Little Pete, told him there’s a bonus in it if you beat that lot – I’ll see to that, a Dubai souvenir pencil for anyone who scores. Didn’t expect us to go & bloody get four – hope young John Mason doesn’t want 2, I’ve only got 3! They’re well flash though, shaped like the Burj Al Khalifa.

Well the son in law is really miffed. Now that Big Bad Brendan’s in charge Little Pete is making him run up and down during training. He said to me ‘I told that Brendan ‘Your not the boshh of me’, but he clipped me round the, how you say ‘Lug hole’ and told me to go and kick ze football up and down a bit more, jeeesh they don’t pay me enough for thish!’
I got on the phone to Brendan & told him to go easy on the lad but all I got was a foul-mouthed tirade. ‘Eff off ye effin eejit’ I think he said at the end.

For my money Brendan looks a bit like a haggard hung-over Colin Firth and far more sweary. Funnily enough me and the missus and the son in law settled down to watch that ‘King’s Speech’ for the inaugural 'Movie Night'. Marce had it on an Asda recordable DVD. ‘Its already been releeshed on DVD in Antwerp Blockbushtersh’, he told us. We put the jigsaw to one side, cosied up on the sofa and passed a ‘schpeshial’ around between us. The climax of the film reminded me so much of my own epic unveiling on the Civic Centre Balcony. That day I emerged like the butterfly I am from my chrysalis to soak up the adoration of my public. That day I was ‘The King of Plymouth’. Well looking forward to the Swinton game tomorrow, had to go down the Centre Spot to ask where my ticket was. Usually it comes through the letter box as if by magic. I have to sift through drifts of other ‘junk’ mail marked ‘Final Reminder’ to find it, but there it always is in its little gold leaf envelope. Was quite perturbed by its non-appearance this week.
Got down the Centre Spot & found it eerily deserted – what’s going on? Were those bone idle Janners too lazy to open up today? I was there banging on the bloody door 20 minutes. I rang Big Pete to ask him if he knew what was afoot but all he said was ‘got my ticket buddy’ in a stupid voice.

Even tried that Surf118.com but they're out of freebies. Scrounging Janners - always want something for nothing!!

Its all right though because Keith gave me some really good advice about some large gaps under the gates that I could roll under tomorrow night if the worst comes to the worst and he said I could borrow his rattle so that I fit in with the riff raff.

04/03/2010

I had an udderly brilliant day. Geddit? Geddit?

There were too many well wishers down outside the Home Park gates today so we all took a detour. Went up to Pennywell Farm for the meeting instead. I didn’t want to go near so many pasty people anyway, just in case the dazzling whiteness of their bodies blinded me.
I had a go at feeding a lamb some milk and Keith helped collect some eggs – I had to keep telling him though ‘Keith you’ve got too many eggs in that basket, get another one for chrissakes, this is all going to end in tears! Too many eggs Keith, far, far too many for one basket’ He wouldn’t listen though, god knows how much the dry cleaners are going to charge to get all that yolk out of his trousers!
The Australian one from the Herald (Errington?) was ringing me non-stop while I was there – eventually I answered but held the phone up to a mooing cow – try quoting that!
Old Bobby Doddery grazed his knee chasing after a duck and had a little bit of a cry about it but he cheered up when he was allowed to pet one of the minature pigs.
For the meeting we sat on hay bails that the staff kindly arranged in a circle for us. They bought us some refreshing blackcurrent squash too. I was busy sharing out my presents from holiday when we got a call from Little Pete to say there was a serious looking lad marching around Home Park picking up stuff he liked and putting it in his bag.
But apparently its goods news though, apparently I’m going to have a lot more time for holidays now for some reason – always fancied a spot of ‘space tourism’ myself.
The absolute highlight of my day was meeting a talking gnome with a voice just like my Paul’s!
Been a bit of a whirlwind today really - but I’ll never forget my trip to Pennywell Farm that’s for sure!

03/03/2011

Got the big meeting coming up on Friday – yawwwwn. Board meeting, more like bored meeting if you ask me.
Bit worried about getting in though – my sources are telling me that there’s going to be a crowd of adoring Janners gathered to welcome me home when I arrive there, putting palm fronds down at the main gates and such like. Got myself down Cohen’s Magic and Joke Shop for a disguise, found these really realistic false glasses and nose – genius! I look a bit like Groucho Marx when I put them on. Got some stink bombs too –I’ll send some to Runaway Roy’s offices, he won’t be expecting that!



They don’t half drag these meetings though – all the lads asking me really difficult questions about money, even harder than the questions on 15 to 1!
In the end we usually order a dominos pizza & Keith gets Connect Four out for us to play to relieve the boredom. It usually just ends up with us asking Old Rob Doddery & the jolly looking one (Trevor I think) to look in their pockets for any loose change.  Sometimes we even go over and have a game of ‘heads & vols’ in the ground – you see we’re not stuffy at all.
Been pottering round the house today – withdrawl symptoms hitting hard. Been ringing round some building merchants to see how much it would cost to have the gardens covered with sand, sculpt a few dunes. Then I could get a nifty little '2 manner' from Milletts and live at the bottom of the garden like the bedouins. Just been moping from room to room. Nearly put my back out pushing the front door open when we got home. There was a great big avalanche of letters with stuff like URGENT stamped on them in red. I just crammed them all in my Manyana drawer as I call it.

Anyway, if your coming down to welcome me back tomorrow bring your autograph books I've been practicing my signiture in Arabic - بول ابن ستابلتون - that'll be a collector's item for you!!

02/03/2011

Sympathy for the Devil? TUNE!

What a night, the music, the lights, the glamour - I finally felt like I belong!
There I was strutting my stuff like Mick himself in his pomp to ‘Under my Thumb’ by the Rolling Stones when out of the corner of my eye I spotted the most gorgeous little red-head dancing close to a wealthy Arab Sheikh. Then at the bar I had the great pleasure to meet the lovely lady. Looking into her eyes there was real chemistry, an unfathomable spark of recognition, as if we’d met in a previous life. She introduced herself as we waited to be served, ’Well hi there hunni’ she said in the cutesiest accent I’ve ever heard. ’ I like your moustache. I’m Joy-geena Slyman from New Yoik.Why doncha come dance with me? .I’m lookin’ for a Shuga daddy with oooh say five hundert K in the bank.’ Well flattered as I was I’m an honourable man and I turned her down flat…next thing I know the missus is over in a flash and she’s decked Ms Slyman with a sweet left cross, and as she’s tumbled over her hair has slipped right off her head - a wig!!!
The bouncers were in like a shot - ‘So sorry Mr. Van Dyke, we’ll have her removed right away’ they said dragging the New Yorker away to the exit.
They even put some Pink Floyd on - the son in laws got me well into them recently - we put ‘Dark Side of the Moon’ on while we do the jigsaw, how does that line go; 'New car, caviar, four star daydream, Think I'll buy me a football team', amazing stuff.

We were introduced to the Sheikh Mohammed the ruler of Dubai- who I mistook for Eric Cantona, he’s a big football fan though so he found it hilarious. He was mightily impressed when I told him how I’d single-handedly guided a small provincial club to glory - in many ways a parallel of the rise of Dubai from a small fishing village to a gleaming metropolis. He even offered to send some Bengalese lads over to help with the imminent phase 2 of Home Park when they've finished his latest skyscraper.

Woke up this morning on the beach with no shoes on - no idea where they’ve gone.
So I’m on the plane now reflecting on a fantastic week, hope you haven’t been missing me too much. Don’t worry though, I’m uploading all the holiday snaps now - all 570. I’ll get on the line to the lads from Greens on Screen to put them on there so everyone can enjoy them.

Wish I hadn’t booked to come back today now but Little Pete said ‘We’re playing Wednedsay’ I thought he meant on Wednesday, not bloody Sheffield Wednesday. – I’m not going to bloody Sheffield so soon after being in Dubai, what a come-down that would be!

Above; Next stop Sheffield 

01/03/2011

Got down the Marina nice and early to see if we could pick up a bargain. First off we tried our luck in an auction – had my eye on a lovely 30 footer with on-board Jacuzzi. Imagined inviting the Black Eyed Peas onboard, cruising round the Sound and kicking back with some phat beats, a crate or two of Stella and a few of the son in law’s ‘funky schmokes’. Maybe even stop and take a cheeky leak on Drake's - yeah whatcha gonna do Dan? Muhahaha! Got pipped at the last though by a telephone bid from a D. Johnson of Huddersfield. Whoever he is I’ve no idea where he’s getting all his money from, lucky sod! Tried to get his number to see if he fancied investing in a football club but they wouldn't disclose it. Not sure how a super-yaught is even going to fit down those narrow canals up there.
Eventually they sorted us out with a rep who asked us about our budget. Well I’d been chucking money about on frivolities all holiday (the missus insisted on ordering the Tikka Mpenza every night this week; ingredients; lobster, beluga caviar, white alba truffles and the rare kagami mushroom) so the old bum-bag was feeling a bit on the light side. We were taken down the jetty past the 30 footers, the 20 footers and the dinghies and into a section marked miscellaneous. We picked up the little beauty below and they even chucked in a couple of those classy sailor hats that say ‘Admiral’ and ‘First Mate’ on them to seal the deal.


Above; Thinking of re-naming her Mayflower


Well the missus & I went out onto the ocean to test drive the new pride and joy and I came over all Pete Goss just rowing like a crazy man! We’d travelled a fair distance from land & the missus was getting a bit panicky, but just before we turned to head back I caught the strains of Radiohead’s ‘Karma Police’ drifting on the sea air . I followed the sound and soon we were rapidly catching up with a blonde man in a pedalo edging his way ever further from the shore, a portable stereo in his lap playing ‘OK Computer’ on repeat – it was Boris, weeping silently while methodically pedalling his way further into the ocean.
‘Nein Nein! Van Dyke, Mein Gott!’ he exclaimed on seeing us. We sailed on beside him for some time, but try as we might we couldn’t convince him to turn round – I even offered£20 of vouchers to spend in the Argyle Village! Eventually we let him go and sat there bobbing around helplessly, watching him turn into a distant speck on the horizon before we headed back to shore.
Anyway, Looking forward in earnest to the Swinton fixture next Tuesday – can’t wait to give a big wave to the ground, maybe get on the mic and give a half time talk to the crowd about my adventures (think Michael Palin but grittier), show off my new dishdash (see blog 23/02) in the boardroom. Apparently some lads even got kitted out in Hawaiian shirts in my honour for the Coventry win – Cheers lads!
My Paul used to manage Swinton you know. He made it a rule after leaving us the first time that he would only ever manage clubs beginning with an ‘S’, he’s such a quirky fellow. Actually this new boat of mine takes me right back to when Paul & I used to mess about on the Tamar in our glorious youth. We’d hire a skiff and I’d row us lazily up to Calstock, gazing into his eyes the whole way, so much was said between us with no words spoken.
You know what’s great about holidays? Its how when you get back everything’s just the same as how you left it.
Just glamming up for the Hotel Disco, might take a while, this moustache doesn't groom itself.

28/02/2011

Woke up feeling refreshed after my brush with the law - watching Al Jazeera into the early hours made me realise how close I’d come to getting totally stoned.

I’d been wondering all week what the mournful wailing was that I was hearing 5 times a day – it sounded eerily like the Mayflower every time a pass goes astray on a Saturday afternoon.
The staff at the Hotel reliably informed me however that rather than a disgruntled football crowd, this was the sound of the Muezzin calling the faithful to prayer down at the Grand Mosque. Now I’m a cultured kinda guy – I never miss the panto down at the Theatre Royal when its in town – so I thought we’d go down & check it out – I also wanted to see if the Muezzin fancied the tannoy & the 50/50 draw job at Home Park (unpaid of course) after hearing that some wag put Madonna’s Holiday on yesterday at half-time – they know I HATE Madonna. If I’ve told them once I’ve told them a million times Lauper not Madge!.
Besides, the little I knew about the Muslim faith told me it might mean half an hour’s peace from the missus.
We were just in time for the Dhuhr, or noonday prayer, and were welcomed in, to see what it was all about. The architecture is incredible, loads of elaborate mosaics, just like that underpass under Royal Parade used to look. Got me wondering how much Barr Construction would charge per Minaret. Well the Imam was in full flow – stirring stuff, much like one of Little Pete’s team talks. Now I love my gigs and I was getting well into it and was trying to ask the chap next to me whether the gift shop did audio CDs, but he was really quite ignorant of me no matter how much I tugged at his sleeve – then when I got a packet of Frazzles that I’d found at the bottom of my suitcase out, two of the burlier members of the crowd got me under the armpits & escorted me out! I wasn’t keeping them to myself either I offered them around. I don’t think it helped matters when at the end of the first prayer the missus stood up pointing at me & chanting ‘Your not singing anymore’ at me from the upstairs gallery.
I may have only been there a little while but I really felt that I’d gained a great deal spiritually speaking, I’m thinking of changing my name to Baulus Bin Derriford (literally Paul, Son of Derriford) and I’m going straight to Peverell Park Library for a copy of the Koran as soon as I get home.


Number 6 Chriiis Clarke!!!

Golf this afternoon – totally trounced the missus in spectacular fashion – apparently the course was designed by Ernie Els but for my money its not a patch on the pitch & putt on Central Park. For one the views are better at Central Park and secondly they don't mind if you play the course with an open can of Stella.
Got tomorrow all planned already - found out by chance that the Dubai International boat show kicks off tomorrow, see if I can’t pick myself up a nice schooner, get Roman Abramovich on speed dial & race him up and down the Thames.

27/02/2011

Can I just start off by saying - EAT MY GOAL CHESTERFIELD - 2-1 YESSSS!
And to think if I hadn’t sanctioned the Bolasie transfer we’d have never got those precious 3 points yesterday!


New balls please

Anyway that was just about the only good news in a pretty dreadful day.
So there I was atop the Burj Al Arab with Boris in my trusty Tennis shorts of 1985 vintage.
He says to me ‘Dick, do you want to use the racquet I won Wimbledon with when I was 17?’ Well what an honour, I could hardly refuse. Truth be told I was pretty psyched up and as I went to serve to start the first game, I’ve put so much force into my shot that I’ve let go of the bloody racquet and its gone way way over the edge of the court, spinning towards the sea a hundred feet below. Boris just crumpled to his knees, head in hands, inconsolable. I tried to placate him with the offer of some free tickets to our game against Rochdale and as many Ginsters pasties as he wanted (past sell by date obviously) but he just kept sobbing After an hour or so of this I had to leave, but I let the hotel staff know about Boris - there’s not much to obstruct a potential ‘jumper‘ up there on that platform.
So I went back down the beach where I found the missus rubbing oil into the bronzed rippling back of one of the Italian volleyball players, she‘s very ‘sun conscious‘.
She seemed well amorous and wouldn’t let me get back into Bravo Two Zero whatsoever, so eventually I relented and we ended up rolling around in the surf eating each other’s faces off, that was until a large shadow loomed over us blotting out the sun. All I felt was a vice like grip on my shoulder before I was bundled into the back of a cop car. I hadn’t the faintest what was going on, but I was bloody fuming, banging my manacled hands on the grill between me and the driver. ‘What the hell’s going on?’ I demanded. ‘You should have thought about that before you let your hands go a wanderings, Mr Lover Lover’ he said.
When I got to the cop shop it turned out that I was being charged with public indecency - a serious matter here apparently - they ought to see me and the missus bumping and grinding on the dance floor at Elfordleigh golf club when Fiddy Cent comes on - that is indecent!!
So they’ve taken me down to the cells and on the way the coppers said ‘I really would have expected better from you - what will your fans say?’ Who should be in the cell they sling me in but the American from the desert!! He was sporting a nifty panama & I made a mental note to hunt one down.
I asked him what they had him in for. ‘Aw shucks , they got me down at the Camel derby running a little ill-ee-gal betting shop - just need to get hold of my pal in Japan to go the bail, but he’s a busy kinda guy. I’ll be outta here like a shot as soon as I get him on the phone - No-one keeps George Lyman down!’


Above; a dramatic reconstruction

Well I got my phone call and got straight on to Big Pete - he was livid - called me all kinds of things but no sooner than he’d spoken to the guys at the station and they were falling over themselves to let me out.
The missus came down in a taxi to pick me up & take us back to the hotel - but as we passed the Burj Al Arab we were held up by a small crowd of people including some police with Megaphones with their eyes trained upwards.
I’ll post later but I’m gonna mong out now and watch some Al Jazeera on the hotel TV. Turning this bloody blackberry off though - Mubarak & Gadafi you think your under the cosh , try living a day in my shoes!

26/02/2011

My phone woke me this morning again, the ringtone of Tinie Tempa‘s, slick urban beats filling the hotel room. It was the eldest in a right tizzy. Apparently those hooligans on PASTITTI.com or what ever its called have been whipping themselves into a frenzy again. I asked to speak to the son in law, ‘calm her down I said, take her down to Flambards, usually does the trick, I’ll chuck you a twenty note when I’m back‘. Top bloke though, we have a cracking time together on Sundays when he comes over with what he calls his ‘specially imported dutch shigarettes,’ a packet of hobnobs and we get cracking on the jigsaw together - it’s a bugger though this one, we seldom get 10 pieces down in a session. Have to put the airwick on full blast when he’s gone though.


Above; The future for Home Park?

I tell you I’m always thinking about business opportunities, no matter where I am. We went down the Nad El Sheba Camel Racing Stadium today and I got on the blower to Keith ‘maximising revenue streams Keith? - I’ve got the very thing’ I told him ‘Argyle Saturday, Camel Derby Sunday - joint ticket 30 notes - you know it makes sense’. He didn’t seem too keen, said it would play havoc with the fibres in the new pitch, he’s so bloody precious about that bloody pitch! You should see him wincing every time there’s a sliding challenge.
For some reason I found myself rooting for El Faloni and his rider. Something about his lugubrious gait and sad eyes reminded me of watching our strike force on a Saturday afternoon. He didn’t really seem to know which order his feet should move in and he tripped over in a big mess once or twice round the course , causing hilarity in the stand. Nothing changes - they’re just the same in the Mayflower, scathing so-and-so’s. He came last, but it my eyes it was a moral victory even getting round the course with all that heckling.
Went down to the jockey’s dressing room - they insisted, ‘guest of honour guest of honour’ they kept saying, ushering me and the missus downstairs. There they were, El Faloni and his rider, sharing their post-race bath! I got him to sign my programme (no not the Camel haha! Be a bit difficult to hold a biro with hooves!) but then he wanted me to sign something for some bizarre reason, he was searching high and low but eventually settled on his jockstrap. ‘I will hang it pride of place in my hut and forever remember the day I met Dr. Mark Sloan’ he said, real gratitude shining in his eyes, ‘it will bring me and El Faloni luck’. Totally barmy this lot!
Was at the beach this afternoon making steady progress with Bravo Two Zero (recommended by Big Pete) when for the umpteenth bloody time the cursed Blackberry interrupted me. I was at the point of lobbing it into the sea when I noticed it was Boris! We’d swapped numbers the other night. He wanted me to come for a knock about up the the Burj Al Arab where they have the world’s highest tennis court. The missus said she’d stay there and watch these Italian lads playing beach volleyball - no idea she had so much interest in the sport! So I’m just slipping into my whites to make my way over there.
Will have my fingers crossed that Little Pete will call me with good news from the Cheltenham fixute this afternoon.
Ciao for Now.

25/02/2011

Well last night got off to a flyer down at Al-Jesters. Me & the missus were ushered in in front of the queue like Royalty – the lads working at the marquee on a Saturday could learn a great deal from this lot.
Got another cryptic comment and a wink from the bouncer though, ‘My kid loves Night at the Museum’ he said as he took my jacket. They escorted us upstairs to the VIP area and sat us with Boris bloody Becker who lives here! We got on like a house on fire and shared a shisha pipe, he had some top tips about dealing with HMRC! What a night!
So this morning we took a stroll down to ‘Palm Islands’. It’s a development of artificial islands each with their own luxury mansion. Took a snap on my blackberry & got on my picture messaging to Dan. ‘Just like what you’ve done with Drake’s eh?’ I wrote. He’ll be raging! Had to delete about 30 bloody texts first before I could send it ‘messaging full’ it said – journo scumbags.
Seriously considering putting an offer down on one of these places, getting away from it all, but I might try and get myself on ‘A place in the Sun Home or Away’, so I can meet that bit of crumpet presenter. The fella, Jonnie, seems a right laugh too, can imagine having a pint with him & putting the world to rights!
Caught a sort of wooden boat called an Abras over to the Bur Dubai. The Abras was very much like the Mount Batten Water taxi, except without a nice cool pint waiting for you on the other side! Me and the missus stood at the prow and re-enacted that scene off Titanic. The Bur is like a big jetty with the stunning backdrop of the city. Got some raised eyebrows off the locals when I started singing ‘New York, New York’ to the missus in my best Sinatra croon – I get these romantic impulses!



Then this afternoon we went out into the desert for a camel trek and the weirdest thing happened. Maybe it was the heat playing tricks with my mind combined with last night’s jalfrezi repeating on me with avengance. We’d gone way, way out into the desolation with just the clip clop of the hooves and the occasional lowing from the camels to break the silence. Then, on the shimmering horizon I spotted a White Stetson hat. As we approached it was clear that there was a man toiling in the afternoon heat, digging furiously, a stars and stripes hanky tied round his neck, his torso bare, red & peeling, his paunch hanging over his tight jeans, a pair of scuffed cowboy boots on his feet. We pulled up next to the man who was sweating profusely and really puzzlingly there seemed to be a glimmer of recognition between us.
He dropped the spade and introduced himself as George Shyman (‘I’m from a little old place called the Yoo Ess of A’) and told us he was looking for oil, ‘Gotta raise 500 thousand dollars for my buddy in Toe-kee-oo’ he drawled. ‘They say there’s money in this here desert, and if anyone’s finding it its gonna be George A. Ryman.’ 
I asked him if he wanted any of my sun cream but he looked up at the blazing ball of fire in the sky, turned to us with a sneer and said ‘Malignant melanoma? Pah, I’m not personally worried myself, load of baloney.’
We wished him luck and as we pulled away he turned on his getto-blaster and the tinny sound of The Boss belting out ‘Born in the USA’ could be made out for the next few miles floating out over the emptiness. Truly the American entrepreneurial spirit is alive and kicking!
I wracked my brain but I couldn’t put my finger on why he seemed so familiar, was he just a mirage, a figment of my imagination perhaps?
The whole episode left me totally befuddled and my arse was sore as hell.
Asked the missus if I looked like Lawrence of Arabia – fishing for a compliment like, but all I got was a mocking laugh.
Our guide took us into a Bedouin village out in the wilderness (think Yelverton, but with more advanced architecture), where we were invited to take tea with the elders. We sat in a circle and the guide translated as they told us of the hardships of life in the desert. I shared my story with them after which I don’t think any of them would swap their lot to take over running a football club!! The Sheikh looked exactly like Little Pete would if he grew a ‘tache, all wrinkled beyond his years with wispy hair. He liked my own neatly manicured facial hair, kept reaching out to stroke it, so on the way out of the village I imparted my own words of wisdom from atop my camel ‘Gilette Mach 3, the best a man can get, mark my word’ I told him, and rode off into the sunset.

24/02/2011

Day 2 – SCORCHIO! 30 flaming degrees, jackpot!



Last night ended in a bit of farce really – hit the shisha pipe a bit too hard and I was wheezing and coughing all through The Amazing Ali’s magic set. The room was whirling all around me and I ended up sort of getting up to leave, feeling quite light-headed & collapsing sort of sprawled over the front of the stage. I can't tell you if he was any good.
Soon perked up this morning though when I put on my best Hawian shirt. I was saving it for the Hotel Disco they’ve got advertised but I needed a pick-me-up.
Sixty-seven missed calls on my phone when I woke up!
Thought we’d try some retail therapy. No sooner had we hit the Souk though & there were a crowd of natives around me pointing and whispering to each other ‘Diagnosis Murder, Diagnosis Murder’! Its him its him’ I felt well harassed!
Anyway I fought through the mob & found some right good stuff for Little Pete & Big Pete off the stalls.
I had Little Pete on the phone last night telling me about the game in Brighton, apparently the bus broke down on the way, he sounded a bit down about it all so I cheered him up with my ‘Harry Enfield scouser impression’. He loves that. ‘Calm down Calm down’ I said haha! Got him this little wooden frog with a stick in its mouth – when you rub the stick down the frog’s back it makes a realistic ribbet! It’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen! Truly this is a forward thinking place, the techies paradise - Keith would love it here with his wee-fee and whatnot!
We went past the fish Souk too – smelt like the Barbican!
Settled on a t-shirt for Big Pete, It says ‘My mate went to Dubai & all I got was this lousy T Shirt’ in big letters on the front. He’s always banging on about all the holidays he’s been on, making me watch his bloody slide shows on his projector, regaling me with his crazy stories from Bangkok, Baghdad, Bognor or anywhere else you care to mention! So I thought I’d rub it in a little.
The missus keeps taking the rise out of my pasty legs now I’ve put my shorts on – ‘like alabaster twiglets’ she said – the nerve! She’s proved a tenacious haggler at the Souk though – thinking of bringing her in the boardroom next time we’re negotiating a player’s new contract, she‘d drive those thieving swines down!
Picked her out a gorgeous Burka, can’t wait to see her face when I give it to her, reckon it'll go down a treat at the China Fleet Club Christmas dinner.
Went down the beach in the afternoon – no sign of any bugger selling those round doughnuts you usually get at the seaside and we must have marched up and down that bloody beach 2 hours looking for a round of crazy golf.

Looking out over the dunes got me reminiscing about those long walks I used to take with Paul out at Wembury, then a passing Camel made a terrible honking sound, gobbing everywhere and I snapped out of it, not sure how long I’d been gone. Southend is probably a lot like this I imagine.
Bloody Camel herder had to come up and ask me for my autograph didn’t he?! ‘Dick, Dick I love Diagnosis Murder’ he said, I was getting well perplexed by now - funny people this lot - bit like the Cornish with their swarthy complexions and their love of spicy food.
I’ll post again later but the missus is insisting we go back out and hit the town - there’s a great sisha bar nearby apparently - something like Al-Jesters or similar, hope it’s a decent crowd and I don’t get mobbed as soon as I get out of the hotel foyer again.

23/02/2011

So - here I am in Dubai, what a place!!! Flew in over that great big building - tallest one in the world - bit like Chichester House on the Hoe only much much bigger! Had to lean across my missus though, she called shotgun at check-in, I thought we'd agreed that we couldn't do it til at least duty free, but I wasn't arguing - didn't want that hanging over us the whole holiday.
They put the Lion King on on the flight and I drifted off. Started having a crazy dream about roaming around Dartmoor and roaring my head off from the top of tors, woke up bloody growling haha!
Then I remembered they are bit dodgy about alchohol over there so I started necking as much of the wine as I could before touch down, had about 15 of those little bottles falling all over the place around me as we landed.

I like the style here too - reckon Argyle should go with a kind of traditional arab dress for the kit next season - I'll get the missus to knock up some designs to show the lads from Adidas. The lads over here all wear this sort of all-in-one thing, they call it a dishdash - that made me laugh!!!
Think I was still a bit wasted off all that wine, was all over the show trying to find the hotel, got a few funny looks.

Not down 5 minutes and the bloody phones buzzing - WHY WON'T THEY LEAVE ME ALONE! Phone Keith for christsakes, he told me he was going to spend the day listening to his Abba collection today - think he was taking the piss now I'm taking all the flak!

Menu looks cracking at this place & I can't wait to have a meal without sifting through my food to look for a stray pube someone's sneaked into my grub - they get craftier every saturday!

Oh well must dash or should I say dishdash haha! - there's a magician in the Hotel lounge I want to catch - might ask him to make this bloody phone disappear.

home and away 2011/2012?