Previously on Uncle Garty`s Fiendish Scheme
Wicked Uncle Garty has disposed of both Sams for being too good is now zeroing in on the man to take Bolton backward. Part 2 is Here
To anyone else, prising a manager away from a club he`d just joined might have proved difficult, but Garty had a vast network of contacts. A week earlier he`d spoken to Milan Mandaric, chairman of Leicester City. The pair had been friends for years, having run molasses out of Cuba in the prohibition era. Mandaric wasn`t happy.
“It`s that Gary Megson,” he explained, “I only gave him the job a few weeks ago and already the fans want him out. That`s the last time I appoint a manager when I`ve been drinking.” Garty thought of that conversation as he dialled his old chum`s number.
“Milan? It`s Garty here. I think I`ve got a solution to your problem.” Mandaric was delighted.
“You do realise he`s under contract don`t you? It`ll cost Bolton £300,000.”
“No problem,” laughed Garty, “It`s not as though it`s my money is it?”
The day after, Garty was in his favourite seat, at the head of the boardroom table, when there was a knock at the door.
“Phil Gartside?” asked the shambling figure who entered the room.
“The one and only,” said Garty, “hello baldy.”
“You wanted to see me.”
“I did,” replied Garty, stroking the large white cat that sat in his lap. He`d always liked James Bond films, but found himself drawn to the villains. “Here`s the deal. You get a two and a half year contract and we pay you two million quid. All you need to do is get Bolton relegated.”
“Piece of piss,” said Gary Megson, “but it won`t take me that long.”
If Garty thought that things were going to be straightforward, he was mistaken. Bolton went unbeaten in the league for a few games, and then they triumphed over Manchester United.
“What the bloody hell, do you think you`re doing!” shouted Garty, suddenly morphing into Victor Meldrew. “we haven`t beaten that lot at home for thirty years.”
“Relax,” said Megson, “I have done this sort of thing before you know. You want Bolton fans to be really unhappy don`t you?”
“Er, yeah?”
“Cool it then. I`m just lulling them into a false sense of security. That way they`ll be even more upset when it all goes pear shaped. You should see what I`ve got planned for the transfer window.”
Megson was as good as his word. A 4-0 thumping at Liverpool followed. He`d noticed that the defence was much better with Andy O`Brien in the side, so he dead legged him in training. He also attempted to lose to both Birmingham and Wigan at home, but they were so bad it was impossible. The away defeat at Manchester City was easy though, achieved with a generous dose of laxative in O`Brien`s pre-match whiskey.
At the end of year, Bolton were on the slide again, a mere one point above the relegation zone. A month before, Megson had been feted as the Ginger Mourhino. Now he was back to being the Ginger Wazzock. As 2008 dawned, he was to prove himself the evil genius that Garty had hoped for.
The final part is Here
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