Previously on Uncle Garty’s Fiendish Scheme
Garty and his evil side kick, Gary Megson have brought BWFC to its knees. Now to deliver one last kick to the temple. Part 3 is Here
The New Year started frustratingly for Garty, as Bolton beat Derby with a Stelios goal in stoppage time. Megson punished the little Greek by not playing him for the next three months. Then he and Garty got together to discuss how to make things worse in the transfer window.
“Anelka`s got to go,” said Megson.
“That was sorted months ago,” replied Garty. “He`s off to Chelsea. We gave them Tal Ben Haim at the start of the season and they`re still a bit peeved about it. This should make amends.”
“I`m surprised you signed Anelka at all,” mused Megson, “he is pretty good you know.”
“That were nowt to do with me,” said Garty, “Allardyce went to Eddie Davies behind my back and borrowed eight million quid. The first I knew about it was when the French git pitched up in the car park.”
“Who are you going to replace him with?” asked Megson.
“No one of course,” beamed Garty.
“Not good enough, said Megson, “if you really want to upset the fans, you have to get someone really rubbish in his place. I had a Polish bloke come to fix a dripping tap yesterday. He`s the slowest person I`ve ever seen.”
“Slower than Kevin Nolan?”
“Much. And it turns out he used to play for Spurs.”
“Did he score for them?” enquired Garty suspiciously.
“He sound`s like our boy then. Get the contracts drawn up.”
That was how Grzegorz Rasiak came to sign for Bolton. He was joined by Matt Taylor from Portsmouth, who had a clause in his contract saying that he wasn`t allowed to score against his former club. Taylor stuck to his side of the bargain, missing a hat-trick of sitters in the game against Pompey. No one told him that it was ok to score against other teams.
Gary Cahill was recruited as well, but this was a mistake. Megson meant to sign Tim Cahill from Everton, knowing that he was out for the rest of the season with a broken foot. The new players had the desired effect. Bolton crashed out of the FA cup, and in the matches that followed, they couldn`t have scored in a brothel. Some fans thought the club`s name had been changed to Bolton-nil.
There was still one problem though. Bolton`s involvement in the UEFA cup had been a source of irritation to Garty all season. Against Bayern Munich they`d been heading for a tonking, until that idiot Ottmar Hitzfeld took Franck Ribéry off. In Belgrade, Gavin McCann was ordered to shoot at the corner flags, but he scored by accident. With a winnable game coming up at Sporting Lisbon, Garty decided to leave nothing to chance. There was only one thing for it.
As Garty`s chauffeur driven stretch limo pulled up at the training ground, Gary Megson was selecting the team, using his usual method. The players were lined up in front of him, arranged in three lines with the smallest at the front.
“Ip dip. You are. Not it.” Megson`s finger came to rest pointing at Heidar Helguson, who walked away, head bowed in disappointment. Once again, he hadn`t made the team.
“Oi, baldy, do one! I`m picking the team this week,” shouted Garty as he strode onto the pitch, his overcoat flapping in the wind.
Garty dismissed all the senior players and told them to take the week off. Then he picked the least experienced of the ones who were left. The last man selected was the most surprised. He`d only come to read the electric meter. Club captain Kevin Nolan met with Garty, the day after in the boardroom to discuss the situation.
“The lads aren`t happy,” said Nolan, “they were looking forward to Lisbon. It`s got some really good nightclubs.” Garty saw his chance to put the finishing touches to his evil plan.
“I`ll tell you what,” he suggested, “why don`t you and the lads come over to my place for a party while the game`s on. The booze and the food is on me.”
The party, as intended, turned into a three day bender. Nolan didn`t attend as he couldn`t get a baby sitter, which explained why there were so many pies left. Not that it mattered, he didn`t need a hangover to be sluggish. Of course, Bolton`s apprentices lost in Lisbon, although the meter reader had a good game and was subsequently signed by Preston.
The players left Garty`s bash, much the worse for wear, and turned up at the JJB Stadium, ten minutes before the match against Wigan. They were unwashed, unshaven, dishevelled and slightly malodorous. It was no surprise that they lost to ten men. Garty didn`t like going to Wigan normally. The place was a hovel and the natives were fat and toothless, which was the consequence of a staple diet consisting of meat pies and Uncle Joe`s Mint Balls. But on that day, he enjoyed himself.
The players were ashamed. They went over to applaud the crowd. The crowd told them to go forth and multiply, or words to that effect. Wicked Uncle Garty sat in the director`s box cackling to himself. Bolton were doomed now. Surely, they couldn`t escape this time.
Or could they?
Uncle Garty`s Fiendish Scheme – Part 4
Previously on Uncle Garty’s Fiendish Scheme