Look here you geezers and dopeheads. You think I care a flying f about what you think. I’m the one who paid the money. Me and that Gold codger. I’m trying to run this club on a financial basis, that is to say, I mean to squeeze every last pound out of it.
Some of you dumbnuts think we should still be at The Boleyn, so you could eat your pie and mash and jellied eels and have a few pints before the game at the local. Then, after the game you enjoyed a punch up. Your type were the ones who attacked the Manchester United coach when they were late to the ground in our last season at the ground.
Now we are in our new ground where the gentry and other foreigners can come and see games. And all I get is the few yobs who are left throwing coins at me and Goldie, so now we have to sit behind a glass screen. The brilliant Karen, a top business women and lord, negotiated a super deal. She wanted us to change our name to Olympic West Ham. A brilliant idea we had to shelves because of you antediluvians.
All we get is ‘We’re too far from the pitch’ and ‘There’s no atmosphere’ and ‘It’s an athletics stadium’. So, it’s an athletics stadium, as if that is my fault. All that counts is that some Arab setting in his palace in the desert is going to pay us a heap of money ,’cos all he knows it that our ground is an Olympic stadium.
And you don’t realise how much we are suffering in the Covid 19 crisis. I can’t flog my retail properties and some bastards are not even paying their rent. I’m probably down to my last hundred million. That’s what I call suffering. And Goldie is in an even worse position. His business, which provides the country with implements of pleasure is almost bust out of site. The man’s probably going to move opposite the ground where he started and he’s ordered a three wheel scooter.
And didn’t I give the so-called fans what they wanted and brought in a top-class manager. Personally, I couldn’t understand a word he was saying. He even had difficulty giving me his bank details. And he brought in his friend to buy some top players. I regret I let go, ‘cos I could have got some superb loan deals and older players out of contract on their last legs. Instead, we got dross, some of whom wouldn’t get a place in our womens’ team.
As to the players, I’m paying those morons millions a year and some of them don’t even seem to be bothered. I wouldn’t mind whipping the lot of them.
Anyway, Karen tells me the club is worth £800 million.She’s going to ask that bint who tried to do the Newcastle deal to see if there’s any more Arabs around. After all, how many rich Arabs have you seen in Newcastle. They want to come to London, so they can live a lifestyle they can’t get in the desert.
Anyway, suckers, I’m off next year for sure and you’ll be left with some Arab or American billionaire and you’ll be crying out for the glory days when Sullivan was in charge.
[Note from Iain: And they say satire is dead… Obviously Gary is speaking for himself, not the site]