Gollum, Steve Clarke, Big head Bruce, Gollum again, Hughton, Wenger, 'Arry, Uncle Dave Whelan, Gollum again and many, many more. All working tirelessly until the very last chime on the Sky Sports clock making sure they had deals that fell through at the last minute so they didn't have to fork out any money. Rodgers? Wining and fucking dining at some fancy do. See the pictures of him with a nice glass of bubbly? No Asti for him, a proper champagne like Louis Delaunay even though it's not on offer for a tenner in Tesco at the moment. And he probably had a Chicken Kiev or some other exotic foreign food, probably an a la carte chef one and not a Bernard Matthews four for £3 in Iceland one, with new potatoes that didn't come out of a tin. All buckshee on the company's fucking credit card, and not even one where he could get Nectar points. Proper managers throughout the land were pretending to work their arses off to save money while they're all starving hungry, keeping their clubs in profit by not frittering away the club's money on Spam Fritters and a can of Fanta. But Brendan big bollocks is out wasting our good money on a posh scran. The fucking twat. No wonder we're a shite club with a shite net spend. We've got a shite manager.
Mr Creosote Out!
