Post by CIJack on Sept 9, 2005 21:05:16 GMT
Less than a month into the season and the distasteful side of the beautiful game has once more reared its ugly head. Something was telling me this time it was somewhat bigger than the usual biased refs at Lincoln, though.
Thursday 18th, rumblings up in Darlington after their recent match against Leyton Orient led me to visiting a traumatised Quakers boss David Hodgson. “It’s Yeovil all over again, Ian” he told me, struggling to hold onto his coffee mug, his hands shaking so much. “Get onto Curley- legs must be broken.” Poor old Hodgy, he was in a cold sweat and on the verge of breaking down. Curley’s just an amateur though; my sides have battered more players than he’s had court appearances.
Friday 26th, my next stop took me to Rochdale, and Parkin, who looked shattered. “Been up all night convincing Grant that Plymouth is in Wales, think it worked. He believes half the league is now” he grinned. He always was a canny fellow Steve, masterminding those two draws against us last season, for instance. My intuition was already telling me this has something do with Johnson’s lot; which made me even more determined to get the bottom of it.
Tuesday 30th, and on receiving a tip-off of an arranged rendezvous, I was on my way. As I suspected, Johnson was there, to lend his ‘helping hand’. A short discussion, an exchange, and the stern words, “Martin, you must realise none of this must ever come out, or else it threatens to ruin the name of Yeovil Town F.C. as a bastion of integrity and honesty in football.” Either he’d found someone to offload that headless chicken Gall to or something altogether more sinister. I had seen enough.
The case continues.
Your friend, Ian.
Source:League Two Files
And here's a good picture of Mr T*atkins.
.
What's he thinking about, moving down to Devon?
Thursday 18th, rumblings up in Darlington after their recent match against Leyton Orient led me to visiting a traumatised Quakers boss David Hodgson. “It’s Yeovil all over again, Ian” he told me, struggling to hold onto his coffee mug, his hands shaking so much. “Get onto Curley- legs must be broken.” Poor old Hodgy, he was in a cold sweat and on the verge of breaking down. Curley’s just an amateur though; my sides have battered more players than he’s had court appearances.
Friday 26th, my next stop took me to Rochdale, and Parkin, who looked shattered. “Been up all night convincing Grant that Plymouth is in Wales, think it worked. He believes half the league is now” he grinned. He always was a canny fellow Steve, masterminding those two draws against us last season, for instance. My intuition was already telling me this has something do with Johnson’s lot; which made me even more determined to get the bottom of it.
Tuesday 30th, and on receiving a tip-off of an arranged rendezvous, I was on my way. As I suspected, Johnson was there, to lend his ‘helping hand’. A short discussion, an exchange, and the stern words, “Martin, you must realise none of this must ever come out, or else it threatens to ruin the name of Yeovil Town F.C. as a bastion of integrity and honesty in football.” Either he’d found someone to offload that headless chicken Gall to or something altogether more sinister. I had seen enough.
The case continues.
Your friend, Ian.
Source:League Two Files
And here's a good picture of Mr T*atkins.
.What's he thinking about, moving down to Devon?