Sean the Blade
Member
Harry Gration stood up, as the new owner of Sheffield United entered the room “Der-der-der-don’t stand on my account Harry. G-G-G-Granville, get Mister G-G-G-Gration a cup of tea!”
“So Mister Arkwright…”
“C-c-c-call me Arkwright Harry”
“Arkwright, what plans have you for the club?”
“Pr-pr-pr-pr…”
“Premiership?”
“No, profit!”
“Profit? That’s ambitious for any football club”
“Not at all Harry, it just needs the application of a shopkeeper’s years of experience. G-G-GRANVILLE WHERE’S THAT TEA?! His mother were never scared to give strangers summat w-w-wet and warm”
The door was pushed open and a tray held by Granville entered the room, he placed the tray on the table “Help yourself to biscuits Mr Gration” Arkwright looked down at the tray, turned puce, stood up, took Granville by the ear, and lead him from the room. Once outside he hissed “Hob-nobs! N-n-n-not only Hob-nobs but che-che-che-chocolate ones! For the BBC!? I told you they were for the men from S-S-S-Sky!”
“But HE’s Harry Gration, a broadcasting legend”
“HE’s a broadcasting legend…. eating MY HOB-NOBS! N-n-n-now get in there and get ‘em off him before he eats too many!”
Granville snatched the plate from under Harry’s hand, just as he reached for an extra valuable cream filled biscuit “Sorry Harry” Granville apologiesed “But Ida the pot washer wants the plate”
“So, Arkwright, how are you going to organise your backroom staff?”
“Well, G-G-G-Granville will be our cer-cer-cer-commercial director…”
“So Birch is on his bike?”
“Yes, well G-G-Granville’s bike to be exact!”
“And what about team affairs?”
“There’ll be no aff-aff-affairs in M-M-MY team Harry, we’re not a p-p-posh Ler-London club, all our b-b-boys will be the epitome of marital fidelity, especially after they’ve been on N-N-Nurse Gladys’ treatment table”
“Have you any European ambitions?”
“YOU-YOU-EUROPEAN!? Them so-and-so’s cost me a new set of shop scales! We’ll not be having any Fer-Fer-Fer-Frenchie messing about with our good old fashioned imperial football here!”
“So you wouldn’t want to see the Blades running out on some foreign field”
“N-N-N-Not unless they’ve got a tin hat and a Ber-Bren gun!”
“How do you plan to turn around the team’s current mis-fortunes?”
“Well I remember Micky when he was a little lad, pinchin pop bottles from round the shop yard, then bringing ‘em back for the deposits”
“Did he? What did you do?”
“I’ve docked his wages this month … plus interest” Arkwright rubbed his hands “But I learned a valuable l-l-lesson, keep safe at the back!”
“Is there going to any activity in the transfer market?”
“I can’t make any promises, United have always been a se-se-selling club, but I can see that ending as of now”
“Why is that?”
“Well, Kevin had already sold all the players worth owt, the cu-cu-cu, the cu-cu-…”
“Cupboard’s bare!” interjected Granville. He leaned and whispered into Arkwright’s ear. “I’m very sorry, that’s all we have time for Harry” said Arkwright, as he escorted Harry out of the door.
“Right Granville, s-s-s-straighten yer tie, ger-ger-get the Hob-Nobs and the best china out, and butter ser-ser-some So-So-Soreen, the man from Ser-Sky’s here!”
“So Mister Arkwright…”
“C-c-c-call me Arkwright Harry”
“Arkwright, what plans have you for the club?”
“Pr-pr-pr-pr…”
“Premiership?”
“No, profit!”
“Profit? That’s ambitious for any football club”
“Not at all Harry, it just needs the application of a shopkeeper’s years of experience. G-G-GRANVILLE WHERE’S THAT TEA?! His mother were never scared to give strangers summat w-w-wet and warm”
The door was pushed open and a tray held by Granville entered the room, he placed the tray on the table “Help yourself to biscuits Mr Gration” Arkwright looked down at the tray, turned puce, stood up, took Granville by the ear, and lead him from the room. Once outside he hissed “Hob-nobs! N-n-n-not only Hob-nobs but che-che-che-chocolate ones! For the BBC!? I told you they were for the men from S-S-S-Sky!”
“But HE’s Harry Gration, a broadcasting legend”
“HE’s a broadcasting legend…. eating MY HOB-NOBS! N-n-n-now get in there and get ‘em off him before he eats too many!”
Granville snatched the plate from under Harry’s hand, just as he reached for an extra valuable cream filled biscuit “Sorry Harry” Granville apologiesed “But Ida the pot washer wants the plate”
“So, Arkwright, how are you going to organise your backroom staff?”
“Well, G-G-G-Granville will be our cer-cer-cer-commercial director…”
“So Birch is on his bike?”
“Yes, well G-G-Granville’s bike to be exact!”
“And what about team affairs?”
“There’ll be no aff-aff-affairs in M-M-MY team Harry, we’re not a p-p-posh Ler-London club, all our b-b-boys will be the epitome of marital fidelity, especially after they’ve been on N-N-Nurse Gladys’ treatment table”
“Have you any European ambitions?”
“YOU-YOU-EUROPEAN!? Them so-and-so’s cost me a new set of shop scales! We’ll not be having any Fer-Fer-Fer-Frenchie messing about with our good old fashioned imperial football here!”
“So you wouldn’t want to see the Blades running out on some foreign field”
“N-N-N-Not unless they’ve got a tin hat and a Ber-Bren gun!”
“How do you plan to turn around the team’s current mis-fortunes?”
“Well I remember Micky when he was a little lad, pinchin pop bottles from round the shop yard, then bringing ‘em back for the deposits”
“Did he? What did you do?”
“I’ve docked his wages this month … plus interest” Arkwright rubbed his hands “But I learned a valuable l-l-lesson, keep safe at the back!”
“Is there going to any activity in the transfer market?”
“I can’t make any promises, United have always been a se-se-selling club, but I can see that ending as of now”
“Why is that?”
“Well, Kevin had already sold all the players worth owt, the cu-cu-cu, the cu-cu-…”
“Cupboard’s bare!” interjected Granville. He leaned and whispered into Arkwright’s ear. “I’m very sorry, that’s all we have time for Harry” said Arkwright, as he escorted Harry out of the door.
“Right Granville, s-s-s-straighten yer tie, ger-ger-get the Hob-Nobs and the best china out, and butter ser-ser-some So-So-Soreen, the man from Ser-Sky’s here!”
