by ionman34 Sat Jul 23 2011, 13:54
Everyone is sick to the back teeth of this drama/saga or whatever you want to call it. But think of this in a different slant;
Aitch and Danny meet one evening in the WHL War room. Picture the scene, it's late, quiet, the War room lit by one desk lamp with the open fire banked and casting off a fitful, flickering light. DL is silhouetted against the firelight casting his features into deep shadow as he methodically casts written 'Gentlemen's agreements' to the hungry flames. Aitch is sat deep into the plush, overstuffed antique Red Leather chair, trilby pulled low, eyes invisible as the low desk light only catches his lower jaw. A lone Grandfather clock tick tock echoes eerily through the corridors, the setting is perfect for plotting and treason.
DL: 'We've had an offer through for Luka Aitch.'
HR: 'We were expecting it Boss. What's the damage?'
DL: 'They're taking the P*ss Aitch, 22 million, no add ons, no sell on, nothing.'
HR: Who's that fackin' Russian fink 'e's dealin' wiv ere Boss? 22 million? You laughed at him I hope?'
DL: I did Aitch, I did. Took a leaf out of your book and told him he was having a bubble. He looked confused for a bit then said he only showers. I've bought us a bit of time as a result and that's why I've called you in tonight............. I have a cunning plan............. And if you call me Baldrick I'll flog you.'
HR: 'Who's Baldrick? Never mind that, what's the cunning plan Boss, you know I'm all up for a bitta skullduggery.'
DL: 'Yes Aitch, yes I do. Well, it goes like this, Those filthy Blue Tossers out West have tapped up our boy and now think they'll be able to low ball us and get him on the cheap because he's unhappy and wants a move. They've brought the Mail in on a saturation campaign, looking to destabilise the club by feeding the fans enough propoganda that they'll turn on our boy and force him out with a hate campaign. Three pronged attack Aitch using finance, behind the back tapping up and 'Meeja' propoganda. Footballing Blitzkrieg if you will.'
HR: 'Huh?'
DL: 'Christ Aitch, sometimes I wonder about you. THEY'RE f*cking US ABAAHHT MY SON!'
HR: 'Ah right, gotcha Boss.'
DL: 'Well the cunning plan is actually quite simple Aitch. We use their own tactics against them. First off I'll be making a statement to the Press that we will not sell our Star players AT ANY PRICE. The Blue twats will, of course, ignore this and return with a further bid. This is where it starts getting cunning Aitch so pay attention.'
HR leans forward casting a greater amount of his face into the desk lamp light and revealing a feral glint in the shadowed eyes.
DL: 'We will refuse this second offer once again, but I will remain in the background whilst you deal with the Press. I want you to make them think that we could well deal if the price is high enough. Spin them a few of your choicest lines like "It's well below my valuation" and "The price is insultingly low", that kind of malarky.'
HR: 'No problemo Boss but, exactly why am I doing this, it makes it look like you and me ain't on the same page, know what I mean?'
DL: 'Precisely Aitch, this is the cunning of the plan. To the Blue Scum, we look like a club divided. It makes it look like there's a weakness they can exploit. If they think the money going high enough might tempt you into pressuring me too then they'll keep at this all Summer and, now here's the kicker, whilst they're doing this, we keep their focus away from getting in someone else to strengthen that area. We play this right, show just the right amount of weakening as the window progresses, we'll keep them rivetted on Luka to the exclusion of all else. Then, just when they think that a big bid at the end of the window will see them land Luka, thereby weakening us hugely, we pull the rug out from under them, leaving them with no midfield creator and a squad of Chelsea pensioners! But we gotta do this right Aitch, keep them interested enough without causing the fans, and Luka, to totally believe that we'll sell. This is where you've got to put in the performance of a lifetime. At some point even the Press will stop believing it'll happen, it's then that you need to put in a soundbite to keep it going. If the Blue Mafia's gaze looks like it's wandering then use the 'meeja' to snap it right back on us. In the meantime, I'll go and get us a couple of strikers and that nippy little fella we looked at over in Barca.
They thought they could f*ck with me? That Russian twonk thinks he's a player because he fleeced a bunch of illiterate Russian Peasants out of their Oil? I fleece bigger Sheep before my Cornflakes.'
HR: 'But, you eat Bagels Boss.'
DL: 'That's not the point Aitch, it's just an expression.'
HR: 'Ah, Righto Boss.'
DL: 'Now, don't forget Aitch, it's imperative that you make it look like you are weakening as the price goes up, the entire strategy hinges on the Blue filth being 100% convinced of that. In the meantime I'll speak with Luka's family and ensure they 'advise' him that staying with Spurs is in his, and their, best interests, both financially and health wise.'
HR: 'Gotcha Boss, Skullduggery and then some eh?'
DL: 'You betcha. These Clowns don't know who they're dealing with here. Ferguson got the message after Berbatov, the Frog stalker is scared shitless to come near me and everyone else, bar this Russki and the Arab, knuckles their forehead in respect whenever I enter a room. I'm gonna teach these douchebags the meaning of respect. I'm gonna play them like a lute and leave them mewling on the ground begging for mercy while I'm kicking dirt in their faces, I'M GONNA HUMBLE THEM!!
Moo...Moooha....Moooowa..... MOOWAHA.....MOOOWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
Let's drink to this Aitch, you and me humbling World Football, Capiche?'
HR: 'No thanks Boss, I'm not really a Coffee drinker, prefer me cuppa Rosey.'
DL: Under his breath,'<God give me strength!>'
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