Welcome to the Martyrdome

[Mandy42]

As press conferences go this was a 1st, even for this part of the world. The new manager had arrived late, and in the company of an unexpected companion. Yet the few assembled journalists had waited patiently, and boy were they in for a treat.

"Do they not have watches in England?" The cross the border hazing started immediately, well... they had been waiting a while.

"They do," The new manager replied without missing a beat as he pulled out a chair, that his companion promptly hopped onto. "Though where I come from we don't name our football stadiums after housing estates, my sat nav took me to Mrs Jones house at number 1 Penydarren Park."

"Ehm... didn't you notice you were in the wrong place?"

"Well obviously... but I needed to use the facilities, Mrs Jones was more than accommodating, though she needs nicer toilet paper, feel like I've just sand blasted my crack."

This statement was met with more than a few moments of silence and clearing of throats.

"So why, other than Mrs Jones hospitality did you decide to apply for a job at Mertyr Town?"

"You mean, why in my right mind did WE," There is a moment as he makes an inclusive gesture that takes in himself and his companion, "Want to come and manage in the arse end of the Brecon Beacons? Well, the short answer is, the internet told me to."

"Excuse me?"

"Did you know, Rudolf Hess attended greyhound racing here? if it's good enough for the deputy Fuhrer of the 3rd Reich, then it is good enough for me." There wasn't even the sound of clearing throats now, just the silence of blank stares and much blinking. The companion took this moment to vigorously scratch his ear. "Also, during the Roman occupation, this site was used as their military camp, this place has history, who wouldn't want to manage here!"

"You said, the internet told you to come here?" One of the journalists managed to reengage his brain into 1st gear.

"Indeed, you know that movie, with the fat guy and thin guy, the penguin, they are on a mission from god, has loads of awesome music in it."

"The Blues Brothers?"

"Carrie Fisher with a rocket launcher, man if that doesn't give you wood I've no idea what will.... anyway, it's like that, you can't see god, you can't see the internet, but people see fit to believe both exist."

"Are you comparing the internet to religion?"

"Religion is anything that an individual chooses to pursue with great faith and devotion, my personal religions are football and rock music. We will build a church here, and in the immortal words of the prophet Bon Scott, it's a long way to the top....."

Finally his companion broke his silence, with an almighty bark, the ginger terrier standing on his chair and wagging his tail wildly. ".... if you want a sausage roll, that's exactly right Morris."

With that, the press conference came to an end. 

 

 

So yes, I intend to attempt the dafuge challenge of bringing a previously unmanageable team to the pinnacle of domestic and European dominance.

I intend to offset this rather serious and lofty pursuit by fooling around with religion, rock and roll, and my dog Morris

As there is nothing more rock and roll than wearing a bra as a bib.

 

 

 

 

[Mandy42]

Edguy says, that "Pain is the guide out of the wasteland". Once you get over the fact that nobody in the band is actually a guy named Ed, it becomes sound advice.

Wales and Wasteland are comprised of the same letters, coincidence? I think not. Pain will be our guide out of here.

 

I went back round to Mrs Jones, I enquired after her brand of toilet paper, and voila we have a new sponsor.

The players will have no choice but to train, and play harder, once their backsides are too tender to sit down!

There is a lot more required on there than I would like.

But oh well

 

 

[Mandy42]

*Bunch of P****'s* Morris growls at me as the players limp and whimper off the training pitch at the end of yet another 2 a day training session. *In my day we worked harder than this, and still had energy left to pound that sweet piece of tail next door come the end of the day* I am just glad none of the players can hear him. He swaggers off, probably to swing his manhood round the shower room again before hitting the town later. I just hope his dominance over the players gets results.

We got results, though they came at a price, yes the players are ready for the new season, but we lost on average a player per game to injury.

I toned down the intensity of the friendlies by dialling back the mentality (there is no toning down Morris)

We brought in a shed load of players in order to ensure we got somewhere close to being able to rotate two full 11s of players for the long season.

Hopefully a good marker for where we will be, is the FC United game 2nd, as they came up with us.

[Mandy42]

Morris' dominance over the players continues. He has demanded that by the end of the season every player has a nickname.

*It dehumanises them, turns them from whiny Welsh people into soldiers.*

We will see...

The 1st two he picks on are Ben Swallow, who Morris has had a beef about since the 1st game of preseason, when he hobbled off with pulled knee ligaments

*He best not be hobbling across the car park when I get to him... I'll show him pulled knee ligaments when I bite him on his other knee!*

Once Ben returned to training and played in a few friendly matches, his unwillingness to part with the ball is what coined his name, Morris named him "Spitz"

Our only other player Morris deemed worthy of a name is Nana Owusu, after he made his debut for the club and was sent off for two yellow card offences.

*Banana* Morris chuckled at the end of the game.

"Don't you think that might hold a rather racist connotation  too it? He is after all from Ghana?"

*Only in your tiny mind Neil, his name is Nana, and his name is always in yellow on your little notepad there... simple BANANA* (I do indeed have a notepad on which I scribble down cards etc in different colours, it is very therapeutic!

 

After the opening day defeat to Farsley I feared it would be a long and painful season attempting to keep us in the division.

However on balance we have had a fabulous 1st month.

Dropping 2 points away to Telford due to conceding a penalty in the 94th minute was infuriating.

However our 93rd minute winner against Lemmington restored some of my faith.

I am not convinced we can maintain a playoff spot all season but we are well on our way to avoiding the relegation we are required to.

I think I have identified Morris' favourite player...

Banana by name, Banana by nature.

On paper an easier month next month, with 3 of the bottom 4 to play.

 

 

[ManUtd1]

Lovely start! Followed for sure!

[Mandy42]

On 25/04/2020 at 16:53, ManUtd1 said:

Lovely start! Followed for sure!

Thanks, pesky hospital work has gotten in the way of me continuing.

Morris is not impressed!

[Nobby_McDonald]

Good start in Merthyr.

[Mandy42]

Everyday is like Sunday, standing at the side of the pitch, on another cold, wet and grey Merthyr Monday, I wonder whether that whining sod Morrissey had lived here for a time while writing it! It might be grey though it isn't silent, Morris is dancing around a member of the backroom staff, in all honesty I don't even know which one, I doubt Morris even knows his name, he's called him C***womble pretty much since the incident, added words like "Fat, hairy and raging" in front of it, but always C***womble.

*We aren't playing tiki taki toe, or whatever the kids call it these days, this is the flaming Vanarama North, it's 4-4-2, one big one, and a little one up top, if it was good enough to get that donkey Emile Heskey into the England squad, it's bloody good enough for us!*

C**kwomble is looking at me, while Morris snaps and snarls at his ankles, in the distance the players are warming down, all with tracksuits on to keep the rain off, we would be better training when it wasn't raining, if it ever wasn't raining. Morris is once more displaying his dominance over everyone, refusing to wear a coat, instead periodically stopping to shake off excess water all over C***womble.

*Look at them! What is wrong with this picture! perhaps you letting our only player over 6ft get cropped in our first friendly game! How do you propose we play with one big one and one little one when we are stuck with that bunch of Welsh circus midgets?!?!?! Get out of my sight before I bite your balls off.*

A few hours later and we are sat in the office, well it's a porter cabin at one end of the ground, the players have taken to calling it "The Kennel" or "The Doghouse," just not anywhere near where Morris might hear them. Speaking of Morris, he has dragged every player through here and had me mark out their height on the wall like children.

*Get your arse against the wall! No I'm not taking your word for it, you probably count your balls when measuring out your ***** to try impress the ladies. Get down off your tip toes! Blazing ball sacks give me strength.*

This goes on for a while, until one lad stokes his interest.

*You there, with the 5 and a half hat size, you have all the hallmarks of a bloody hero! what's your name? ........ Jones.... of course it is, seems I can't cock my leg for a **** around here without hitting a Jones... How do you feel about using that billboard forehead and almost 6ft frame to propel us up the table? ..... What do you mean you're more comfortable playing on the wing? Your arse will be decidedly uncomfortable sitting on the bench unless you play up top! Besides, look at Peter Crouch, you think he'd have bagged that bird of his sitting on the bench? Take it from me lad, being on the pitch you've got more chance of scoring, in every sense of the word...... What do you mean you're married? What do I look like a relationship councilor, get out.... get some heading practice.*