Posted on Goonersphere

        Stage Curtains open

                    The Stage is pitch black

                    Suddenly, a sole spotlight beams on a lonely figure,

                    on their knees. This desperate looking figure arcs his

                    neck to the heavens, clad in his Arsenal jersey and

                    offers up an anguished prayer……

Gooner:         ” I can’t take any more!! The constant links to different players, the lying, the soulless accounts who plague every single social network! Oh Sky Sports News Ticker, I pray you hear my desolate wails! I offer my soul for some legitimate news!!”

                    The lights from above stage simultaneously turn on

                    revealing a backdrop of computer monitors, newspaper

                    headlines, TV’s and radio’s. Smothering the Gooner

                    are a ragtag group of individuals, seemingly with their

                    own agenda……

                    Jaunty strings from the orchestra provide a musical

                    backing track to the scene.

Suited Man:         ” Click on my link to reveal news on £50m record signing!!”

Fat Man with stained T-shirt:     ” Read about odds shortened for Goetze to join Gunners!”

Skinny Teenager:    ” Benzema spotted in Holloway Road buying a Thierry Henry pie from Piebury Corner! Medical tomorrow! ”

                    The voices clamour for purchase and attention,

                    jostling to get their sordid wares heard.

                    A cacophony of names and teams litter the air;

                    Benzema, Cavani, Goetze, Carvalho, PSG, Bayern,


                    “STOP RIGHT THERE!!!”

                    A voice from offstage causes everyone to look for the


                    Enter Stage Right – Suited Bald Man.

                    His gait as he enters view indicates that he may indeed

                    possess big potatoes, or at least he believes so….

Suited Bald Man:        ” Right, hold up. I’ve got PROPER Arsenal news for ya. Ya know why? Because I ( jabs himself in the chest with his extended thumb ) talk to Theo Walcott through my cousin Gary. Gary cleans Theo’s pool every Thursday. Get this, Cavani is deffo coming to Arsenal. Don’t listen to these plebs and click on my link. I’ll bring news to you first hand! You can trust me, I’m an insider with the inside track!”

                    The Gooner shifts toward the bald, suited man. He starts

                    to fight his way through the crowd….

                    ” STOP IT!!!”

                    Another voice from offstage, this one though, is

                    searingly high. It stops all in their tracks.


                    Enter Stage Left

                    A woman possessing an inordinate amount of

                    curves enters our view. Her attention grabbing cleavage

                    seems to dance to its own beat as she walks. The

                    tightest of Real Madrid tops only serve to highlight

                    her eye-popping chest. She starts to speak and everyone


Jaine:        ” ( in a thick Latino accent ) Ola!! I am Jaine, with a ridiculously needless ‘i’ in the centre of my name, just to let everyone know how original I am. I have REAL news for you as I am a true insider at the Bernabeu. Benzema is currently in London for his 28th medical ahead of a £128m move. Trust me. If I speak not the truth, I will give everyone a signed photo of my gorgeous derriere! Hala Madrid! ”

                    She blows a kiss, then plucks out a smartphone from

                    her pocket. She then proceeds to pose seductively

                    before taking 348 selfies and uploading them to


                    The Gooner, in a state of reverie, clambers from the

                    crowd, and the orchestra kick in with lilting flutes.

                    He starts to reach out to Jaine…..

                    “I HAVE THE POWER!!!!!!”

                    This booming sound emanates from offstage and startles

                    all, even stopping Jaine, who is now mud-wrestling

                    herself whilst cameras film her. After the voice has

                    finished reverberating around the arena, a figure waddles

                    onto stage…

                    Enter Stage Left

                    From the left slopes an overweight man dressed entirely

                    in a grubby tracksuit. The flutes stop and a tuba begins

                    to play as he walks. His hair is cut into a bowl shape and

                    he is followed onto stage by a horde of cowering,

                    mindless idiots. They seem to hang on his every word…

Fairthorne:        ” Behold! I am Ben Fairthorne! ( A host of trumpets herald his name ) I believe you are all familiar with my name. Thanks to me, you have all been bestowed with such gifts as ‘ Yann M’Vila moving to Arsenal 89 times ‘ and other transfer news of such a nature that it renders all jaws to hit the floor! I bring you the ‘news’ before ANYONE else!! Pedro to United? That was me. Being an ex-football agent has given me the most direct lines of communication to the power players of football. Bow to me and I will grant you all the links you desire”

                    His hordes immediately start to bow and make a

                    noise eerily similar to a badger having vinegar strokes.

                    They then begin to clap maniacally, before handing a

                    phone, one by one, through to Fairthorne.

Fairthorne:         ” Excuse me, I think this must be Ivan Gazidis. He’s been pestering me ALL day. I must take this. You understand.”

                    He turns away from the stage front and raises the

                    phone to his ear.

Fairthorne:         ” IVAN!! How are you my old m…….”

            He now speaks in more reserved tones, but still audible…

            ” Yes mother, I’ll be home for Homes Under the Hammer. Of course I have put lotion on it. No mother, I haven’t scratched it. Yes mother. Mmm-hmm, I’ve got to go. Ok, I’ll have turkey dinosaurs, but cut the heads off the Triceratops, I don’t like them. OK, OK, OK, I’ve got to go……….I love you too mumsy”

                    He wheels around, red-faced. He clears his throat. The

                    drums section accompany him with panache….

Fairthorne:        ” Ahem! That was just another source at Chelsea. They ALL want to talk to me! Yeah, you heard it here first, Ronaldo to the Bridge!!”

                    Jaine, now finished with the mud-wrestling but now

                    photocopying her buttcheeks and giving them to the

                    willing crowd, is awoken from her one-lady publicizing

                    campaign at the mere mention of Cristiano....

Jaine:             ” Hhhow dare you! ALL news from Madrid goes through ME!! I was going to announce that in conjunction with 4 photos of me in the gym on Twitter! I must now end you so I can get ALL the retweets!!!”

                    She runs toward Fairthorne, who is frozen at the prospect

                    of a woman finally touching him. She lets out a battlecry,

                    checks her hair mid-run before launching herself at him

                    and his cohorts.

                    Chaos ensues. The orchestra cut in with a mash of

                    strings and woodwinds, with a booming bass drum only adding to the tension.

                   Amidst the anarchy, the bald, suited man speaks to the    

                   seething masses…..

Bald, Suited Man:    ” You’re taking clicks away from me!! This is MY area!! I’m the  ITK Daddy rahnd ‘ere! I need another thousand followers to click on my link for Lewandowski transferring to Swindon!  It’s fackin on now!!”

                    He cartwheels toward the bundle of arms, legs and

                    torsos, and then dives straight in….

                    The initial crowd who had enveloped the Gooner were

                    now enraptured by the ITK Battle Royale. They all circled

                    the fight and began to click their fingers rhythmically, in

                    unison. The orchestra then added their own touch with

                    a duo of pianos.

                    The spotlight and focus shifts to the Gooner. Now stood

                    all alone with his smartphone in hand, on the precipice

                    of indecision…

The Gooner:        ” Madrid, Benzema, Cavani, PSG, United, Silva, Goetze, Carvalho….What do I do? Who do I believe?”

                    A chorus of angelic singing and harps cut the air and drown out the noise on stage from the savage keyboard

                    war. From above, Natalie Sawyer is hovered down thanks

                    to stage apparatus. The lights, on cue, shine on her,

                    giving her a holy impression.

Natalie Sawyer:     ” Fear not, weary Gooner! You offered a prayer to the Sky Sports News Ticker, and here I am to aid you and your team as you aid me in every single online poll on Sky Sports. You may ask your question….”

                    Now complete silence shrouds everything. The fight

                    freezes and the sole light returns to the Gooner, who

                    closes his slack jaw and gulps. He then speaks…

Gooner:         ” Who should I listen to for real news on my club?”

                    Natalie Sawyer outstretches her arms and the light

                    returns to her….

Natalie Sawyer:    ” Heed me Gooner and heed me well. These fucking buffoons have no worthy news. They are just spouting bullshit which they thought might get Arsenal fans biting. Seeing as the Gunners have an overwhelming online presence, the more spurious links that involve your club, the better the number of clicks they generate. The garbage they permeate through every area of the web is derived from their own ego. They have no ‘insider’ knowledge, but their sad existence means they believe they do. Ignore these fucking idiots. If Arsenal sign anyone, it’ll be officially announced and none of these prats will be any the wiser. Take my advice, Gooner. Click not on these poisonous links. Fare thee well….”

                    Natalie Sawyer is hoisted back above and then out

                    of view.

                    The Gooner puts his smartphone away. He then looks at

                    the mess of human bodies that represented the fight

                    that had started again. He then exits Stage Right.

                    The Brawl continues….

                    All of a sudden, a car enters rapidly from the right of the

                    stage. It then flies straight into the mass of idiots,

                    thus ending their reign of tyranny, hyperbole and

                    annoying pleas for attention.


                    Until the next transfer window…….