BATTING FOR BRITAIN: The country’s world beating sports fan, Boris Johnson, is striding to the middle, racquet in hand, to enter the scrum. To emphasise his man of the people credentials, he has declared a lifelong love of Manchester Wanderers.
He goes to soccer matches all the time, he claims. When he goes, he takes his mate, Burnley Ham Villa fan, “Dodgy” Dave Cameron.
Johnson painted an evocative picture of two old mates cheering on Roy of the Rovers netting his weekly hat-trick. It could easily have been depicted on one of his famous wine box paintings.
“Dave and I have spent many a Saturday afternoon in the grandstand at Maine Street,” he boasted. “Always at the, erm, yes, well, erm, the Piccadilly end, with our rattles and our sky blue pink club ties!”
And in the modern era?
“Oh, yes, erm, no, erm, wiff waff,” he waffled confidently. “Yes, they changed their stadium, didn’t they? Old Trafford to New Trafford? Splendid stuff, I say, yes, we often go and have a few glasses of claret and some foie gras during the interval, just like millions of other ordinary fans!”
What’s your opinion on the European Super League business?
“Well, erm, no, yes, well, it’s just not cricket, is it?” he replied. “I mean, a few clubs with more ego than sense, a glorious past but an uncertain future, thinking they are better than everyone else and cutting themselves off from their fans, just so their owners can get richer? It’s despicable. Despicable, I say!”
If only there were some kind of parallel in global economics.
“And it’s European, so it must be bad by definition!” Johnson spluttered. “Association soccer ball will be ruined for ordinary fans like me!”
And who do you think will win the FA Cup this season?
“Erm, yes, erm, well, the thing is…” he improvised, and quickly shambled off to hide in the nearest fridge.