This week’s paranormal post from the tomb of football is the fifth instalment of ‘The Obituary’ series, where one of our posthumous pundits puts forward a eulogy for their favourite player in football history.
When the fanatical football fiends here at In Off the Ghost are bored, we sometimes think of the stories we heard, read or watched during our days on Earth to pass the time. Seeing as this weekend has been full of international football action, we have had plenty of time to think about our favourite tales. The stories that stay with us the most are the ones from our childhood, we vividly remember hearing about Little Red Riding Hood, Jack and the Beanstalk, or the last time Manchester City won a trophy. How those ancient tales filled us with wonder and amazement.
In fact, these childhood legends had such an impact on us that when we were offered the chance to interview one of our favourite yarn spinners for this week’s Obituary, we jumped at the chance to relive the innocent, ectoplasm free days of our youth. This week’s posthumous pundit wanted to talk to us about Subbuteo sized, former Norwich City, Newcastle United, Tottenham Hotspur and West Bromwich Albion winger Ruel Fox. A cold welcome to former fighter pilot, screen writer and famous children’s writer, Roald Dahl!
“Hello my fellow Hornswagglers!” started Dahl, jiggling about with child-like excitement, “I want to tell you about my favourite ever footballer, Fantastic Mr. Ruel Fox. He was a player so fast he ran as if he was being pushed along by atomic whizzpoppers! When he was at Norwich City, he was the most wonderous whangdoodle in the Premier League. A great player in a great team with Chris Sutton, Jeremy Goss and of course the BFG, Bryan ‘Fantabulous’ Gunn. He could do it all, cross, score goals and he dribbled more than a kid chewing on a block of ‘Willy Wonka’s Super Sticky Stickjaw Toffee’. When he left to join Kevin Keegan’s Newcastle United it seemed like a dream come true for our Mr. Fox, but things started to go a bit wrong. Football managers are complicated creatures, full of quirks and secrets. Why Keegan lost faith in Mr. Fox, my dear readers, we will never know. He was a wonderful player, he just needed his manager to believe in his magic. But some people absolutely refuse to believe in anything unless they are actually seeing it right in front of their own schnozzles. So Keegan signed David ‘Champion of the World’ Ginola, and sent poor Mr. Fox packing to Spurs and Gerry Francis.
“Mr. Fox flourished for a while thanks to Gerry’s Marvellous Medicine, but nasty George Graham took over as boss and eventually he stopped playing Mr. Fox too. Quite frankly, I think Mr. Graham was a twit. He was born a twit and when he sold Mr. Fox at the age of fifty-five, he was a bigger twit than ever. Nasty old George Graham got the boot not long after, but two rights don’t equal a left.”
“So our Mr. Fox ended up at West Brom, and he played like he would’ve rather been fried alive and eaten by Mexicans. Mr. Fox could’ve had a glittering career if it wasn’t for the Schnozzlebonkers who always said ‘I’m right and you’re wrong, I’m big and you’re small, and there’s nothing you can do about it.’”
“He may not have won many trophies or prizes, but to me Mr. Fox will always be fantastic.”
(All material in this blog is entirely fictional and does not represent the views or opinions of anyone, alive or dead, other than those of the author.)