The Gaffer's Photo Casebook
 

During the week I phoned you up and asked you to come to the match at the weekend when we were meeting Asian opponents we knew little about in a crucial World Cup playoff.

I reckoned that your experience of Asian football would be invaluable to us.

I was surprised that you didn't turn up when you said that you would.

It was only on Sunday evening that I discovered that you had turned up for the rugby match against Samoa on Sunday instead of the soccer match against Iran on Saturday!

I know that you were thoroughly embarrassed and inconvenienced, Gaffer. What can I do to make it up to you?

Big Mac

Big Mac, 

It's a bleeding disgrace what you put me through. Never in all my years of coaching have I seen such scenes. Ireland beat the Samoans by a margin of about 30 points, and the team was in jubilant mood.

They asked me if I wanted to come with them on their celebratory booze orgy down in the Berkely Court Hotel. I was so mad about the mix-up, I almost didn't go.

Anyway, off we went to the hotel. After a dozen pints or so, the rugger lads started to get rowdy. In the finest rugger tradition, they started this drinking game where before you could drink your pint, you had to dip a certain part of your anatomy into it that I shall leave to your imagination. (Nippers may be reading this, after all.) 

Anyway, I wasn't too impressed, and I only did it myself a couple of times. Trouble was, the second time I did it, me wife Babs walked into the room at the crucial time. When she saw what I was up to, she stormed out in a huff. She's refused to speak to me since. I'm really in the doghouse this time.

I'll tell you how to make this up to me, Big Mac. Quadruple the coaching fee you offered me. That should allow me to recoup the losses I shall have to incur getting Babs back onside!