The Flying Physio Room Summertime Special 2019 Part 2

Our legendary writer, the brilliant and outstanding Darren Harry, deemed to come down from his special planet and grace us with some of his unique observations that are believe it not related to West Ham United, here is part 2.

Thursday 27 July 2019…03:23….Santiago, Chile….Cool, damp, misty…air tinged with cigar smoke and distance car horns…Pell woke for the 2nd time. For the second time he took that well-worn path round the side of the bed to the bathroom. For the second time he fumbled in the dark, aimed in the general direction of the bowl and relaxed……..a few dribbles……”Is that it? Seriously?” Pell looked accusingly down at his withered member. It too was likely still asleep. The bladder is a cruel mistress. Pell returned to the 4 poster.

His wife snored blissfully unaware of his torment. Pell sat and rubbed his eyes.Taking one out of each socket at a time he polished them.These old faithful’s has seen much during his 66 years on this planet (although he’d rarely seen a less gifted technical player than Antonioe make it at the highest level, so it shows every day is a school day). Pell gave a squirt of WD40 into the sockets and replaced the old faithful’s to their rightful home. His brain was ticking now, as always happens when one is rudely interrupted in the night.

The defence had little room for manoeuvre budget wise but he really wanted to address it. Teams didn’t leak that amount of goals unless there is an issue there. Sure, Fabpantski had been incredible, but that made it slightly more worrying if he were injured. If his first choice paring were out, that became an Achilles heel, and Pell didn’t like that. The midfield was almost where he wanted it, a mixture of flair and guile. The rise of Dec had been a blessing. He cared little for protecting defenders and would rather attack, but the PL had proved you need insurance policies. Games went 95 minutes.

The forward line was now critical. He resolved to call Sully in the morning. He needed more ammunition. The much heralded sweet pea had become a Blackadder fan and was now one step away from wearing a pair of pants on his head and sticking a pencil up his nose. Arnie had more advisors than Trump and didn’t know what way was up let alone where the goal was. He needed a goal scorer and Sully needed to move heaven and earth to deliver. Whatever it took!

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