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Pompey boss talks to the two groups & decides who will take the £250 p/w 'prize'
It was that time of year again, time to assess the dozen apprentices, and who had made it onto the retained list, and also to break the hearts of those who wouldn't be getting a professional contract.
First of all, the meeting of all 12, with McGarvey flanked by the Youth Development Manager - Liam 'Baroness' Brady, and his assistant, Claude 'to death' Reigns. They were the usual suspects alright...
In front of them stood a motley crew, 12 teenage wannabe's, of various colour, creed, height, spot ratio, in shiny, ill-fitting suits - teamed with oversized shirts & a lot of hair product. They seemed to have a lot of self-belief, but had they actually output potential to end product?
McGarvey:
"So then, which of you bloody idiots has made the grade? What's this? You decided to split yourselves into 2 groups, and call yourselves the Jets & the Sharks? You been watching 'West Side Story' again? - More like bleedin' Romeo & Juliet from what I can see."
The apprentices shuffled nervously from foot to foot, straightened ties, fiddled with 'GAP' cufflinks, whilst some rubbed their freshly done 'buzzcuts' (complete with tramlines).
"Right, down to bloody business. Jets, that's you defenders, keepers, and the holding midfielders right? Who was Captain?" 'Me sir, err...Lord McGarvey, umm, boss'. McGarvey just rolled his eyes. "You worked on the training schedules, pitch maintenance, and washing the first team squads boots - for 0.5 an econ per boot? - How much did you get for the pitch work, and what did you bloody do, if anything?" 'Well, bruv, I mean guv, Dinksy, Banksy & Ginge split into a sub-team, and did loadsa weedin' - for 1 econ a half, but after 2 hours we'd done it all loike, and so found some gardens that needed doing, and Ginge was in charge of that wannee?'. "You what? You want to learn to speak bloody English mate, it says here that you're from Lewisham - you describe yourself as a 'leader of men', 'work well in a team' and can cover almost any roll (sic) - what, sausage roll? Let's see what's Liam's got to say about this shall we?"
Brady:
"Organising training schedules is rather overstating it isn't it? - I think you mean you put out the cones. As for the OAP's gardens, you and Matthew Dinks 'press-ganged' 3 old ladies you found at a bus-stop, bundled them into MY mini-bus, and then forced them to hand over a fiver each for 'garden work' that they didn't want doing.
You couldn't even do that properly. As for the subs, some of them were ok at times, but were often caught running in different directions, they lacked cohesion, leadership, and not least - talent. Poor Gerald Banks was left with almost all the boots - and I gather it was only after watching him claw the mud out of his 400th boot, that the first team took pity on him and gave him a score each from then on - thanks to THEIR generosity."
McGarvey:
"Hmm. Over to team Sharks now then. Who was the project Captain?" 'Me fer sure' (answered a cocky excuse for a winger). "You bloody what? - Do you know who you're speaking to?, I made 200,000 econ from selling 16/4's at 17/5 prices before you were even bloody born mate. What's your name?" 'Connolly, yer grace'. "So what are bloody you for?" 'I fort we shoulda split up like wot they did too, but Spiky said no, but yeah, but no, but he lost is Ipad and then he starts a squinny in the club-house when he gots to clean it.'
"ENOUGH, I don't want to bloody hear it. Over to you Claude, give me some figures and feedback."
Reigns:
"The feedback from the cleaners was a disgrace, a total disgrace. The changing rooms were dirtier than when they'd started, there were a few new ashtrays purchased, with what looked/smelled like they'd been smoking something they called 'bud' half the time, and as for operating the Burger Bar at half-times, terrible service, absolutely terrible. The only 'improvement' they can claim was the purchase of a Playstation off eBay, which even then they squabbled over."
"As for money. Team Jets took 361.52 econ, but broke the table-tennis table (worth 200), spent another 221.50 down 'Peggy-Sues', making a total loss of 59.98. The Sharks joined them at the night-club but outdrunk them to the tune of 276.00, having taken 250 in cleaners' wages, but incurring damages & fines - plus the eBay purchase, a total outlay of 431.75 - I make that a loss of 181.75.
McGarvey:
"Bloody poxy-box to boxy midfielder, waste of space, Amscreen striker yadda, nailfiles, Spurs beat you 10v0, even Gillingham turned you lot over 4v1, and you expect me to hire one of you??. Who drank the most?" 'Collins sir' piped up a couple of suspicious looking lads from the back row - their faces covered in foundation, (presumably hiding their boils - yuck).
"Drinking in a night-club aged 17, running off from the taxi without paying and then taking a girl back to her Mum's 'to look at her 'clunge' collection? - You're not even 18 yet! Bloody hell".
"The rest of you are fired, bunch of bloody muppets. Collins, stay behind, you can have a contract - you sound as if you'll fit right in with our lads, welcome to Portsmouth Football Club."
The search for McGarvey's (latest) apprentice appears to be over...
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