Shyton United

8th May, 2013

8th May, 2013A new owner had been announced and the squad gathered at Shyton United’s training ground, Bluewood, for a meet and greet. You could cut the tension with a Gobsen trout. All the main players were there in the changing room, as well as Mystic. Maury was out in front next to a small table, which had an iPhone on it connected to some JBL Bluetooth speakers, retailing at a hundred smackers from your local Curry’s. Tommy, looking agitated, kept fidgeting and patting his ever-receding hairline; it seemed like he was about to nut someone. K-Y glanced over at Tommy nervously, seemingly fearing it would be him. Better him than me.

TOMMY: Get on with it!

MAURY: It is my honour to present to you, the great new owner of Shyton United, Mr Chen Hu. Everybody stand and bow!

Nobody stood up and bowed. Maury pressed play on the iPhone and the Chinese national anthem played. In walked a tall Chinese man looking richer than Mark Zuckerberg and wearing a suit that glistened and said, ‘I cost ten grand’. Chen Hu cut an imposing, stern-looking figure that made me feel a little unhinged. K-Y visibly gulped—though he did that a lot as if he always had something thick stuck in his throat. Another Chinese guy also walked in, a smallish man called Wang Yong who was Chen Hu’s interpreter and his Maury. Maury stopped playing the Chinese national anthem and bowed to greet Chen Hu. Maury sucked up more than a Dyson.

CHEN HU’S WIKIPEDIA PAGE, A SUMMARY: Mr Chen Hu, billionaire entrepreneur. Factory owner—maker of mobile phone cases & plastic switches. As of May 1st, 2013, there have been no allegations of corruption for 20 days.

CHEN HU (Chen Hu only spoke Mandarin but I later got everything officially translated): Congratulations on promotion to the Premier League. I can’t wait to exploit you all.

WANG YONG: Mr Chen Hu wishes to congratulate you on winning promotion to the Premier League.

CHARLIE: It was nothing, really. When you have a football brain like mine, piece of piss.

CHEN HU: Are they all here?

WANG YONG: Mr Chen Hu wishes to know if they are all here.

MAURY: Yes, except for Shinji Takamoto, whose wife just gave birth.

CHEN HU: Shinji Takamoto? Japanese?

WANG YONG: You have Japanese player?

MAURY: Absolutely. We’re a forward thinking club.

CHEN HU: Japanese!

Chen Hu then, oddly, spat on the ground. That’s a sure way to spread tuberculosis.

CHEN HU: Bring out Li Bang.

WANG YONG: We have surprise for you. Li Bang! May I present to you, first new signing of this new era. China’s number one player.

MAURY: Excellent, Mr Chairman, sir.

Li Bang, a young Jet Li lookalike already dressed in a Shyton United kit, came in, head bowed like the subservient person Chen Hu liked. Maury later nicknamed Li Bang ‘Marketing Gold Mine’. All of a sudden, Li Bang broke out into a quick breakdance with Chinese pop music emanating from a mobile attached to his shorts. He jumped up.

'MARKETING GOLD MINE’: Li Bang!

Wasn’t expecting that!

There was an understandable uncomfortable uncomfortableness in the room. A few players shifted uncomfortably. It was even more uncomfortable than when I inserted my docco up Pip Turner’s channel tunnel. That kind of uncomfortable behaviour might not sit comfortably in very normal Shyton.

CHARLIE: One second. Why wasn’t I consulted? I’m in charge of this team.

CHEN HU: Wang.

WANG YONG: Mr Charlie, you are fired.

CHARLIE: What! You can’t do that. My players won’t stand for it.

TOMMY: Think again.

CHEN HU: Wang.

WANG YONG: You are all fired except Mr Tommy and Mr James. We give you five minutes to get off premises.

K-Y (whispers to Tommy): Lucky for us, eh?

Maury opened the door for Chen Hu, then followed him and Wang Yong out of the door, scurrying after them like a loved up rat. Wouldn’t be surprised if Maury polished their shoes, and polished other things too.

Charlie and the team were dumbfounded, except K-Y who had a big grin splashed across his face. Not even K-Y could explain why he was retained.