THURSDAY
Still INFURIATED by that fiendish Man City rort. One should have trusted one’s gut about that Sheikh Mansour having a kiwi accent on the skype-ophone. I’ll tear Tew a new Otagohole for that – fucking PYGMIES. What great men must endure.
FRIDAY
This fucking report. One should have expected that if I asked Ealesy to do something, he’d ACTUALLY go and bloody do it. When I said ‘report’ I really meant what I, I mean the ARU, would ‘report’ to the media when we bloody felt like it. Those saps at the ACB have screwed the pooch for all of us. I’m knee deep in tippex and the desk top publishing machine is cactus.
What’s worse is Nuci keeps ‘popping’ by my office to see what I reckon about his key recommendation – making him head coach. I tried to comfort him by saying: “Nuci, I could agree with you on this, but then we’d BOTH be fucking wrong”. In my experience, MOST people really should have lower self-esteem.
SATURDAY
WHAT do I ask for? A product worth watching. What do I GET? 80 minutes of Bryce Lawrence choking on his fucking whistle. That true statesman Johnny Howard was snoring so VOCIFEROUSLY in front of the telebroadast at Chez O’Neill last night, that his dentures fell into his gewürztraminer!
At least as I write this the Tahs have just about put those bloody upstart Queenslanders to the sword. Should knock McKenzie down a peg or…
SUNDAY
At HQ with this fucking report AGAIN. Somehow my message ISN’T getting through because we’re on the 19th revision and sacking Robbie is STILL in there.
They started with it front and centre and each time I knock it back they keep burying it beneath yet another assistant coach boning. We’re down to the fucking laundry manager now – apparently some other guy’s got great European experience.
But enough’s enough, this version’s going OUT. I’ve sat Robbie at his desk in the corner of my office cutting out the offending paragraphs and re-stapling. The media can be fucked if they think they’re seeing any of this.
Robbie keeps whingeing and asking me when he can go home – or at least I think that was the gist of it. If I don’t see Lord Bledisloe in the cabinet this year mate you’ll be going fucking HOME alright.
MONDAY
Thank St Ignatius for tender mercies! The saffas are coming with some Braai-loving delegation to try and push me into lobbing them another franchise! Nothing gives one more satisfaction than screwing the Jarpies, and THEM picking up the tab!
Time to initiate PROJECT GOSFORD. Call them the Southern Kings, based on the Central coast, half their matches in Japan, half in LA. Quids in and Saffa aneurisms all round.
TUESDAY
This “AUTOMOTIVE CRASH” in Melbourne. At least it’s not a lap-top processor this time. Fair-dinkum. The only reason we kept hold of Quadie in the first place was Steph Rice eye candy at ARU functions. Now that she’s out of the picture, the lad is on wafer thin fucking ICE, I can tell you.
WEDNESDAY
Signed poster of Sepp Blatter arrived today. Now THERE’S an administrator’s role model. No fucking reports for him.
It does make one reflect on one’s future though. Obviously only the Americas or European football could recompense my full value. May have to slug on here a bit longer though. Have kept a few copies of report version 1 as insurance – roast Dingo would throw the slavering mob off the scent.
THURSDAY
You can’t keep a good man down! News just through that my Rugby World Cup board position is in the BAG. They say the French won’t drink anyone else’s wine, but looks like a coupla cases of 1990 Grange don’t go astray. Having a few pics of Bernard that would make DSK blush doesn’t hurt either. I’ve gotta say that guy is amazingly flexible for his age.
So, looks like I’ll be choosing the next hosts of the World Cup over my ARU successors. Ahhhh, let the games commence….
Note to Jenny – get the technical bods to upload this announcement to Facepages and Tweeter, STAT
*according to G&GR
