Dashing Bob S
19-09-2011, 06:05 PM
THE BILLY BROWN DIARIES 2: ‘FIFTEEN MINUTES TO FAME’.
Billy tries to rediscover his Hibernian roots, while helping Jeff come to terms with the psychological trauma of unemployment and taking a beleaguered Gary O’C under his wing.
THURSDAY
Jeff phoned. Met up for a Magners and babycham under the brig doon by the Esk. Our usual spot – away fae prying eyes. Worried aboot him. Still wearin that awfay stained pair of Hearts tracksuit keks he sported in the changing rooms of the ill-fated St james Centre outlet he wisnae really in when he didnae ken what he really kent. Nae conversation. ‘Mind the gowf weekend at the Hydro.’ That was all he could say.
Decided it was time to get back tae my roots and restablish my Hibs credentials. So the wife and I have been looking at mobile homes. Just for the summer likes. She’s already done her bit for social acceptance wi the harp tattoo on her ersecheek, n she comes hame with a castle oan the other yin. That left me wi the ship, but nowt tae go on the other cheek. So I settled for a ‘MADE IN MUSSY’.
That night we were guests of the Hibs Soul Mafia at a Northern night at the Hibs Club. She was full of the Rid Bull and constantly on at me to show ma erse. ‘Billy Broon, if you dinnae show that erse richt noo, yir baws’ll freeze ower afore ye git yir hole again.’ That’s as much as she kens – gowf this weekend wi Jeff n Lockie at the Hydro!
FRIDAY
Back tae training, made East Mains in 15.3. Best yet. By Christ, Jeff would love it at Easter Road! Nae interference here – wi neither bairns nor team selection! ‘A perfect squad’ says Boss Man Caldo. Then he goes, ‘You might as well pick the team for the morn, Bill. I’ll have my heid full of amateur fixtures from Engerlund’s scenic Midland’s. Were you aware that Birmingham boasts more canals than Venice?’
‘Naw boss...but here’s me aw excited tae the point of pishing ma breeks. How dae ye pick a team?’
‘It’s no rocket science Billy. Two words: Vladimir Romanov. Start Sparky, he plays for Wolves, so he must be good, O’Connor, ex Brum City, and Ozzie, who was at Villa and loads of other Midderlands clubs. The rest, well, whatever.’
Giddy heights for a Musselburgh felly indeed. Still cannae git over getting here so quick in the motor. Rickers could be an awfay drag, 35 minutes plus, and you never kent when students were gonny throw you off when they wanted to play volleyball. Used to tell young Tommo that he could learn a lot from watching some of those buxon lassies playing volleyball. ‘Too much turf on the pitch for my liking, BB’, he’d go.
‘But it’s synthetic, son’, I’d point out, but the boy would just shake his heid and go back to his laptop. Fair play to the laddie being the studious sort – it’s a short career.
An awfay coorse young felly in Greggs servin the Broon Bombadier his steak bake. We were still black afronted aboot the Paul Hanlon hoax. This wee nyaff goes: ‘They pretended tae his faither that Paul was a central defender.’
Aye, man’s cruelty knows no bounds.
SATURDAY
The ‘Broon Effect’ takes immediate impact as the boys in magreen race intae a 2-0 lead ower in Fifeshire. Then Boss Man Caldo whips off Sparky and Gaz tae ‘protect the Midlanders’ n it aw goes mammaries skywards.
O’Connor got it tight for that t-shirt. Boss Man Caldo telt us tae photoshop it, tae change the ‘G’ in GOD tae an ‘R’ tae appease the board. Telt him my skills were with a fax machine, not photoshopping, but gave it a go. Caldo doesnae want to see a laddie who yince plied his trade in the Engerlish Midderlands get intae any more bother.
Boss Man Caldo straight off south after the game on a scoutin-come-knobin mission, leaving me with strict instructions to look after Gaz. Jeff leavin the usual ‘why are you no at the gowf weekend’ messages on the phone. Well, some of us have jobs tae dae!
The O’Connor laddie has had a rough time of it so I thought I’d take him out and introduce him to one of the most addictive substances known to man. The big dafty tried to snort the contents of one of Mr Lucas finest and sustained a terrible ice cream heidache. Doubtful for Motherwell on Tuesday.
Dumped him back at his and set off for the night.
SUNDAY
Woke up badly hungover next tae two huge buttocks and nearly shat the bed when I realised there was nae tats on them! Aboot tae dae a runner afore I realised it was the gowf weekend at Peebles Hydro and the erse belonged tae Jeff. Blessed relief!
Tried tae instigate a session of the ‘broon love’ tae revive his spirits. No go. ‘I’ve been emasculated by that Jimmy Blunt Vlad. When he sacked me he took mare than ma job, he psychologically sucked the ***** oot ma baws, Billy.’
‘C’mon...b-‘
‘Stop! It’s no the same. Ye canna call me boss when I’m no. You have tae mean it.’
‘Let me try, Jeff!’
‘Naw, away wi ye! It’s patronising. It’s a fully-fledged existential crisis I’m haein here!’
Well, ye have tae hand it tae Jeff – as an excuse it beats the wife’s heidaches hand’s doon.
The gowf wis a disaster. Headed back hame tae Mussy.
MONDAY
Boss Man Caldo’s surely coy about his weekend, but I reckon he’s kipped up wi at least a couple of lassies fae the Engerlish Midderlands. I upset him by breaking the news that it was the Nedderlands and no the midderlands that invented total fitba.
‘Typical of they weedgies tae try and claim it for themselves. Do you realise, Billy, that out of five senior Engerlish league teams that three, Walsall, Wolves and West Brom, are from the Engerlish midderlands?’
‘Naw. What is it ye like aboot the midderlands, boss?’
‘Well I’m not one for the bright lights, so that rules out London. Rolling hills and seaside villages don’t float my boat, so forget the South East. Rugged scenery and picturesque villages, no thanks! So ignore the south west. The beaches of East Anglia leave me cold, as do the hills, dales and lakes of the north country.’
‘But the midderlands, boss, what is it you like about the Midderlands?’
Well he thought for a while, but said nothing. I’m sure his body language subletly changed.
‘Right Billy, lets get back to work, Motherwell. So what do you know about them?’
Enough said.
Took Jeff for a pizza at the Caprice that night. Fed Lockie bits of our crust. Almost like old times. I paid cause I'm flush after my first weeks wages at Hibs and I finally got my last three months Herts pay through. Looking forward to the seeing if the 'Broon effect' transfers to cup fitba.
Billy tries to rediscover his Hibernian roots, while helping Jeff come to terms with the psychological trauma of unemployment and taking a beleaguered Gary O’C under his wing.
THURSDAY
Jeff phoned. Met up for a Magners and babycham under the brig doon by the Esk. Our usual spot – away fae prying eyes. Worried aboot him. Still wearin that awfay stained pair of Hearts tracksuit keks he sported in the changing rooms of the ill-fated St james Centre outlet he wisnae really in when he didnae ken what he really kent. Nae conversation. ‘Mind the gowf weekend at the Hydro.’ That was all he could say.
Decided it was time to get back tae my roots and restablish my Hibs credentials. So the wife and I have been looking at mobile homes. Just for the summer likes. She’s already done her bit for social acceptance wi the harp tattoo on her ersecheek, n she comes hame with a castle oan the other yin. That left me wi the ship, but nowt tae go on the other cheek. So I settled for a ‘MADE IN MUSSY’.
That night we were guests of the Hibs Soul Mafia at a Northern night at the Hibs Club. She was full of the Rid Bull and constantly on at me to show ma erse. ‘Billy Broon, if you dinnae show that erse richt noo, yir baws’ll freeze ower afore ye git yir hole again.’ That’s as much as she kens – gowf this weekend wi Jeff n Lockie at the Hydro!
FRIDAY
Back tae training, made East Mains in 15.3. Best yet. By Christ, Jeff would love it at Easter Road! Nae interference here – wi neither bairns nor team selection! ‘A perfect squad’ says Boss Man Caldo. Then he goes, ‘You might as well pick the team for the morn, Bill. I’ll have my heid full of amateur fixtures from Engerlund’s scenic Midland’s. Were you aware that Birmingham boasts more canals than Venice?’
‘Naw boss...but here’s me aw excited tae the point of pishing ma breeks. How dae ye pick a team?’
‘It’s no rocket science Billy. Two words: Vladimir Romanov. Start Sparky, he plays for Wolves, so he must be good, O’Connor, ex Brum City, and Ozzie, who was at Villa and loads of other Midderlands clubs. The rest, well, whatever.’
Giddy heights for a Musselburgh felly indeed. Still cannae git over getting here so quick in the motor. Rickers could be an awfay drag, 35 minutes plus, and you never kent when students were gonny throw you off when they wanted to play volleyball. Used to tell young Tommo that he could learn a lot from watching some of those buxon lassies playing volleyball. ‘Too much turf on the pitch for my liking, BB’, he’d go.
‘But it’s synthetic, son’, I’d point out, but the boy would just shake his heid and go back to his laptop. Fair play to the laddie being the studious sort – it’s a short career.
An awfay coorse young felly in Greggs servin the Broon Bombadier his steak bake. We were still black afronted aboot the Paul Hanlon hoax. This wee nyaff goes: ‘They pretended tae his faither that Paul was a central defender.’
Aye, man’s cruelty knows no bounds.
SATURDAY
The ‘Broon Effect’ takes immediate impact as the boys in magreen race intae a 2-0 lead ower in Fifeshire. Then Boss Man Caldo whips off Sparky and Gaz tae ‘protect the Midlanders’ n it aw goes mammaries skywards.
O’Connor got it tight for that t-shirt. Boss Man Caldo telt us tae photoshop it, tae change the ‘G’ in GOD tae an ‘R’ tae appease the board. Telt him my skills were with a fax machine, not photoshopping, but gave it a go. Caldo doesnae want to see a laddie who yince plied his trade in the Engerlish Midderlands get intae any more bother.
Boss Man Caldo straight off south after the game on a scoutin-come-knobin mission, leaving me with strict instructions to look after Gaz. Jeff leavin the usual ‘why are you no at the gowf weekend’ messages on the phone. Well, some of us have jobs tae dae!
The O’Connor laddie has had a rough time of it so I thought I’d take him out and introduce him to one of the most addictive substances known to man. The big dafty tried to snort the contents of one of Mr Lucas finest and sustained a terrible ice cream heidache. Doubtful for Motherwell on Tuesday.
Dumped him back at his and set off for the night.
SUNDAY
Woke up badly hungover next tae two huge buttocks and nearly shat the bed when I realised there was nae tats on them! Aboot tae dae a runner afore I realised it was the gowf weekend at Peebles Hydro and the erse belonged tae Jeff. Blessed relief!
Tried tae instigate a session of the ‘broon love’ tae revive his spirits. No go. ‘I’ve been emasculated by that Jimmy Blunt Vlad. When he sacked me he took mare than ma job, he psychologically sucked the ***** oot ma baws, Billy.’
‘C’mon...b-‘
‘Stop! It’s no the same. Ye canna call me boss when I’m no. You have tae mean it.’
‘Let me try, Jeff!’
‘Naw, away wi ye! It’s patronising. It’s a fully-fledged existential crisis I’m haein here!’
Well, ye have tae hand it tae Jeff – as an excuse it beats the wife’s heidaches hand’s doon.
The gowf wis a disaster. Headed back hame tae Mussy.
MONDAY
Boss Man Caldo’s surely coy about his weekend, but I reckon he’s kipped up wi at least a couple of lassies fae the Engerlish Midderlands. I upset him by breaking the news that it was the Nedderlands and no the midderlands that invented total fitba.
‘Typical of they weedgies tae try and claim it for themselves. Do you realise, Billy, that out of five senior Engerlish league teams that three, Walsall, Wolves and West Brom, are from the Engerlish midderlands?’
‘Naw. What is it ye like aboot the midderlands, boss?’
‘Well I’m not one for the bright lights, so that rules out London. Rolling hills and seaside villages don’t float my boat, so forget the South East. Rugged scenery and picturesque villages, no thanks! So ignore the south west. The beaches of East Anglia leave me cold, as do the hills, dales and lakes of the north country.’
‘But the midderlands, boss, what is it you like about the Midderlands?’
Well he thought for a while, but said nothing. I’m sure his body language subletly changed.
‘Right Billy, lets get back to work, Motherwell. So what do you know about them?’
Enough said.
Took Jeff for a pizza at the Caprice that night. Fed Lockie bits of our crust. Almost like old times. I paid cause I'm flush after my first weeks wages at Hibs and I finally got my last three months Herts pay through. Looking forward to the seeing if the 'Broon effect' transfers to cup fitba.