TMN takes a long overdue and yet tellingly brief look at the lower league trialist merry-go-round. How do some of these guys get themselves a contract? Having spent a lifetime fooling The Man into paying it for doing pretty much nothing of use, TMN pays tribute to two men who are shining lights to incompetent slackers everywhere.
While attempting to enjoy a quiet binge in the boozer last night, TMN became the unfortunate subject of an approach by local ‘good-time girl’ Gina. Obviously not one to be rude, TMN beckoned the fine lass to sit down and share a sambuca. Despite slights concerns about Gina’s previous encounters with Billy, Boz, Bazza and just about any other bozo in the neighbourhood, TMN could not resist her sweaty charm and forceful allure.
So, to cut out subsequent unpleasant details, TMN found itself down the doc’s this morning having a check-up on certain…ahem, vital body parts. But how could this have happened? Shrewsbury fans must be asking themselves the very same question this afternoon after lower league bike Fola Onibuje turned out for them in last night’s 2-0 defeat at home to Man City.
A quick Wik reveals that fast-moving Fola has already marked his territory at Preston, Huddersfield, Barnsley, Peterborough, Cambridge, Swindon, Brentford [uuhhh…TMN gasps for air] and Wycombe. He’s also flirted with many more on trial, and all at the age of 25. So how do these footballing whores keep getting signed up, despite the likelihood that they’ll be packing their bags in a few months time?
Fola is, of course, following a tried-and-tested circuit taken by that other legendary travelling con-artist, Marcus Richardson. Big Marcus entertained crowds as far and wide as Torquay, Hartlepool, Lincoln and Yeovil with his giraffe-inspired take on the beautiful game. Scoring once every six weeks or so (a better rate than TMN, but that’s no way to judge success), with the ball usually having struck his left buttock and trickled in, Richardson somehow tricked opposing managers into thinking he had talent.
This begs several questions: are football managers really that stupid? Do they do no research at all? Are they just pissed? TMN will settle for the latter, itself having joined Bazza and Boz under the “I was so drunk I couldn’t see” banner when explaining away precisely how we were chatted up by Gina.