GLF

The York City Fanzine

DALEY MAYALL of the ‘Yorkshire Evening Pest’ The Number 1 Gossip Columnist EXLUSIVE!!.....

SKINNY SPICE THWARTS BECKHAM MOVE TO CITY!

David Beckham was on the verge of a sensational move to York City during the close season, the ‘YE PEST’ can exclusively reveal. The England Captain and his wife Victoria – the least talented member of the former all-girl group the Spice Girls – even got as far as visiting potential new homes in North Yorkshire.

Beckham had been looking to escape from Old Trafford ever since the dressing room bust-up with boss Sir Alex Purplenose. Glasgow Rangers were expected to sign him, but he quickly rebuffed them when learning that he would be greeted with Glaswegian kisses when the deal was completed.

“I’ve had enough of them recently, you know, so I didn’t fink I’d go there, you know.” He stated.

The deal to come to York fell through on a couple of ‘technical’ points, as outlined to  me by Steve Beck, Chairman of the ‘new’ York City FC over a beer or three in the Bootham Tavern in July. So how could the club afford to purchase such a high profile international? Beck told me:

“I can only reveal the details to you now as unfortunately a Spanish club calling themselves Red Admiral, or summat like that, stepped in to finally scupper our fragile bid and he bu@@ered off there instead. We managed to put together a unique ‘package’ deal to attract the Beckham family to York. This included full use, rent-free, of a seven bedroom Victorian house in Grosvenor Terrace, which is owned by club director Jason McGill. We were going to re-name it ‘Queen Victoria House’ after his wife. It’s ideally situated, as it’s just a two minute walk to the ground! A helicopter pad would have been especially built at BC on top of the social club roof so that David could arrive fresh to York in the style he’s accustomed to from his other home Beckingham palace, or direct from other media  and fashion commitments. I even obtained permission for the use of the nearby Elvington airfield so David’s private jet could land there, with his own personal hangar set aside.

The Smartie room within the main stand, used by kiddies on match days would have been renamed ‘Brooklyn & Romeo’s Den’. Only close friends and special guests would be able to use the facilities and the 4ft snooker table at home games. Chief Executive Keith Usherette was to act as doorman, banning access to anyone without a ticket, while the kids played inside at half-time.”

But surely this goes against the ethic that the board is trying to instill and promote now that they consider it a ‘Community Club’?

The Supporters’ Trust owns 85% of the club after all, I pointed out.

“That’s true daley, but sometimes you have to bend the rules – like the way David does the ball with his foot – to keep a world class player very happy.”

Beck was keen to reassure me. “At least a dozen Junior Reds were to be picked at random to share in Brooklyn and Romeo’s fun for each home game.”

He added: “I outlined that the house would be very handy for the corner shop, situated near the railway footbridge and that Victoria’s passion for visiting trendy and expensive fashion boutiques and dining in the finest restaurants were well provided for in York and the surrounding area. I told her about ‘Next’ and ‘River Island’ in Coney Street, and Wackers Fish & Chip Restaurant in Gillygate, although I think she’d probably prefer Betty’s Tea Rooms near the Mansion House. You don’t think I put her off by mentioning those places do you?”

I shrugged my shoulders and raised my eyebrows, as an essential part of the whole deal had not yet been revealed. I wanted the nitty gritty details and asked: “What about the transfer mon....”

But Beck, having put his pint down, interrupted me to add: “Another incentive for the family to come to York was the offer of using director Jason McGill’s sunbed located in the board room, should the sun decide not to make an appearance over our fair City. That nearly swung it for us, I think.”

I finally got a word in edgeways. “The transfer fee involved Steve - how much?!,” I demanded.

“Erm, I knew there was something I’d forgotten to mention! Money wasn’t to be paid directly to Man Utd., believe it or not. Because of our good relationship with the club following the deals with Nick Culkin and Jono Greening, the Red Devils and Sir Alex Purplenose said they were going to offer us a special deal and settle for a consignment of Wrigley’s gum to cover Alex’s dugout masticating expenses for the next two years. Mind you, that came to over £500,000, but we think we’d have recovered that money easily through the turnstiles and from selling Beckham merchandise once the fans knew we’d secured his services in a City shirt.”

“So how close was ‘Golden Balls’ to actually donning a City shirt?”, I queried. The Chairman looked forlornly into his pint glass and was close to tears.

“Very close. It was only when Victoria pointed out to David that my surname was Beck and not Beckham that doubts arose about the move. Our first official written approach, via his agent said: ‘Meet YCFC Chairman STEVE BECK A.M. Friday at Bootham Crescent for negotiations.’ He obviously misread it and thought he was going to be playing for a relation!”

It was time to seek out the man concerned in this whole charade - David Beckham. I collared him putting the bins out beside the imposing gates leading to Beckingham Palace. “Why did the deal fall through, David?”, I asked.

“Well, ya know, it’s kinda difficult to answer that one, but ya know, Vicky said Steve weren’t related to me and, ya know, once Real Madrid came in for me, ya know, I guess it was the Gucci shops in the capital that swung the decision, ya know. Plus she didn’t fancy our next kid being called Yorkie, ya know as sumfink is already called that in England somewhere! Bernie Beau Beckham sounds more, ya know, more erotic, ya know?”

With those details finally to hand, I left David to get on with learning how to say “you know” in Spanish and packed my trilby away and headed for the nearest boozer to pen this scoop - and toasted the fact I still had my sanity intact..............just! 

READ ALL THE LATEST BECKHAM CRAP in the ‘Yorkshire Evening PEST

DALEY MAYALL of the ‘Yorkshire Evening Pest’ The Number 1 Gossip Columnist EXLUSIVE!!.....

A DAY AT THE RACES

Racing was the order of the day for players and officials of York City last Wednesday, to see Chairman John Batchelor’s newly acquired filly York City Lady make her debut at Pontefract Races. It was four legs as opposed to four wheels that had Batchelor jumping up and down with excitement in the enclosure while hoping for a winning start in the ‘Winalot Sprint Maiden Stakes’ at 3pm. John told me about his sudden interest in the Sport of Kings. He enthused: “Local trainer Jim Featherington got in touch with me, wondering if I would like to purchase a horse with great potential to run in York City’s colours. I thought it was an excellent opportunity to publicise even further the name of York City Soccer Club, so I snapped her up at a reasonable price. I then offered readers of the ‘Yorkshire Evening PEST’ the chance to part own the filly, if they shared the training, grooming and feeding costs. Twenty have invested in him, along with a number of the City players. I’m glad to say a number of those readers are City supporters. Of course, any winnings would be shared accordingly. It would be great to see her triumph today.”

A number of York City fans also made the trip and could be heard chanting “There’s only one City Lady!”, as she circled the parade ring before the big race.

While singing the praises of their horse, some of them started jumping up and down, excited at the prospect of a big pay day after some hefty bets were laid at generous odds. Unfortunately, they had the misfortune of knocking BBC TV pundit Willie Arseon off the box upon which he was perched while trying to conduct an interview with colleague Claire Tallthing. Sadly, Willie sprained an ankle from the incident, Tallthing having to give him a piggyback to the First Aid point 200 yards away. Several City fans were ejected as a result of a stewards enquiry into the incident.

Cantering down to the start, York City Lady’s odds began to drift alarmingly. It was quite clear that she was ‘sweating up’ badly in the hot conditions, bookmakers making her the rank outsider of the thirteen runners. I managed to grab a word with City chief executive Keith Usherette in the main stand before the off. Had he backed the horse? “Have I ‘eckers like! It doesn’t stand a ruddy chance. I’ve gone for the favourite, Nomadic Society, owned by Sheik Abdullah Timbuktoo.”

A big cheer from the City collective gathered near the winning post signalled the start of the 1m 3f race. City fan Reg Hedge, who had been propping up the bar in the stand for the first two races, rushed outside for Lady’s debut. “Where are the fences? I’ve only come to admire the foliage!,” he announced to bemused racegoers nearby.

The Featherington trained horse made a blistering start from the stalls, and after one furlong she was a neck in front of Floodlight Failure, with Yellow Card and Sweet FA waiting to pounce, and Sertori bringing up the rear. Alas, York City Lady struggled to contend with the cracking pace and by the time Nomadic Society flashed past the winning post in first place, she was still six furlongs out, and eventually finished the race at 3.26pm in last place. Sertori was disqualified, as veterinary tests later proved he was a donkey and not a horse.

Everyone of the syndicate involved with York City Lady’s welfare headed back to a private bar, laid on by Batchelor, to drown their sorrows. City boss Terry Dolan was fuming at the performance of the horse and spouted: ”I had £3.50 on the nose on that useless heap of sh.........YES, £3.50!! I can’t afford another bet now, unless JB slips me an advance ‘Win Bonus’ as we are playing Shrewsbury at home next week.”

He necked a swift lager and lime and went in search of trainer Jim to ask about the true fitness of his investment. Meanwhile, a beaming Keith Usherette shuffled into the bar with pockets stuffed with notes. He bought everyone of the syndicate a cigar to help ease the pain, and donated £5 to the City Supporters’ Trust. Striker Lee Nogan, £50 down on the day, shrugged his shoulders and muttered: “At least she finished before the next race commenced!”

Stumpy Shortarse, jockey aboard York City Lady, was as downcast as the punters who’d backed her. He explained: “I expected better from her. She was okay on the gallops earlier in the week, but I think the roar from the City fans while we were in the parade ring unsettled her. She wasn’t bothered about the stalls and came out like a rocket, but after that she was crap. But she’ll be better for the experience.”

In the end, the market proved to be a good guide, as she drifted from a starting price of 200-1 to 5000-1 in a field of just thirteen horses. In a bid to lift everyone’s spirits, and save the day, yours truly rang his YE PEST colleague, tipster Andy Nap, to see if he had gleaned any inside information for one of the latter races, so the City throng could recoup their losses. He said he’d had a hot tip straight from the horses mouth for the last race. On my advice, the gang all lumped big money on Glory Hunters, a 16-1 shot. Amid joyful scenes, she duly romped home, sending everyone home happy on what had been an eventful occasion. Terry Dolan summed the day up: “We’ve all had a brill time, and I’ve managed to walk away in profit to the tune of £6.75. I think I’ll treat the wife to a large portion....................of fish and chips on the way home!!”