retired_hamawandi

October 17th 2011

Sunderland vs Tottenham

Michael Dawson was present today at the Stadium of Light to cheer on his Spurs team mates, currently profligate in front of goal, and in 19th place in the league. They started brightly with Crosby hitting a blistering long range shot that smacked the inside of the post but rolled along the line and was cleared by Joao Washington, the huge overweight Brazillian centre-back. Spurs went one down after half an hour when Argentine International Juan Sebastian Vaccarezza, a man with perhaps the hardest shot in world football today, smacked home from five yards. Spurs were visibly deflated, and two minutes later paid for it when debutant French teenager Felix Camara put through his own net when a corner from veteran Michael Gray whacked him in the knee. Half time approached and Sunderland were cruising. The second half began with Spurs sitting back, afraid to venture forward. Landon Donovan passed up a good chance when one on one with the 'keeper, but they got a piece of luck when the 'keeper fumbled the ball and Clark Keltie made no mistake. Sunderland extended their lead on 67 when Vaccarezza chipped Evans from miles out, which sealed the result for Sunderland. Managerless, rudderless Spurs then got a goal back when Felix Camara got into the box and squared for substitute Nico Kranjcar to thump in, but on 88 minutes it was too little too late. Dawson, watching in the crowds spent the whole game looking pained as the Spurs defence suffered catastrophe after catastrophe. It isn't too late for Spurs to save themselves, but don't bet on it.

retired_hamawandi

October 18th 2011

Chez Dawson

After waking up, aching all over from sitting in the back of his Limo the previous night on the way back from Sunderland, Michael Dawson seriously considered handing in a transfer request. It seemed the team he had signed for were completely diabolical when he wasn't playing. It was stupidly illogical, as they'd actually been fine before he arrived. In fact he'd barely played. His Tottenham career had more holes in it that a large Swiss Cheese.

Sighing, he picked up the Daily Rhetoric, ignored the picture of him on the front page falling asleep at the game the previous night (The headline read, "Is this the laziest man in Britain?") The second page revealed to his shock that the new manager of Spurs had been announced, the third boss since Michael had joined the club. The man was none other that former Ipswich boss George Burley.

Michael didn't know how he felt about this, but logged onto the Internet, and entered in his personal profile that he was eager to please the new manager, was concerned about the club finances, and wanted a move. It made no sense whatsoever, but he did it anyway. There was just no sense pretending he wasn't stupid, when quite frankly, the statistics proved otherwise.

Michael sat back in his chair, picked up his cup of tea and poured it down his ear. It was not the first time he had forgotten where his mouth was.

retired_roxysunny101

Old repeats of 'Only Fools and Horses' are :cool:

As is this story

retired_cangriracing

This is fantastic! It's not only a really good story with great characters, but really funny aswell. Some great one liners.

Dawson needs to get a few friends, though Joe Cole wouldn't be be the wisest choice as he's obviously too intelligent for him!

retired_hamawandi

October 28th 2011

Alan Sugar Memorial Boardroom, White Hart Lane

Michael couldn't really be bothered to go to meet the new manager, he was simply too busy at home. His latest Championship Menagerie game was really taking off and he could barely tear himself away from his laptop. Adding to that, his wild cats had been particularly frisky that week, and two lions had escaped from his grounds and mauled 3 farmers to death in the local pub. He escaped charges via a bizarre sub-clause in the law which allowed wild animals to kill people if it were on a licensed premises. Michael was somewhat relieved at that, although the quantity of hippies and animal rights protesters outside his front gate had grown more and more vociferous in the last few days.

He currently found himself in the boardroom at Spurs in a meeting with George Burley, the new manager, and some bloke in a posh suit claiming to be a chairman. they were trying desperately to convince him not to hand in a transfer request on the grounds that if he wasn't injured every five minutes, Tottenham might be slightly better than they, in fact were. Michael listened attentively, yawned and left.

The transfer request was immediately reacted to badly by half the squad, who had been listening in through the keyhole, and who suddenly as a generic whole decided they didn't like him anymore.

Michael didn't care, he was going to go home, fetch some hippies and push them off the roof. He needed some entertainment, the pressures of football were just too much.

retired_hamawandi

<BLOCKQUOTE class="ip-ubbcode-quote"><font size="-1">quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by The RingMaster:
Old repeats of 'Only Fools and Horses' are :cool:

As is this story<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Heh heh, Only fools and horses is ace, but its on all the time!

Glad you like the story!

Rich

retired_hamawandi

<BLOCKQUOTE class="ip-ubbcode-quote"><font size="-1">quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Doddy:
This is fantastic! It's not only a really good story with great characters, but really funny aswell. Some great one liners.

Dawson needs to get a few friends, though Joe Cole wouldn't be be the wisest choice as he's obviously too intelligent for him!<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Cheers, keep reading, as Michael seeks to make friends in a squad which quite frankly wants to tie him to a stick and burn him. Just like the 1500's!

Rich

retired_hamawandi

November 14th 2011

Chez Dawson

Bottom of the league Tottenham. It just fitted perfectly. A weak squad, but oddly enough a squad that is still mostly intact from the Championship Winning side of a few years previously. Michael had woken up in a cold sweat that morning, as it had been announced on the BBC Breakfast News that Spurs were going to be signing towering English centre back Ian Cross from Dinamo Kiev when the transfer window opened in January for free. Could they really be preparing for life without him? he knew it was expected, what with putting in his transfer request, but he never expected Spurs to do anything about it. They's also agreed to sign Dmitriy Karenko, a young Ukranian left sided midfielder for a nominal fee, but Michael wasn't too bothered about it.

He'd spent the month in hiding as the press were baying for his blood, branding him a traitor, and everything else under the sun. His publishing company had told him to keep up the controversy as it would help book sales when his 'piece de resistance' was released in January.

Only Joe Cole, his true and loyal friend had anything good to say about Michael to the press, and had come round for tea on numerous occasions to discuss life, the universe and everything. He valued Joe as a friend not only because they had strikingly similar low intelligence patterns, but also because he really fancied his sister, Barry.

retired_hamawandi

November 15th 2011

Chez Dawson

Michael sat down and wrote Chapter 6 of his book that morning. It was the chapter where he talked about the love of his life, Minty Tallulah...

Minty was born in 1985, which made her a little bit younger than me, but from the moment we met, it was quite obvious we were going to be together forever, but then split up in a wholly tragic fashion. We'd flirted a bit over a long period of time, and there were press rumours she liked me. I was never surprised about this, as I am a fantastic guy. When I broke my leg, she was the first to send me a card, such was her love for me. We united briefly after that when she came round to my house and we shared a steamy cup of tea, and buttered some muffins. Soon after that she dumped me and we were estranged for quite some time. Out of the blue however she asked me to move away with her to another country. I declined on account of my career which has since disappeared to the back of beyond. We shared a few choice moments, and my life will never be the same again. for the rest of this chapter I will be talking about me, as I feel I am much more interesting. My right arm has 2,987 hairs, compared to my left, which contains 3,014. This wasn't always the case, in fact in 1997....

After an hour or two of self indulgence Michael was only stopped by the sound of a screaming Hippie being torn in two by a Siberian Tiger and a Leopard. Again, a little known sub clause in the law allowed animals to kill Hippies as long as they left their home-made shoes intact. Michael felt better than he had in a long time, although felt slightly concerned that Joe Cole was the only one who was going to turn up to his birthday party in a few days. His team-mates had held an invitation burning session a few days earlier, which worried him, but they were joking... weren't they?

retired_hamawandi

November 18th 2011

The Big Party Warehouse, North Lincoln

Michael had hired out a large sized warehouse for his party, all the way up North, and ultimately had the worst day of his life bar none. At 3pm Joe Cole turned up, and Michael unwrapped his present, a CD of the greatest hits of recently deceased pop star Cliff Richard, who had disappeared after he was last seen crawling up his own backside. Joe's sister Barryella, or 'Barry' for short came too, but spent the entire afternoon drinking dry the tabletop stacked with whisky. That ruined his chances with her. At around half three, Lenny Pidgeley, the former Chelsea reserve goalkeeper turned up, but having forgotten his invitation was turned away. At around half four after a brief dance, Michael and Joe gave up, and drove home, whereupon Joe continued down to Southampton.

Michael was gutted. Nobody had turned up, but why? He was great, and everyone loved him. He sat in his kitchen sobbing, and gazed out of the window, when all of a sudden there was a flash of light, a thudding of feet and a roar of an angry lion.

A photographer had photographed Michael looking upset, but had been mauled by a lion trying to escape the grounds of his estate. Unfortunately for Michael, the valiant photographer had hurled his camera over the razor wire fence, where his colleague had caught it and run off.

He was very worried now, and what on earth would the press have to say? He wasn't too worried about the photographer as due to a bizarre subsection of media law, it was ok for photographers to be mauled by lions as long as the lion didn't exceed a length of 2.7metres.