Gerrard, Media, Satire

A Complete And Utter Piss-Take

Good Evening.

Not appearing in tomorrow’s papers…


An Early Splash Of Success

The new Rangers* manager is relieved to have started climbing the bladder of success at a remarkably early stage of his Ibrox-based managerial career.

By A. Wee-Dribble

Rangers* fans were beside themselves with joy last night as they learned that their new stellar manager Steven ‘Still Getting His Coaching Badges’ Gerrard had bonded with some of his squad prior to him taking up his brown-brogued role.

The stunning news that the one-time Champions League winner had caused folk to think about Rangers’* assault on the Europa League sent the Light Blue Legions into entirely understandable raptures.

Eyewitnesses confirm that Gerrard had been going for a long-delayed piss after several pints and a protracted discussion about the futility of Sportsound, when the force of his urine stream caused a spectacular bounce-back off the urinal and on to the trainers of one of the Rangers* players who happened to be staying at the same hotel.

“You could see it as clear as day”, said our source. “Proper ‘Gerrard’ piss found its way on to the footwear of one of his squad.”

“You could see the bond he already has with the Rangers* first team squad, as well as his existing deep knowledge of the game by the way he said to the player ‘Sorry mate’ and by the way that the splashed victim said ‘no bother’.”

“I don’t count co-efficient points” continued our insider, “but if the Europa League takes any account of piss-giving, or indeed piss-taking, Rangers* are laughing all the way to a humiliating exit in a slightly later round this season.”


Meanwhile, in other news… Gerrard gets a head start in Europa League mission


NB Remember folks, it’s just a bit of fun…

Satire, Scottish Football, Sevco

When Sevco REALLY Disappoints…

Good Evening. [It’s been a while…]

Here is some ‘news’ that you won’t read in tomorrow’s papers…


The Rangers* Bus Falls Short

The four-wheeled wonder somehow fell short of our shamelessly-exaggerated ‘expectations’.

By A. Hype-Fest

Rangers* fans were today left reeling by the news (which they somehow never saw coming) that the team’s new bus isn’t actually going to be a perpetual motion machine which will solve the world’s energy crisis and save the environment while also delivering a reliable run to an away fixture in Dundee.

Rumours had abounded that Rangers* were about to acquire a bus that would change the world by proving that cheap, inexhaustible energy was available to everyone, whilst also generating the funds to deliver multiple Champions League titles to Ibrox.

Sadly however, these rumours proved to be unfounded, with the Rangers* team actually being set to hitchhike to games next season, and the world as a whole being left with no choice but to burn itself to a fossil fuel-based cinder.

Rangers* fan Billy McGuillibly expressed the disappointment of many fans at the news.

“Fuck the environment. Stevie G is here for 55 and he needs the money generated by the bus-based creation of an unlimited source of energy.

“How can the papers treat me like this with their bullshit stories of perpetual motion machines and untold riches?

“I’m going to write a complaint on the back of this season ticket that I just bought.”

“What sort of idiot do they take me for?”




NB Remember folks, it’s just a bit of fun…

Alan’s Adventures, Gerrard, Satire, Sevco

Jilted At The Altar

Good Evening.

The warmer weather is often a sign that the wedding season is upon us. And it certainly is at Sevco! Following the union of Steven Gerrard and the Fantasy Known As Rangers Football Club on Friday, today saw another emotion-packed wedding due to take place.

Here is a report supplied by my pal Alan who was lurking at the back. Fortunately, no one saw him…


Jilted At The Altar

Today, Sevconia’s favourite sprite Miss Imp Pecunious was due to be bound in financial matrimony to legendary military hero Major Investment, with the ceremony once more presided over by the Reverend Dave King.

A small but select gathering of Scotland’s finest journalists gathered for the service to wish the Bride and Groom well, weep sweet tears of joy, and to prepare themselves to spread the wonderful tidings to the rest of humanity for the next few thousand years.

The honoured guests arrived in good time, murmuring with excitement and wondering quite how impressive Major Investment would be when he arrived. There was also considerable concern about Imp Pecunious who had been waiting to be swept off her feet since at least March 2015.

The Reverend Dave King also took his place well before the start of the ceremony and exchanged a word or two with the guests. Well, actually it was five words: “remember what Jim tells you”.

So the scene was set. All it needed was for the Groom and his traditionally-late Bride to arrive.

Everyone waited.

And waited.

And then waited a little bit more.

Watches were looked at, and shoes were stared at by an increasingly-uncomfortable congregation.

Eventually the door opened.

But it was not Major Investment.

No, it was Miss Imp Pecunious, wearing a simple and very inexpensive gown that some claim was previously the subject of a rejected £11m bid from China on eBay.

The guests gasped.

Imp Pecunious walked to the front and asked the Reverend Dave King where her one true love Major Investment was.

The Reverend Dave King remarked that no one had told him that this was a wedding, and that he had no expectation of seeing Major Investment today. Or indeed for the foreseeable future.

Imp Pecunious broke down in tears and the guests shuffled uncomfortably in their seats, until suddenly the Reverend Dave King spoke:

“Good morning. Just to let you know that there will be a cake sale in a few weeks’ time. We expect to raise £6m.

“We haven’t got the ingredients, the oven is on the blink, and we have no idea whether anyone will actually want to buy cake, but a bright future for the club lies ahead.

“I’m also hoping that some debt could be converted to cake. A hypothetical Victoria sponge has got to be worth at least £2m a slice, hasn’t it?”

Before departing to give their readers unexpected and disappointing news, the guests were treated to light refreshments of stale fudge.



NB Remember folks, it’s just a bit of satirical fun…

Media, Satire, Sevco

Paul Murray Deserved Better

Good Evening.

Not appearing in any Scottish newspaper any time soon…


St Paul Of Murray: The Blue Room Martyr

Former Rangers and Rangers* Director Paul Murray was given a truly shameful send-off by the club* he had served with such blazer-wearing distinction.

By A. Laughable-Perspective

Paul Murray was disgustingly shat on from a great height by a club* that disgracefully failed to acknowledge the alleged pal of a mainstream journalist. An alleged pal who has been at the heart of many back-page squirrels over recent years.

A man of St Paul’s stature deserves fulsome praise when tendering his resignation.

What he does NOT deserve is a meagre 121-word announcement.

It wouldn’t be so bad if it had been 150 words, or 130, or even 122! But how in the name of f*ck can anyone post a statement saying farewell to a legend of Rangers*-related media contacts with a 121 word statement?


And let’s be honest, we are being generous here. That contemptible 121-word effort was actually shared with that bloke off the Cillit Bang advert even though none of us previously knew that he was even on the Rangers* board!

How can a self-professed professional and dignified institution like Rangers* FC expect St Paul Of The Blessed 121 Words to share a tribute with Barry Scott?

Does Paul Murray look like the sort of man who is worthy of 60.5 words?

Or course he doesn’t. He is an absolute hero. A man whose was part of two Rangers-flavoured boards that have overseen the ‘same club’ experiencing calamity and trashing the football rulebook while ultimately stiffing the taxpayer and other creditors.

Paul Murray is an exceptional ‘football man’ who deserves more than a 121-word statement shared with an adverting construct.

Indeed, our wonderful Saint is worth lots of words! All of them fawning and written by your humble correspondent without any specific questions seemingly being asked about what may have prompted him to resign from Clubtiedom and walk out of Blazerville.

The Declaration of Arbroath must have its head in its hands at this gross affront to Scotland’s greatest son. This paper wishes it a speedy recovery.

Let the number 121 forever rot in infamy. For it is the number of the beast who failed to pay exaggerated tribute to the greatest of all really-real Real Rangers* Men.

May we all follow-follow the example of St Paul Of The Blessed 121 Words.


Meanwhile… 😉

Paul Murray rescued Rangers … it should be to Dave King’s eternal shame he has forgotten that


NB Remember folk’s, it’s just a bit of exaggerated satirical fun…

Media, Satire, Scottish Football

Money And Sporting Advantage

Good Evening.

The Clumpany’s ethereal eye was caught by this piece in the Daily Record (yes, it still exists…).

How I laughed at the idea that having more money available to spend on players might confer a sporting advantage!

What a ridiculous suggestion!

I assumed that the Record’s finest subsequently took Mr Windass outside and gave him a stern talking-to for making such an outrageous claim.

After all, we have been left in no doubt in recent years that having more money to spend on players does not result in greater success in Scottish football.

The very idea is clearly absurd.

However, as a humanitarian-minded ethereal entity I couldn’t help but be concerned for Windass after his unfortunate and humiliating mistake. After all, it can’t be nice to be in a position where your basic beliefs about how sport operates in Scotland are utterly toxic to those around you. Especially if the mass media is likely to be on your back.

So I gave Windass a call to see how he was.

To my astonishment he was absolutely fine!

He said that the Sevco PR operation had told him that the Record knew exactly where he was coming from, and that his comments had been great!

Confused, I asked Mr Windass what he meant by this.

He explained that the PR operation had instructed him that he had correctly referred to Celtic shamefully having more money to spend than the Ibrox outfit. As such, he had created an opportunity to put the ‘obsessed’ in their place and confirm the magnitude of Rangers’* historic achievements.

Windass told me that “the helpful PR person” had then reassured him that despite what almost everyone believed, and despite what the taxman may assert, the ‘same club’ ‘Rangers’ had actually always paid its players in chocolate coins. Chocolate coins which were also available to all other clubs in various pound shops across Scotland. Especially at Christmas, but also (preferably) in the New Year when they were often priced at two or three packs for a pound.

The truth of the matter, Windass was ‘told’, was that ‘Rangers’ NEVER had more actual money to spend than their rivals. Their alleged wealth back in the day was all based on chocolate coins.

As such, the Sevco PR operation was happy to endorse Windass’s views in the Record this week. Indeed, they felt that they were helpful in managing the expectations of fans who need to know that Celtic are brazenly spending their own money on players without so much as a by your leave.

So there you have it. Rangers gained no sporting advantage from having more money to spend on players than their competitors.

They only had chocolate.

And Celtic are ruining Scottish football by having their own hard-earned money to spend on better players as they see fit.


NB Remember folks, it’s just a big ‘WTF?’ at apparent inconsistencies in the ongoing Sevco reportage…

Media, Satire, Scottish Football

Barry Ferguson Got Lucky

Good Afternoon.

Not appearing in a mainstream publication anytime soon…


“Barry Ferguson Got Lucky” says the rest of humanity

Everyone reckons that without a massive slice of luck, Barry Ferguson wouldn’t be darkening our door with the sort of opinions that are usually worthy of a very late-night conversation in the pub.

By W.T.F. He-Saying

Sometimes you have to marvel at how far you can get in life on the back of being able to pass a ball sideways and by having friends in the media who are still in love with a period of Scottish football which is synonymous with industrial-scale cheating, and which ultimately left tax-funded public services out of pocket.

You have to say that Barry Ferguson is probably The Man when it comes to luck, luck, lucky, luck-type stuff!

  • He gets paid to talk about playing in a European final despite being part of a side whose tactics and entertainment value could get football stopped if they were repeated too often. How lucky is that?
  • He gets a platform to bleat about his side effectively being cheated out of a chance of European glory because the domestic authorities wouldn’t extend the season. Despite the fact that they did actually extend the season. How lucky is that?
  • He gets airtime and column inches to talk about international football despite literally giving international football two fingers during his playing days. How lucky is that?

Listen, I am not trying to begrudge Barry anything. OK, maybe I am… So here are some more points…

  • He gets to talk about managers and their shortcomings when, well, let me just say “Clyde FC languishing in League Two”. How lucky is that?
  • He is invited to give his opinion about what might be good for Scottish football despite having an EBT so large it could be mistaken for an airship. How lucky is that?
  • He enjoys the admiration of Kenny Macintrye. How lucky is that? Actually, that’s not really very lucky at all. But he presumably gets paid to appear on Sportsound. So how lucky is THAT?!

Don’t include me in any rush to say “Barry’s played a blinder. He had a successful playing career and is now deservedly offering his insights to an interested public”.

I’m sorry, but I am not having that. He’s enjoying the sort of luck that will probably give him a gullible Daily Record audience which will lap up any old clueless sh*te about how Sevco are ‘closing the gap and didn’t deserve to lose to ten-man Celtic last weekend.

What’s that you say?

Celtic boss Brendan Rodgers is no managerial mastermind and got lucky against Rangers – Barry Ferguson

Wow! Barry Ferguson, you are probably the luckiest man alive!


Media, Satire, Scottish Football, SFA

Slagging Off The SFA

Good Evening.

Possibly not appearing in a newspaper near you tomorrow


Editorial: The Future of the SFA

This paper makes the big call that everyone has been waiting for.

By Ed. Band-Wagon

The Afternoon Guffaw has never shied away from confronting the biggest issues in Scottish football.

From the aeroplane legroom enjoyed by senior administrators, to the quality of biscuits in the press box, we have always lived up to the expectations of our loyal-yet-demanding readers and spoken truth to power. Or at least spoken to power. OK, we have doffed a cap to them, and given them our coats on a cold day.

From the warm applause we offered to the authorities for helping Rangers* to emerge from liquidation in 2012, to the palm leaves we scattered before Dave King in 2015, whenever there has been a boat to be rocked we have come over all seasick and gone for a lie-down.

So it will come as no surprise to you to read that we have decided to take a bold stance on the current circumstances surrounding the SFA. With no chief executive or Scotland manager in place, with problems in securing sponsors, and with a huge decision to make about the future of Hampden Park, this is a time for us to nail our colours to the mast.

Let there be no doubt, this paper has taken a long hard look at everything that has happened in Scottish football in recent years, and assessed the contribution of the governing body to it.

Having done this, we have absolutely no qualms in expressing our unshakable conviction that the SFA might not be quite as good as it should be.

While we wouldn’t wish to see the organisation abolished, or completely restructured, or substantively altered, or changed all that much, we do think that the Hampden power-brokers need to ask themselves some searching questions, and should commission a review of the standard of toilet roll on offer at the SFA’s HQ.

This is no half-hearted call on the part of this newspaper. We want the review to be comprehensive and encompass the toilet roll in both the gents’ and the ladies’.

However, we are also clear that the review needs to be constructive. There is nothing to be gained from pandering to the foaming-at-the-mouth elements on social media who would only pollute a debate about toilet roll by suggesting that they wouldn’t wipe their anonymous arses with our rag of a newspaper.

So we therefore invite – and indeed trust – the SFA to do the right thing in-house.

Our readers can rest assured that this paper will be unrelenting in its determination to hold the SFA to account. We will be like a dog with a bone. Especially if your image of a dog with a bone is a playful Andrex puppy looking for approval and cuddles.



NB Remember folks, it’s just a bit of fun…