In a mysterious occurrence, far too complicated to explain to anyone lacking a degree in quantum physics, Watford’s tenacious midfield lion, Roger Joslyn, has been transported from 1978 to today’s first-team squad. Caught in a maelstrom of conflicting ideologies, Jaws is forced to adapt to modern life. Colin Payne finds out more...
Following another particularly gruelling training session, in which Roger played on in a rather competitive five-a-side tournament despite dislocating his shoulder, only taking the shortest of breaks to smash it back into place against the doorway to the giant inflatable facility, our ferocious, free-flowing, forward-thinking, footballing fans’ favourite is looking perplexed.
Having insisted, despite great protestations from the club’s financial executive, to be paid in cash (banks are for people with something to hide), Roger has been handed a large C4 manila envelope. Upon opening it he is left dumbfounded.
He is approached by the ever-pleasant, but structurally fragile, club captain Tom Cleverly.
Tom: “Hey Rog, what’s up mate?”
Roger: “I’ve just been paid, and there’s something wrong.”
Tom: “Really? They’re usually spot on.”
Roger: “There’s got to be 60 grand there!”
Tom: “Yeah, must be a bit of a bummer that, but you’re seen as a squad player. If you were starting every week you’d be on the same as us.”
Roger: “But there’s 60 grand! Are they paying me annually?”
Tom (laughing): “No mate, that’s for the month.”
Roger (looking at the envelope again): “I might need to get myself a bigger holdall. Where’s the nearest Thomas Cook? Torremolinos here I come!”