Date: 23rd October 2009 at 12:37pm
Written by:

*The lads gather in the dressing room to discuss tactics for Wolverhampton Wanderers*

MON: OK lads, it’s Wolves away. This is a massive club, steeped in history.

*The Dressing Room erupts with laughter*

MON: Joking aside, don’t underestimate them, even if they are rubbish.

*a shaking Delph raises his hand*

MON: Fabian?

Delph: Boss … are they wolfmen? Stilyan said they’re wolfmen and that if they bite me…

MON: No Fabian, they may bite you, they don’t know any better but they’re not wolfmen, there’s no such thing.

Delph: What about Martin Keown and that man that was on Big Brother?

MON: they’re not wolfmen …. Well Keown … No, there’s no such thing. Stilyan will you stop frightening young Delph.

Petrov: OK, sorry boss.

MON: Hang on a minute, are you dressed as a vampire!?

*Petrov unclips his cape and removes his plastic fangs and black wig*

Petrov: No boss, it’s traditional bulgarian dress.

MON: Oh OK then, anyway… what was I saying?

Collins: You were going to select the team boss.

MON: Ah yes…

*MON selects the team based on form and position leaving only the right back position*

MON: and the right back is …..

*MON produces a silk bag and roots around in it pulling out a screwed up piece of paper and unravelling it*

MON: John Carew.

*MON points to Carew, Carew removes his headphones*

Carew: I won, I won! What’s my prize?

*The lads queue waiting to hug MON in ‘the cuddle chair’ before emerging on to the pitch*

Carew: Lads? Lads!? What did I win? … In the draw?