biginabox

The Seasiders and Ian
(Apologies to Stanley Holloway)

There’s a little seaside team called Blackpool.
What’s noted for football and fun.
And young Master Ian Holloway
Went there with a job to be done.

He didn’t think much to the stadium.
The stands was all piddlin and small.
There was no riots and nobody trampled.
In fact nothing to laugh at at all.

So seeking for further amusement,
They got promoted a division or two
Where there was Uniteds and Chelseas and Arsenals
And money and cups not a few.

They caused quite a stir in le League Premiere.
They’d forgot they were not meant to win.
In their shirts the colour of stewards
On a day out to sunny King’s Lynn.

There were one great big team called the Villa
In claret and blue they were dressed.
And since a big match were on at ‘weekend
Ian gave ten of his lads a quick rest.

Now Ian had heard about Villa.
How they was all nervous and tame.
And seeing as how he’d got nothing to lose
Told his lads: ‘Play your natural game’.

T’were a right proper upper and downer.
That Wednesday night clash there’s no doubt.
The crowd cheered and clapped their approval.
And some paid again on’t way out!

But the lads up at football headquarters
Were watching, and said ‘What’s to do?‘
There’s far too much fun here for comfort.
We’ll stop that or they’ll all want some too!’

So they fined little Blackpool a fortune
For playing the game with some zip.
While United and City were walking the park
Like pensioners on a day trip.

The F.A. were quite nice about it
Saying ‘No-one was really to blame.’
And hoped that Ian and Blackpool
Had enough money to play one one more game.

At this Ian got proper blazing.
‘And thank you sirs kindly’ said he.
‘Run our legs off each week playing football
To feed Rupert Murdoch – not me!’