Language Barrier

Bernard Cribbins



Hi Bernard here, back after a day off from recalling all the great stories from the history of Adams Park. After looking at pants on Tuesday I’d like to look at swearing today. Fucking A. .

There is only one great story about swearing at Wycombe, and it goes like this, but before I start, lock the kids in a cupboard, put Granny in the microwave and the Vicar in the airing cupboard – Cribbins is talking about the business end of the alphabet and it’s going to get messy.

So anyway, Royston Osborne is leaving the pitch, Wycombe v Macclesfield ‘91, and the abuse being thrown at him would make a Dockers cheeks rosy red. A lone wolf character with thick but not unpleasant glasses, hair a blazing, is screeching the good stuff at full pelt,

“You’re a fucking c*nt Referee,” he screams.

In an attempt to bring decorum a concerned father, with his weeping children hanging onto his sta-pressed trousers, tries to reason with him,

“Look, I know you’re angry, but could you tone the language down a bit eh? There are kids around.”

The furious fan realises he’s gone too far, and holds his hands up,

“Yeah sorry mate, no problem. Really sorry, you know what it’s like.”

And with that, the fan turns back to the pitch, and at top of his voice shouts:

“You’re a c*nt Referee. You’re a c*nt.”

Always be a poet, even in prose.

Bernardooooo

26.09.2008. 08:45

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