An Ode to Chuck

The Holy Poet turns his attention to the Man who continues to make us  all smile:

Chuck.

So like the anti-Christ he’s back but not on bended knee

He’s back as a consultant complete with hefty fee

His first job up, to face the press, like a King upon his throne

But surely he must know now, he sits up there alone

Straight talking with his comments, he just doesn’t think things through

And slates the board, the coach, the team, he doesn’t have a clue

It’s as though he’s on a mission and with a tongue that’s like a rasp

He just lets rip with no remorse and the venom of an asp.

The fans are cringing as he speaks and want the man out now

But worse goes on behind the scenes as Watty takes his final bow

And then he digs out Sally, tells him, win the league and cup

Prove that you’re a manager or else your time is up

But Sally’s a west of Scotland man and never walks away

If confrontation’s what he wants he can have it any day.

But who asked him to come back and can someone tell them why?

Is it to take care of investments or to tell them all his lies?

Surely they don’t need his service, they’ve ten million in the bank

But when he asks regards the rest, he just draws on a blank.

Some things never change in life, you either sink or swim

And like Craigie bhoy, I think wee Chuck, is like Hector, just a Tim.

The Holy Poet