"WHO WEARS THE BOOTS IN THIS HOUSE?"
A CONTEMPORARY PLAY IN ONE ACT
The Scene: A football playerís house (temporarily) in London. Mrs Football Player sits, her eyes welling
with tears as she fondly looks at a thin (very thin) booklet entitled ďThings To Love About LiverpoolĒ. Enter Mr
Mr Football Player: (Excitedly) Itís done, luv, Iíve got me transfairĒ
Mrs Football Player: Oh luv, are we going Ďome then?
MFP: Weeelllll, not exactly luv, but it is closer to Ďome, and I think youíre gonna luv it there.
MsFP: (Not too sure) Luv it where, luv?
MFP: (A note of caution in his voice)Aston Villa.
MsFP: Aston Villa? Oo Ďeck, that sounds lovely. (Tenderly) Aston Villa. Fair rolls off the tongue, dunt
it, luv. Sounds dead posh, that, Aston Villa. (Puts her arms around MFP) Itís not Liverpool, but itís all right
if it gets us out of London. Just as long as itís not Bloody Birmingham. (Laughs)
Over her shoulder the audience can see Mr Football Playerís face take on a stricken expression.
The Scene: The Media Room at Highfield Road. Coventry City Manager Gordon Strachan sits at a table reading
a prepared statement for the assembled reporters. (Both of them)
Strachan: (Scottishly) ...and so we are very pleased to announce the transfer to Coventry City from Real
Betis of Spain, Robert Jarni. The transfer fee is 2.6 million pounds which, I am sure you will agree, in this day
and age is a very good price for a defender of such international stature and experience. Jarni's got tremendous
pace and is a great professional who will give us an extra dimension We've still got to get a work permit for him,
but that shouldn't be any problem considering Croatia reached the World Cup semifinals. .
The Scene: Outside Villa Park, Birmingham. Mr and Mrs Football Player stand arguing.
MrsFB: I said as long as it wasnít Bloody Birmingham, dinít I?. And where are we? Bloody Birmingham! Well,
I am not living here, do you understand that, David? So you had better get on your bike and do somat about it!
MFP: But, luv, itís a done deal. I just got transfaired here. I canít go back in there and ask for another
move, can I? I havenít even been Ďere a week. Besides Iíll gerra chance to play here.
MrsFP: Well Iíll tell you this for nuthin my lad. If we stay here you may gerra chance to play here. But
(Pointing to significant areas of her body) you wonít gerrany chance of playing here, understand? Now I want you
to gerron the phone to that nice Mr Johnson and tell him you want to come back to Everton.
MFP: Mr Johnson. But he knows bugger all about football. (Smiles) Yeh, that just might werk.
The Scene: The office of John Gregory, Manager, Aston Villa Football Club
Gregory: (Angrily) What the Ďell does he think this is, a bloody day camp? (Mimicking a scouse accent) Me
wife doesnít want to live anywhere but Liverpool. Bugger! Wasting my bloody time.
The intercom on the desk buzzes.
Secretaryís Voice: Mr Gregory. Itís that nice Mr Ferguson from Manchester on the phone.
JG: Bloody players pissing me about, and now some tartan bastard is going to try to steal me best striker.
Right, Iíll sort him out. (Snatches up phone) 16 Million quid. And not a bloody penny less, you whisky swigging
The Scene: A Villa (not Aston) In Seville, Spain. Mr and Mrs Robert Jarni are arguing.
Jarni: But itís a deal, I have agreed. I am being sent to Coventry.
Mrs Jarni: No, David Unsworth is being sent to Coventry. By his wife until he can swing a deal to go back
to Everton. Ha Ha, pretty good, no? But I have wasted my time studying English humour. I will not go to Coventry.
Mr Lorenzo Sanz, the Chairman of Real Madrid, visited while you were out and showed me black and white pictures
of Coventry. It is a ruin. The buildings have no windows and itís big tourist attraction, the cathedral is nothing
but a pile of stone.
RJ: Right. I will not go to Coventry. Where would you like to go?
MrsRJ: (Coyly) Madrid looks nice.
The Scene: Mrs Football Playerís Motherís house in Liverpool. Mr Football Player and Mrs Football Player
are in the midst of an argument.
MFP: But we have to go back to Bloody Birmingham, luv.
MrsFP: But you told me that nice Mr Johnson said you could come back.
MFP: He did, luv. But heís got a new manager now who knows a bit about football, and he wonít pay Villa
3 million quid for me. So thereís no choice. Itís back to Bloody Birmingham.
MsFP: (Icily) Donít forget to write.
The Scene: The Managers office at...
(AUTHORS NOTE: I will have to finish this later. My wife just told me to take out the garbage and mow the lawn..........Coming,
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