What A Load Of Old Rubbish

The new shirts then.

There was me attempting to distract us from the dark forebodings of the transfer season quite unaware of the mood lightening not to mention out and out comedy value of the new shirts.

This latest collection from Maison Cluster**** has me feeling like I should be behind glass in a museum. I am no longer the target demographic.

The issue of course is that for all the good that being the customer does you, as a buyer you can only purchase or decline that which they lay before you. Like many jobs, bravery is a less spoken of requisite. It isn’t brave to place an order for two and a half million shirts. Brave is saying thanks for the coffee mush and leaving.

Puma do themselves no favours here and the overwhelming vibe is not that of one last hurrah, but a mumbled, ‘laters’ and the soft clunk of a chubb lock.

For those moaning in the recent past about designs, this launch must have had Michael Corleone’s words echoing in their minds. ‘Our true enemy has yet to reveal himself’. ‘Cos he fecking has now, son.

As discussed previously, whoever thought that Aurasmatosis was a good name for anything wants not firing, but shooting. Two rounds from close range in the back of the head to ensure that was their last idea. Ever.

Yet incredibly the howler of a name is compounded by the font. I don’t know what it’s called but it looks like something a regional TV company might have used to look futuristic and ‘edgy’ in the 1970’s.

And this unsightly cocktail  is compounded again by opting for a logo sized for people who buy their spectacles from Poundland,

To wrap it all up of course as the bard said, the sickest joke is the price of the medicine. The wrong end of fifty sheets to look a pillock. And if you opt for a goalie shirt to look as if you’ve escaped from somewhere.

The issue is cowardice. A bit strong, H. This are only replica shirts, mate. True, but when will a football club have the Bow Locks to give the fans something decent? These polyester nasties have had their time and we’re rapidly returning to that 1980’s era of computer generated muck.

The sheer enormity of the production scale needed by clubs is such that you could go to a decent factory and get a 100% cotton shirt made to a pretty high spec and probably make a better margin that the recycled crisp packets generate.

  • Aurasma. He’s a brash bi-curious Canadian beat cop who also bends the law now and again to make sure he always gets his man.
  • Aurasma. When you want to stand out from the mild & bitter drinkers. Either down at your local or in the discoteque, ask for it by name.
  • Aurasma. For centuries man has sought to bottle desire. Now Yardley for men have captured the most seductive pheromones imaginable.

I’m off to find a cardigan and listen to an episode of Round The Horne whilst I potter.








  1. Here are some things you can do in the kits till the footie starts the Blue one you can have a scrap in the Black one you can shag in and the white one sadly get buried in. Role on the yanks and there computerised shirts that tell you how far players have run, we will no who is the lazy bastards

    1. I think first game of the season in the yank shirts we should all shout ‘Deeefence’ & ‘Touchdown’ all through the game… Like the good ‘ol days with Kasey at the Park Lane.

  2. Just on a tangent, welcome back BMJ. Good to see him back in British football. Good luck at Fulham… Although not too much good luck twice a season when we play them!

  3. BMJ gave some hints in his Sky Sports interview today that there is still a heap of scorn over his departure from WHL

    1. Yeah but the back-stabbers who done him, are now elsewhere. I was convinced at the time that Levy HAD to let him go because Comolli had rallied Paul Kemsley and a few board members (who later went to Newcastle) to outvote him. As chairman he was then instructed by the board to sack BMJ. The leak was also likely (imo) the work of the lowlife Kemsley and/or the rodents in his social circle.

      I think there is still a good relationship between Jol and Levy and I am hoping we might still find a lot of love for the jolly giant when he walks away carry a wood-cart with J**** and PSB and maybe some other detritus to free up shirt numbers and locker spaces for some football players.

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