The President knew that in the morning he’d be entering hostile territory as he headed south towards Hampden. This was Dallas country and his odour lingered in the huge BT Stand like a sweaty jock strap. Little did the new President know that forces were already moving against him and his dream of leading his club to another Treble. Of course the Mob wanted him stopped in his tracks. If anyone was going to win Trebles it was the old established Mafiosi who despite languishing in prison after financial scandals brought them down still thought they were the people. Their hatred had smouldered, eating them up for three long years as they bummed around the flop houses of the lower leagues. Then there were the politicians, those who sat in their offices on the fourth floor dreaming dreams of how to reinstate the mob to their former glory. They didn’t want some uppity Norwegian with his Green gang muscling in on their territory. This was Hampden, their stamping ground and no Micks would be lifting trebles here if they could help it. But who would do the deed and how could they portray their actions as the work of a lone nut?
Lee Harvey McLean was known for shooting his mouth off around Dallas land. He had built a reputation as a small time fixer who could make results change by simply looking the other way. Rumour had it he had a whistle with no pea in it just in case the Green gang wanted a penalty. He had a small group of acolytes around him most notably 'Bumbling Billy' the Linesman and Blind Bert the fourth official. McLean’s phone jarred him out of a dream filled sleep in which he was frantically throwing red cards at a huge hooped monster advancing on him. A voice on the other end of the line said simply, ‘McLean, operation Treble Buster is on… Stop the Micks!’ The phone clicked off and there was silence. He knew that in the morning he’d get the call to travel with his gang to Dallas land and do the job he loved more than any other.
Most of you will recall where you were that fateful day as the President’s motorcade wound its way past the Dealey Plaza Ballroom and on to Dallas Land. Vice President Collins, who knew Dallas land well, filled the President in on a few basics. ‘There are a lotta rednecks around here who would never back the Greens but security will make sure things go well. Relax and enjoy the day.’ The motorcade pulled into the huge bulk of the Shug Dallas Building and the President got his team ready for the challenges ahead. It would be a big day if they played their cards right. Watching them arrive were mob figures Camp Bell ‘the EBT man’ and a small time compliance enforcer known only as ‘Vinnie.’ Their eyes met and the EBT man nodded, it was going down today. The pieces were falling into place and nothing could halt their plan now. The Micks didn’t know what was going to hit them.
As the President took his place of honour in front of an adoring crowd he had no idea that his dreams would soon be in tatters. Things began well when his Minister for Dutch Affairs scored early on. But as the clock ticked towards 1.30pm Lee Harvey McLean strode onto the scene to weave his spell. No one was quite sure what they saw happen that day but thankfully Abraham Zanutter, a Green Party Camera man caught the act in all its foulness on his state of the art iPhone. What is showed was truly awful...firstly, a Presidential Secret Service man known only as ‘The Thumb’ and looking conspicuous in his new rug, headed the ball towards goal. One of the Mob’s bag men, a three time loser known as the ‘Meek King’ threw up his arm and punched the ball clear. It was then we saw Lee Harvey McLean in all his masterful wickedness. He didn’t call for the spot kick or flash the red card, he just looked the other way. His enforcer ‘Blind Bert’ would later claim a goat had obscured his line of vision. The President looked on in horror as his dream died in that instant. He knew then he was in Dallas land and there was no way he’d be leaving with a victory…
The following day the Mob called in a few favours and the ‘Bleating Micks’ stories did the rounds in the press. Lee Harvey McLean was spirited away but the Zanutter film opened the eyes of many who demanded an enquiry. It was then Vinnie stepped in to say that the one known as the ‘Meek King’ would not be welcome in Dallas land on cup final day. His Capo, the erudite and eloquent John ‘Yogi’ Hughes’ stated that the Meek King was ‘Just a Patsy, a prawn in a bigger game, ken?’ As the Green Party supporters viewed the Zanutter film they saw the act in all its glorious shamefulness. One commented that ‘It was plain to see that the Meek King’s arm goes back and to the left… back and to the left… back and to the left…’
We all remember where we were on that fateful day when the Presidents dreams lay shattered on the green turf of Dallas land. Vice President Collins, dressed in a fetching pill box hat, said through his tears, ‘My fellow Tims, ask not what your club can do for you, ask what you can do for your club, for we have been royally screwed this sad day.’
It is rumoured that an SFA commission will be set up to investigate the heinous crime but only after their first commission looking into the death of Robert the Bruce finishes their report. Few have faith in them as their previous work on the death of Rangers reported back that they were in fact still alive and living in Normandy with a man called Charles.
Conspiracy theories abound and fill the void as millions ask....why?