Back to our current predicament
By Curryman
Friday 16 Nov 2018 10:07:00
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The Dog posed an interesting question on this board recently when he asked ‘who are the real fans? The 150 outside BR last night or the 150 at Gillingham?’ Despite various replies and various opinions, to me, GJJW summed up the quandary of asking that question in his reply. GJJW said ‘I wouldn't dream of stating who a real BFC fan is. I simply don't know every individual’s specific circumstances etc. Everyone is different, and I can live with that. I just want my club back.’


The whole problem is in that answer, we all want our club back, we want once again to sit in our seats each Saturday, freezing our bits off at times, to simply watch our team, the mighty Blackpool, never mind the little Blackpool title, look at our history it is a proud one and we want to be proud of it again. But, we have a problem, and that problem doesn’t seem to be going anywhere quickly.


Everything in a supermarket has a use by date; a sell by date or a best by date and after the date expires, it is binned or now, sometimes given to a food bank. Likewise, we all have a date at which time we will expire, but none of us, fortunately, know when that is, otherwise chaos would reign. The same could be said for our infamous and reprehensible owner who has managed to bring chaos and disruption to our club without knowing when he will expire and I’m sure all supporters whoever or wherever they are, await the time when the expiry date is reached.


When that day arrives, we will not see the outpourings of grief that has been observed for the Leicester City owner, tragically killed with four others in that catastrophic helicopter crash, rather I can foresee people smiling, lifting a glass of something strong to toast his expiration. What a way to be remembered. If rumours are to be believed, and it would be nice to be a fly on the wall, as his family prepare their epitaph to him., or is that just more of the smoke and mirrors we have unfortunately come to expect from a family with little empathy for the great unwashed, otherwise known as the fans, the mob and goodness knows what else.


This is a man who promised a world class stadium, a stadium with a sliding roof and a retractable pitch, an enviable training ground, plus many other bells and whistles and some fanatics espoused it, some intriguers pretended to be convinced by it and some imbeciles actually believed it, and I count myself in that category, but some did not and the number of those who have now shifted sides to the unbelievers has increased markedly. 


Yes, he has rid us of the old stadium with its wooden stands that had been condemned during the 1950’s and replaced it, in part, with a new modern stadium and still with a temporary stand to the East. But, with whose money did he achieve all this? 


This is a man, who single-handedly ruined a football club through his avarice and greed, a greed that he seemed unable to control. A greed that consumed him so much so that he became the most despised individual in and around the Blackpool area and beyond, a man whose name is known and loathed throughout the football world; a man that some owners choose not to sit with, so sit with their fans. He is a man who despite his wealth decided, rather than try and placate the unrest he had caused, to instead threaten and sue those who he wrongly accused of sullying his name and reputation. His name and reputation have since been dragged through the courts, his utterances have been shown to be false and his accusers correct, the truth has come out, but to no avail, as yet.


This is a man who used his wealth and influence to satisfy his lust for young women; a man who throughout his life displayed a remarkable disregard for the conventional pieties; he is a man of contradictions and absurdities, which appear to have been spawned in the fevered imaginations of his love of the Orientals; a man who appears to be unusually relaxed on questions of sexual morality, who (in the words of Voltaire)”enjoyed freedom of both conscience and penis". This is a man whose lubricious tastes were his downfall ending in his jailing for rape, a sentence that should have meant he was not fit and proper to run a football club. Unfortunately as we fans, whoever we are, know too well the authorities who should have applied these rules have either acted far too slowly or in the case of the EFL, deemed it impossible to do so. What lame excuses they come up with are regularly shot down and ridiculed. Is there something more to this than meets the eye? One wonders.


Hopefully one day he will buy burgers for the players and then be immediately sanctioned by these same pusillanimous, lily-livered men in suits.


So, we await our knight in silver armour to come and rescue us on his white charger, and we wait, and we wait, and we wait and it’s painful, but the law is the law and it will take its time as always, it seems that our preferred saviour is gagged and unable to say a great deal; and is also the subject of being not fit and proper for a so called lesser wrongdoing. An offence recognised by only the EFL and the Kirgizstan Government, so those who cry out for some movement and for an end to the agony we have endured for far too long now have to appreciate that things do move slowly. There is an old saying, slowly, slowly, catchee monkey. I honestly believe that once things start to move, they will move apace, but what worries me is, if the antagonist in all this pops his clogs before any movement or before a suitable ending to his reign is achieved, we will face further delays.


Remember the smoke and mirrors, is someone still waiting in the wings to pile more misery on us?


Once everything is sorted, it will be like a desert in bloom when the barren land becomes fruitful due to the rain, in our case the conclusion. The 150 outside BR, the 150 at Gillingham and the thousands of others who have waited patiently for a finale, will finally get their club back. But how many more of us will have passed away before that date is obviously unknown and remains to be seen, age is no guide when it comes to life expectancy and it appears so often that the good ones go first. If that be the case, it doesn’t bode well for a quick finalization to this on running sore.

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