History Will Absolve Me

 “A spectre is haunting Europe …” began flame-haired Marxist and PFAI Commander-in-Chief, Stephen McGuinness.  The  former centre-half and one-time Paul Scholes impersonator was addressing a packed room of flag-waving St. Patrick’s Athletic Footballers who had been alienated from the produce of their labour by billionaire property developer and lifelong-Pats-supporter-with-absolutely-no-hidden-agenda-whatsoever, Gareth Kelleher. “The tradition of all dead generations weighs like a nightmare on the brains of the living,” McGuinness continued.

Neil Harney heeded, Derek Pender pondered, and Anto Murphy mused, while Danny North tweeted ‘union meeting then home for call of duty & ruby murray #thegoodlife’

McGuinness’s speech had a good 20 minutes to run but having noticed a hint of boredom creeping onto Dave Mulcahy’s face he decided to wrap up early. “Our demands are most modest,” he said, raising a clenched fist, “we only want the earth.” The players rose to their feet and spontaneously launched into The Internationale.  As always they gave 110% but, truth be told, some of them didn’t know all the words and could do nothing but move their lips and try to look as impassioned as those around them.

Stephen McGuinnes is beacon of light in a world of darkness, Nelson Mandela

It had been a trying week for all concerned.  Monies were owed and bellies were grumbling.  Emaciated and malnourished, Shane McFaul barely had the strength to get through more than a couple of hours on FIFA 11; Connor Kenna was offering guided tours around Richmond Park for a fiver a piece, and Shane Guthrie had resorted to getting a third job going house to house changing the battery in people’s smoke detectors.

But now here they all were in the lounge of the Black Lion, eagerly awaiting the arrival of billionaire property developer and lifelong-Pats-supporter-with-absolutely-no-hidden-agenda-whatsoever, Gareth Kelleher, in the hopes of thrashing out an agreement. The billionaire property developer and lifelong-Pats-supporter-with-absolutely-no-hidden-agenda-whatsoever was confident of emerging victorious. Thanks to his Chicago connections and considerable largesse he was able to fight his corner with the help of a crack team of celebrity lawyers led by Michael Clayton, Ally McBeal, and Matlock.

The players' demands are simply outrageous in the current economic climate, Michael Clayton

The PFAI were not short of powerful allies either. Earlier that week McGuinness had taken to the streets of Inchicore in order to canvass the people and had managed to arrange a meeting with representatives of the Residents Association. In a packed Oblates hall McGuinness delivered a speech so passionate and sincere in its sentiment that those in attendance will never forget it.

“We declare the right of the players of St. Patrick’s Athletic Football Club to performance-related bonuses, and to the unfettered control of St. Patrick’s Athletic Football Club’s destinies, to be sovereign and indefeasible, “ he began. “ The long usurpation of that right by an absentee board of directors has not extinguished the right, nor can it ever be extinguished except by the destruction of the St. Patrick’s Athletic players. In every generation the St. Patrick’s Athletic players have asserted their right to performance-related bonuses and compensation for loss of earnings: six times during the past ten days Daryl Kavanagh alone has asserted it in arms. Standing on that fundamental right and again asserting it in arms in the face of UEFA, we hereby proclaim St. Patrick’s Athletic Football Club as the property of the PFAI, and we pledge our lives and the lives of our comrades-in-arms to the cause of performance-related bonuses, compensation for loss of earnings, and its exaltation among the clubs of the UEFA Europa League.”

McGuinness’s words brought the house down and he left the stage to a chorus of applause before being embraced by Tommy Gavin – former New York firefighter and current Chairperson of the Inchicore Residents Association.

“Well,” Stephen asked, “can we count on the support of the Inchicore Residents Association?”

“The IRA are fully behind you,” Tommy assured.

Tommy Gavin, Chair of the Inchicore Residents Association

And so the scene was set for confrontation.

Kelleher, the billionaire property developer and lifelong-Pats-supporter-with-absolutely-no-hidden-agenda-whatsoever, entered the Black Lion with his legal team in tow. Dave Mulcahy, presumably operating under instruction, immediately floored Matlock with a two-footed lunge. The hot dog-loving lawyer made a right of meal of it, clutching his face and rolling around in feigned agony until Anthony Buttimer gave Muller his marching orders, at which point Matlock made a miraculous recovery.

Before proceedings could get under way in earnest Buttimer had something of a bone to pick with the attire of McGuinness and Kellher, the billionaire property developer and lifelong-Pats-supporter-with-absolutely-no-hidden-agenda-whatsoever. It seemed the billionaire property developer and lifelong-Pats-supporter-with-absolutely-no-hidden-agenda-whatsoever’s Blueshirt clashed with the pink one of McGuinness, and after much deliberation and the possibility of postponing talks indefinitely, Buttimer ordered McGuinness to turn his shirt inside out.

Without further ado both parties locked horns. Michael Clayton opened his brief case and took out the club’s copy of player contracts. McGuinness did the same.

“Tell me, Red, what do you want?” Clayton asked.

 “You know exactly what I want.”

“I do: too much.”

“Respect has no cost.”

 “I think you’ll find it does. We’ve already made a generous offer.”

“What you’ve offered is small potatoes in comparison to the increased gate receipts and prize money.”

small potatoes

Things carried on in this vein for the best part of an hour, neither side prepared to budge an inch, before Daryl Kavanagh – who had been threatening to form a more militant breakaway faction since day one – leapt from his chair. “Freedom comes from the barrel of a gun,” he declared.

Clayton took umberage at  this. “I'm not the guy you kill,” he said. ”I'm the guy you buy! Are you so fucking blind that you don't even see what I am? I sold out Arthur for 80 grand. I'm your easiest problem and you're gonna kill me?”

Buttimer brandished his second red and third reds of the evening, sending both Clayton and Kavanagh for early baths.

“This is way beyond my pay scale,” he said. “I’m calling these talks off.”

Kelleher, the billionaire property developer and lifelong-Pats-supporter-with-absolutely-no-hidden-agenda-whatsoever, and his legal team made for the exit. He cast a glance back at McGuinness, lifting a line straight from the Coen brothers’ Big Lebowski: “Your revolution is over, Mr. McGuinness. Condolences. The bums lost. My advice is to do what your parents did; get a job, sir. The bums will always lose. Do you hear me, Mr. McGuinness? The bums will always lose. The bums will always lose.”

“History will absolve me,” McGuinness retorted. “History will absolve me.”

To be continued…