so Magnusson, <br />the mastermind that's a joke <br />of West Hamateurs <br />has sacked Pardew <br /> <br />a scholarly note here <br />pardew is old norman French <br />for by God, as might appear <br />in some Shakespeare play, <br />'pardew, wench, thou hast a pair <br />of foaming jugs, I warrant...' <br /> <br />or in a later century of faith <br />by God comes victory to the worthy <br /> <br />or on the terraces, <br />by God it's time he was sacked <br /> <br />while Curbishley sounds <br />more like a 19th century novel: <br />'why sack the manager <br />when it's the millionaire players <br />who are at fault..', <br />he answered curbishly <br /> <br />well there you are, <br />at the end of the day <br />it's a game of two halves <br />and creating chances <br />if you'll excuse <br />the oxymoron <br /> <br />and talking of morons <br />the after-match interview <br />'how sorry are you to have lost today? ' <br /> <br />pardew, a curbish lout of an interviewer, i'faith..<br /><br />Michael Shepherd<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/0009-pardew-knave-he-swore-curbishly/
