I should have been invited to meet the Queen : the chronicle.ie

I should have been invited to meet the Queen

| April 18, 2014

Dear Alan,

I was prompted to write to you when I read last week’s letter from David in Manchester. You see I have been a great United fan all my life. Some of my greatest memories are of visits to Old Trafford and the dinners we used to have before the games.

I often went over without a penny in my pocket and came back bulging with cash. Oh those were the days.

Ah but Alan those days are long gone now and David has done to United what Cowen did to our little club here in Ireland after I left. I suppose it really is difficult to follow great men but the two of them made a right bags of it, didn’t they?.

But Alan enough about United, although I could talk all day about their problems and what needs to be done. You see I have troubles of my own.

There was a time not too long ago when I was the toast of the nation. I couldn’t go to any part of the country without people rushing up to kiss me, slap me on the back and even shove fist-fulls of euros into my pockets.

Sure I had so much money at one stage I was afraid to take it to the bank. Instead I dug a big hole in the back garden and buried it there. I was lucky I did that because years later a crowd of fellas in wigs came after me and you know what, if they had found the money I swear they’d have taken it for themselves

Then I was really King of the country. I could walk on water. You may think I joking but honest to God, I could. The whole place around here was flooded one time and in the middle of the night I went out into the floods and had my photo taken just to prove that I really was magical.

But as I said those days are long over. Now people don’t want to know me, I don’t get invited to anything and even when I go to my local pub I can’t be sure that some eegit won’t throw a punch in my direction.

Then last week I was sitting at home, turned on the TV and there was that little Higgins fella and his missus waltzing around Windsor Castle with the Queen. I was fuming. A few years ago he’d have been lucky to get into Legoland in Windsor, let alone the Castle.

I was just getting over the shock of seeing him when up popped old Balaclava McGuiness. I almost fainted. He looked like an import from the House of Lords with his tails and tie. I really thought I was seeing things. I knew it wasn’t the drink because I am off it for Lent.

But then came the final straw. In marched  Dame Enda himself. He was laughing and joking with all the Lords and ladies as if he knew what he was talking about. Alan do they not realise that none of them would be there only for me. I made it all possible. But now I am a forgotten man, Gone, just a footnote in history.

I was so depressed by the sight of Enda, Balaclava and the rest of them that I took to the bed and I haven’t been out since.  Alan is this what I devoted my life’s work to achieve——-Little Michael, Dame Enda and Balaclava dining with the Queen?.

If I had known this was how it was going to turn out I don’t think I would have bothered. And you know while they were dining with more knives and forks in front of  each of them than I have in my entire house, all I had was a chicken curry from the local takeaway. I am really depressed. What should I do?.


Dear Bertie,

I can fully understand your upset. But I think you have just got to pull yourself together and face the world again. Go out to the garden and dig up some of that money you buried all those years ago—–you don’t have to worry now the tribunals are all closed up—–and take yourself off for a break.

You could go to Windsor yourself. It’s a beautiful place at this time of the year. Get yourself a table a Windsor races, take a boat trip up the Thames and take a Selfie of yourself with Windsor Castle in the background.

Post the picture on your Facebook page and some people will think you were there as part of the State visit. Even if they don’t you could keep staring at in and in time you will imagine you were there and it will boost your confidence no end.

While on your travels I would suggest that you don’t go to Manchester. If you go to Old Trafford you will come away only more depressed and the days are long gone when you would have your pockets stuffed with cash after a game. I hear the Glaziers are very tight with money.

Take care of yourself


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