Dear Sam: Brian Williams

Dear Sam,

I know I promised to keep you posted about what people are saying in the stands but, believe me mate, you don’t want to know what was being said during the Stoke game. I know you’ve got broad shoulders, but nobody wants to hear that sort of language — especially when it’s coming out of the family enclosure. Best draw a veil over proceedings there, I reckon. We weren’t all that clever at Southampton either, were we? Still — we did manage to overcome the mighty Cheltenham, so fair play for that.

The boy Ravel Morrison was different class that night. Mind you, someone needs to sort out the ticketing arrangements. The queues went halfway back to the station. Did no one know we were coming? Have a word, will you Sam? Can’t say I enjoyed the international break. Still, we were all delighted to see Frank Lampard get his 100th cap for England. He was always a big favourite at Upton Park.

There was a time I thought he might come back — I remember him going down the tunnel after we’d giving him another rousing cheer and he made a sign that suggested he only wanted two more seasons at Chelsea. But that was some years ago, so I may have misunderstood what he meant by those two fingers. What’s going on with Andy Carroll? You’d think a big lump like that would be able to survive a knock in training without taking the next four months off. I do hope we haven’t signed ourselves another Sicknote. Get one of the backroom boys to tell you about Kieron Dyer. He was here four years and barely kicked a ball in anger.

I’m not one to tell tales out of school, but Dyer wasn’t exactly the most popular player we’ve ever had — nobody was ever going to dedicate a stand to him like they did with Sir Trev and Saint Bobby. They could have named the treatment room after him, though. With Big Andy out of action, another striker might have been useful. Didn’t you think of buying one when the transfer window was still open?

I can see one or two people getting a bit impatient if we don’t score again before Christmas. Not me, you understand — I recognise that you are tactical genius, but not everyone sees it that way. Still, what do they know, eh? Don’t s’pose there’s any chance of getting Carlton back into his old shirt now? Not going to fit him, is it? But you mustn’t blame yourself for the fact he couldn’t take rejection. You were well within your rights to let him go and there’s no reason for you to feel guilty about the fact he now is totally unemployable as a professional footballer.

We’ve all had girlfriends who’ve hit the Haagen Dazs after we’ve given them the elbow. Sorry to keep banging on about this, but I’m still not getting your emails. Could you check your address book to see if I’m in it? I have a horrible feeling I’ve been deleted for some reason.

Have you changed your internet provider recently? That can play havoc with your settings. Luckily my mate Angela is still receiving you loud and clear, so she’s forwarding anything she gets on to me. To be frank, your deep insights are a bit wasted on her but she does appreciate you taking the time and trouble to keep in touch.

The last one confused her a bit. I had to explain that Neil McDonald is your No 2 and because you are a busy man you sometimes get him to handle the communication side of things. He’s all right, but he hasn’t quite got your turn of phrase if I may say so. But, hey, that’s why you’re the boss and he’s a bloke no one’s ever heard of. Where did we get him from, as a matter of interest?

Did the Job Centre send him, or was he someone you’d met before? I reckon your gift of the gab could open up some interesting possibilities for you. I saw you on the telly with Freddie Flintoff and Jamie Redknapp in something called A League of Their Own and you came across very well. I thought you really showed ‘em what you’re made of with that challenge to see who eat the most camel’s testicles. You were awesome.

What I thought was, with Alan Hansen giving up Match of the Day there might be an opening for you. You’ve obviously got a lot in common: clearly you’re comfortable with a mouthful of bollocks, which is precisely what he’s been coming up with the past 22 years. Be lucky, Your mate behind the goal