Bert Tiddle wants to be the next England manager

Brooks Peck
Dirty Tackle

To: The Football Association (or as I call you, The F*** All, because that's what you know)

I'm Bert Tiddle and you've never heard of me. When I played for Sheffield United, Dave Bassett told me I would make a great manager one day. I found out later that he meant it in a sarcastic sort of way because he just saw me berate a reserve team player until the lad vomited pasta on himself. Apparently that's not something that's ever happened before. Dave Basset is a numpty.

Since you lot have finally gotten rid of that swarthy Mexican Fabian Capello, who knew nothing about the game we invented or how to have a face that doesn't look like a rotten potato, I've decided it's time old Bert fulfills his destiny and makes his debut as a manager in the very top job there is (I was talking about myself there and not someone else called Bert like that dead-eyed fellow on Sesame Street). Here's my CV and a picture of a nut bread...


-Born somewhere in England. (Take that Fabian).

-Played as a striker, unused substitute and first-ever "false 7" for Ipswich Town, Oldham Athletic, Coventry City, Sheffield United and at least eight to 10 other clubs in the old First and Second Divisions.

-One cap for the England B team in 1984 as a result of a clerical error.

-I also have 18 kids -- Keenan, Philbo, Orlando, Zinfandel, Avalanche, Pimento, Salamander, Accident, Cirrhosis, Flatulence, Dandruff, Migraine, Harlot, Jabulani, Hemorrhage, Montalban, Glaucoma and Bert Jr  -- which means I have experience dealing with a group of whinging, defective, and over-privileged young people who are always getting in trouble and aren't as good at football as I dreamed they would be.


-1987 FA Cup as a member of Coventry City Football Club.

-Only player in the history of the Croydon Municipal Sunday League to douse an opponent in medical waste.

- No. 1 Dad according to Cirrhosis, one of my 18 kids. But that's because his step-dad Raymond forgot to pick him up from school the day after I lost him in the market. Raymond's a knobhead.


-Not overly racist.
-Only resorts to violence if it feels right.
-Complete lack of empathy.
-Always right.
-Usually drunk.


-A freak vending machine accident on 25th of May, 1992 cost me my big toe and ended my playing career. I missed out on the perversions of the Premier League era, BUT I AM NOT BITTER ABOUT IT. Ask again and you'll be eating cake out of a hat.

-A second freak vending machine accident on 17th of October, 1993 cost me the top part of my index finger but did lead to a court case that made me wealthier than a Dutch prostitute.

-Still attracted to my ex-wife Debra even though she's a mentalist bint.


"I've never met a man who could defecate in public like Bert can." -- Sam Allardyce, best mate.

"Wait outside the house."-- Sir Alex Ferguson, quite good mate.

"I told you I don't care!"-- Alan Shearer, twunt.

So that's the best man for the job. You should know that I expect to be paid no less than £20,000 a year and that is NOT NEGOTIABLE. I look forward to hearing how impressed you are with my credentials. If you have me in for a pre-hire interview, that nut bread could be yours. Unless Glaucoma eats it first. He is incredibly fat. Like a diabetic rhinoceros.

I'm going to write Harry Redknapp offensive emails that he can't read.


What to Read Next