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Home arrow News arrow Latest arrow Lies, Rafa, And The Court: The Ballad Of Christian Purslow
Lies, Rafa, And The Court: The Ballad Of Christian Purslow PDF Print E-mail
Written by only 5 times Danny   
Friday, 22 October 2010
Liverpool FC had, in 2009, come their closest to securing the Premier League crown, having fallen late on in the challenge to Manchester United. It was simply one of the best seasons we'd had in years, containing mammoth victories away to the likes of  United and Real Madrid.

In June of the same year Liverpool appointed Christian Purslow, a financier with strong links to the Liverpool area (and apparent Liverpool fan) as the new managing director of the club. He was seen as the man to help the club finally gain the new investment it desperately craved after being destroyed by the Yank owners.

So then, all rosy in the garden. A Liverpool fan doing his level best to help the club out. Except 'Cecil' didn't do that at all. In fact, he very nearly contributed to the club's death.

In the early part of 2010, the need for investment had grew further, as debts had mounted even further due to cataclysmic interest payments the club owed to the Royal Bank of Scotland. Surely now was the time for Purslow to get up off his backside and do something. Do something for the club he loved.

So, what did he do? He attempted to arrange a deal with the Rhone group to buy a portion of the shares in the club, and let the two tumours at the top of our club remain in place. What kind of fan, apparently doing things in the best interests of his club, would let two cretins such as Hicks and Gillet stay on? In fact, what businessman would see selling the shares in an institution to any sort of investment company as positive? How would that be of any help? Rhone wanted nothing more than to make a quick buck out of the demise of Liverpool FC, and Purslow almost sanctioned that.

But, at least you were looking for investment it could be supposed. That's a decent sign, and at least you couldn't do anything worse than that now.

Except you did, far worse. In roughly the same period you were going behind our beloved manager's back to sign Joe Cole. Fair enough, he's a decent player, but what gives you the prerogative to try and do your own deals when you were only brought into the club to find investment? It's not Fantasy bloody Football Christian.

And then we get to the major point. The dismissal of Rafa Benitez. The man who  won us our 5th European Cup. The man who had fought for our club and our fans from when the Yanks took over to the moment you gave him his marching orders. The clearest case of mutual consent you've ever seen, eh Cecil? In fact, it was the biggest case of some jumped up fuckwit thinking he runs things and sacking my generation's Shankly, I've ever seen.

You'd gotten rid of the fine China then, and set about seeking to replace it with a paper cup from a kid's party.  The way you jetted of around the world looking to find our next manager was an absolute disgrace. Getting paid to fly thousands of miles to interview a couple of bellends nowhere near up to the job, after you'd sacked somebody proven capable. Sickening.

And who did we end up with? Good ol' Uncle Roy of course! And now we're rooted to the relegation zone, constantly stuck watching Christian Poulsen and Paul Konchesky knock the ball sideways and out for a throw-in respectively. We're having to endure the worst performances from a Liverpool side I've ever seen.

And after all of this, we had to employ someone else to finally get us that investment. Martin Broughton picked up the job you'd failed and helped get us the deal with NESV. Whilst all of this was going on, you're sat there in court (after having done nothing but pile misery on the club) projecting yourself to part of some sort of superhero legion saving our club. You weren't. You were a little snide who ruined our club, then pumped his fists outside of court like you'd saved us all on your precious little own.

And after all of this you'd done, you were a hero! The media and even some forgetful reds thanking you and singing your praises like you'd actually done something worthwhile during your time. You even got a nice corporate thank you off the new owners, and toddled on your way with you big fat pay cheque, having helped to ruin, and almost destroy, Liverpool Football Club.

Christian, you were a small, dark spot of dirt marking Liverpool FC. And now that  speck has been removed forever, the only thing left to say is:

FUCK OFF PURSLOW!

© only 5 times Danny 2010

 
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