One Game of Thrones at a Time: Busy First week in the Office
Oxford United (H) January 14th
With apologies to George R R Martin
And lo there was a turbulent time in the West.
In the Kingdom of the Greens, following the fleeing of Steven the Avaricious, lured by the overflowing coffers of the Northern hordes, there came the anointment of Ian the Taciturn. His brief reign caused much wailing and gnashing of teeth amongst the faithful. Overthrown by the wise council, led by Simon the Munificent, this assembly of elders gathered and after much deliberation, chose the somewhat unexpected successor, Wazza the erm First.
The Kingdom of the Greens, previously united, just for irony, was rent asunder. Wazza the erm First was a man of reputation, albeit not from his leadership of men on the field of battle. He was a warrior of past repute on the battlefield, and, perhaps more to the point, his Queen, Colleen the Tolerant was capable of great feats of endurance as well as of great cunning, having single-handedly outwitted the Vardian foe in a great and frankly lucrative battle.
Her feats of digestion were more than matched by her Lord, whose abilities were more quantity over quality to be fair, but Wazza the erm First led his troops into battle and soon showed his followers what to expect. Unfortunately, what that was, was defeat after defeat, and whilst his home fortress remained largely intact, save for a raiding party led by Steven the Avaricious and later the itinerant White Swan gang of the Valleys, who ransacked the Fortress for all they could steal, the natives became ever more restless.
With the local Heralds broadcasting the machinations of Wazza and his acolytes, the ruler determined his own fate and fled to exile on the edge of Aldersley, a climate even more inhospitable than the Potters realm who had usurped Steven the Avaricous and replaced him with the Eastern (Anglian) promise of Narcis of the Eyebrows. But he was crap too.
Simon the Munificent assembled his Council of Wise Men once again. Well, all except Neil of Mersey, who for some reason was locked in the small supply cupboard aside the Chisholm Lounge by the Keeper of the Keys, Lord Parkinson.
Outside the castle keep the masses were in turmoil. Rumours abounded that the fleet of the Northern Potters were delivering the exiled Steven the Avaricious back to his Western abode. All eyes turned towards the sky and the beating of the wings that would herald his arrival to regain his throne.
Inside the grounds the wise men met to discuss who could lead their valiant if depleted forces to safety. An alliance from the far West was close to being forged. One that would provide the Council with fortunes untold to acquire the services of the finest mercenaries from across the world. Unfortunately said allies also employed the most nit-picky of legal scriveners and the arrival of the untold wealth was, frankly, taking its damnable time.
The wise men debated who might best lead their loyal followers. Harris of Cockernee was hardened in battle. Sir Desmond of Buckingham, himself recently defenestrated by recent foes Oxfordia. Then there was the incessant drumbeat of the return of Steven the Avaricious. Although that might have been Neil of Mersey trying to tunnel out of his cupboard cell.
Simon the Munificent was due to arrive from his far Western enclave. The drumbeat for Steven was powerful and determined. Rumours of the beating wings of the Potter warbird delivering him to Castle Home Park spread amongst the chattering supporters.
The doors to the Chamber of Greens swung open with a loud crash. Simon the Munificent, attended by Jane the Purseholder swept into the room.
Simon pulled a scroll from his cabin bag. The man who had anointed Ian the taciturn, little known before or since, and then replaced him with Wazza the erm First, a mighty presence and popular leader of his troops, which was no mean feat as they seemed to get slaughtered every other week under his guidance, cleared his throat.
This man, so betrayed by his protégé Steven the Avaricious, Blue Steven the Glastonbury rat, could hear the drumbeat of public opinion and forgiveness towards the taker of the Potter pounds. Not by all, but by many. Two successors had come and gone in ignominious failure. His faithful advisor now locked in a side cupboard. The memory of past glories were calling strongly.
“Right lads, bear with. I’ve been having a look at this Bosnian chap whose been doing alright in his European campaigns over in Tin TIn land. Turns out they chucked him out a month ago and I reckon we could nab him from Bruges and, well, Poirot’s your uncle. I mean Cercle Brugge even play in green. Talk about lucky omens.”
Keeper of the Keys, Lord Parkinson looked around the table, once again blindsided by their leader’s ability to find a solution, literally no-one had even heard of. Again.
“And what of Steven the Avarious? Steven the Second as he is already becoming known".
Simon the Munificent rolled his scroll and placed it back in his cabin bag.
“You know what they say in Cercle Brugge circles. What goes round comes round. Now someone nip out to the reception area and tell that weasly page boy Cundle to naff off home.”
The Age of Muslic had begun. What could possibly go wrong……
To be continued…..
Is it really less than three weeks since that abject surrender at the Kassam which spelt the end of the Rooney experiment?
In that time, we have seen the fourth coming of the Nance, another late comeback equaliser to save a point against the Turnips, two departures, two arrivals, something called an away clean sheet (no, me neither) twice, and the resurrection of the Icelandic man himself, Victor Palsson in a man of the match performance at Premier League Brentford.
As my pastiche above says, never underestimate Uncle Simon’s ability to pull a left field rabbit from his travelling bag. In a few short days we have gone from Miron who and music puns, to a masterclass in motivational speaking going viral on the internet. If Miron Muslic delivers anywhere near the fever pitch level of excitement his appointment and arrival has stirred up, the corner filling process at Home Park may well include stinger anti aircraft missile emplacements, all aimed at the air corridors from Staffordshire.
Still unbeaten in 2025, and thanks to the organisational skill of Nance and Joebo, plus the spirit and commitment of the players selected to represent the worst away performing side in the Country at the second-best performing side in the Premier League, even the fog that wiped out (or ruined) a number of the games this weekend wouldn’t have survived the brilliant white light of Morgan’s smile in the 82nd minute.
Forget the absence of VAR that would have blotted another performance for the ages of Matty Sorinola, another reborn as he gets a run in the side, but who maybe could have given away a penalty with his challenge on Dansgaard. Equally the fun hoovers of Stockley Park would have delighted in drawing a big green arrow over Moose’s head as they denied the goal that earned us a shot at Liverpool. Do we loan in Jayden Danns now just to weaken their bench for the game?
Exeter even helped out by getting Tyler Goodrham sent off as they turned in their best performance in almost fifty years in the FA Cup in beating Oxford reserves and a bit. And it was still only good enough for second billing on Match of the Day, because you know, Devon is Green and White and all that.
So, the mood Muslic has changed (sorry) and we head into a pivotal week with three successive home games, starting with the rearranged match against what were then close rivals Oxford. Since that postponement Gary Rowett has pulled them away from immediate danger, including that comfortable victory in the dying embers of Wayne’s reign.
We have Baidoo and Puchacz, (the Polish international, possibly with Pleggy the only outfield players with a scrabble score higher than their shirt number and in case you are bored waiting for the game, I haven’t checked) having made debuts. Morgs is back smiling, despite the fact his future is being speculated as being a choice between the Bank of Dave town of Burnley and Hull on Earth. Mind you, did you note Thomas Frank wistfully implying they maybe should have bought him in his gracious post-match interviews.
It is still a long shot, as we need to haul in three teams above us, but at least now we know the plan. We have some direction tactically, and we have a leader who is winning hearts and minds already (not to mention doughnuts).
Time for the Green Army to welcome their new leader to Fortress Home Park. Miron wants teams to know how hard it is to face his side. Our side.
That starts with us….tonight
Welcome Miron and COYG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Oxford United (H) January 14th
With apologies to George R R Martin
And lo there was a turbulent time in the West.
In the Kingdom of the Greens, following the fleeing of Steven the Avaricious, lured by the overflowing coffers of the Northern hordes, there came the anointment of Ian the Taciturn. His brief reign caused much wailing and gnashing of teeth amongst the faithful. Overthrown by the wise council, led by Simon the Munificent, this assembly of elders gathered and after much deliberation, chose the somewhat unexpected successor, Wazza the erm First.
The Kingdom of the Greens, previously united, just for irony, was rent asunder. Wazza the erm First was a man of reputation, albeit not from his leadership of men on the field of battle. He was a warrior of past repute on the battlefield, and, perhaps more to the point, his Queen, Colleen the Tolerant was capable of great feats of endurance as well as of great cunning, having single-handedly outwitted the Vardian foe in a great and frankly lucrative battle.
Her feats of digestion were more than matched by her Lord, whose abilities were more quantity over quality to be fair, but Wazza the erm First led his troops into battle and soon showed his followers what to expect. Unfortunately, what that was, was defeat after defeat, and whilst his home fortress remained largely intact, save for a raiding party led by Steven the Avaricious and later the itinerant White Swan gang of the Valleys, who ransacked the Fortress for all they could steal, the natives became ever more restless.
With the local Heralds broadcasting the machinations of Wazza and his acolytes, the ruler determined his own fate and fled to exile on the edge of Aldersley, a climate even more inhospitable than the Potters realm who had usurped Steven the Avaricous and replaced him with the Eastern (Anglian) promise of Narcis of the Eyebrows. But he was crap too.
Simon the Munificent assembled his Council of Wise Men once again. Well, all except Neil of Mersey, who for some reason was locked in the small supply cupboard aside the Chisholm Lounge by the Keeper of the Keys, Lord Parkinson.
Outside the castle keep the masses were in turmoil. Rumours abounded that the fleet of the Northern Potters were delivering the exiled Steven the Avaricious back to his Western abode. All eyes turned towards the sky and the beating of the wings that would herald his arrival to regain his throne.
Inside the grounds the wise men met to discuss who could lead their valiant if depleted forces to safety. An alliance from the far West was close to being forged. One that would provide the Council with fortunes untold to acquire the services of the finest mercenaries from across the world. Unfortunately said allies also employed the most nit-picky of legal scriveners and the arrival of the untold wealth was, frankly, taking its damnable time.
The wise men debated who might best lead their loyal followers. Harris of Cockernee was hardened in battle. Sir Desmond of Buckingham, himself recently defenestrated by recent foes Oxfordia. Then there was the incessant drumbeat of the return of Steven the Avaricious. Although that might have been Neil of Mersey trying to tunnel out of his cupboard cell.
Simon the Munificent was due to arrive from his far Western enclave. The drumbeat for Steven was powerful and determined. Rumours of the beating wings of the Potter warbird delivering him to Castle Home Park spread amongst the chattering supporters.
The doors to the Chamber of Greens swung open with a loud crash. Simon the Munificent, attended by Jane the Purseholder swept into the room.
Simon pulled a scroll from his cabin bag. The man who had anointed Ian the taciturn, little known before or since, and then replaced him with Wazza the erm First, a mighty presence and popular leader of his troops, which was no mean feat as they seemed to get slaughtered every other week under his guidance, cleared his throat.
This man, so betrayed by his protégé Steven the Avaricious, Blue Steven the Glastonbury rat, could hear the drumbeat of public opinion and forgiveness towards the taker of the Potter pounds. Not by all, but by many. Two successors had come and gone in ignominious failure. His faithful advisor now locked in a side cupboard. The memory of past glories were calling strongly.
“Right lads, bear with. I’ve been having a look at this Bosnian chap whose been doing alright in his European campaigns over in Tin TIn land. Turns out they chucked him out a month ago and I reckon we could nab him from Bruges and, well, Poirot’s your uncle. I mean Cercle Brugge even play in green. Talk about lucky omens.”
Keeper of the Keys, Lord Parkinson looked around the table, once again blindsided by their leader’s ability to find a solution, literally no-one had even heard of. Again.
“And what of Steven the Avarious? Steven the Second as he is already becoming known".
Simon the Munificent rolled his scroll and placed it back in his cabin bag.
“You know what they say in Cercle Brugge circles. What goes round comes round. Now someone nip out to the reception area and tell that weasly page boy Cundle to naff off home.”
The Age of Muslic had begun. What could possibly go wrong……
To be continued…..
Is it really less than three weeks since that abject surrender at the Kassam which spelt the end of the Rooney experiment?
In that time, we have seen the fourth coming of the Nance, another late comeback equaliser to save a point against the Turnips, two departures, two arrivals, something called an away clean sheet (no, me neither) twice, and the resurrection of the Icelandic man himself, Victor Palsson in a man of the match performance at Premier League Brentford.
As my pastiche above says, never underestimate Uncle Simon’s ability to pull a left field rabbit from his travelling bag. In a few short days we have gone from Miron who and music puns, to a masterclass in motivational speaking going viral on the internet. If Miron Muslic delivers anywhere near the fever pitch level of excitement his appointment and arrival has stirred up, the corner filling process at Home Park may well include stinger anti aircraft missile emplacements, all aimed at the air corridors from Staffordshire.
Still unbeaten in 2025, and thanks to the organisational skill of Nance and Joebo, plus the spirit and commitment of the players selected to represent the worst away performing side in the Country at the second-best performing side in the Premier League, even the fog that wiped out (or ruined) a number of the games this weekend wouldn’t have survived the brilliant white light of Morgan’s smile in the 82nd minute.
Forget the absence of VAR that would have blotted another performance for the ages of Matty Sorinola, another reborn as he gets a run in the side, but who maybe could have given away a penalty with his challenge on Dansgaard. Equally the fun hoovers of Stockley Park would have delighted in drawing a big green arrow over Moose’s head as they denied the goal that earned us a shot at Liverpool. Do we loan in Jayden Danns now just to weaken their bench for the game?
Exeter even helped out by getting Tyler Goodrham sent off as they turned in their best performance in almost fifty years in the FA Cup in beating Oxford reserves and a bit. And it was still only good enough for second billing on Match of the Day, because you know, Devon is Green and White and all that.
So, the mood Muslic has changed (sorry) and we head into a pivotal week with three successive home games, starting with the rearranged match against what were then close rivals Oxford. Since that postponement Gary Rowett has pulled them away from immediate danger, including that comfortable victory in the dying embers of Wayne’s reign.
We have Baidoo and Puchacz, (the Polish international, possibly with Pleggy the only outfield players with a scrabble score higher than their shirt number and in case you are bored waiting for the game, I haven’t checked) having made debuts. Morgs is back smiling, despite the fact his future is being speculated as being a choice between the Bank of Dave town of Burnley and Hull on Earth. Mind you, did you note Thomas Frank wistfully implying they maybe should have bought him in his gracious post-match interviews.
It is still a long shot, as we need to haul in three teams above us, but at least now we know the plan. We have some direction tactically, and we have a leader who is winning hearts and minds already (not to mention doughnuts).
Time for the Green Army to welcome their new leader to Fortress Home Park. Miron wants teams to know how hard it is to face his side. Our side.
That starts with us….tonight
Welcome Miron and COYG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
