Sir Alex Ferguson’s letter to Father Christmas

Dear Santa.

I’ve had some absolutely shockin’ Christmas presents over the years. Mame Diouf, William bloody Prunier, but at least we’re usually on top of the League. This year we’re not. I’d usually write to the FA but they woudn’ae see it amongst all the hysterical letters from scousers telling ‘em how much Luiz Suares enjoyed the Richard Blackwood show, so I’m writing to you this year right? Here’s wha’ I want.

1. A world class central midfielder – We’ve been short in this area for a while now Santa, there’s no doubt about tha’. Now Scholsey’s gone we haven’ae had another one since Keano really, but I’d never tell ‘im tha’ the ungrateful troglodyte. Fletch & Carrick are good lads but they’re no Bryan Robson you know? No going forward anyway. Carrick’s no Bryan Robson going sideways either to be perfectly honest. And Ando will’nae stoop bloody eating. We’ve tried rationing the boy but he just goes an eats Ashley Young’s meals. We’ve put him on the Atkins now bit it doesn’ae work if you have it with chips. He’s hiding them in his hair, it’s a bloody nightmare to be perfectly honest. We need some quali’y pwayers. You can’t say fairer than tha’. So aye, a Sneijder or Modric would be absolutely superb.

2. Lots of money – We’ve been short in this area for a while now too if I’m bru’ally honest. We’re pretending we’re no but there’s only so many times I can talk about bloody value. I’m no on bloody QVC. I got the boy Bebe for £7 million last year Santa. £7 million! Absolutely shocking. I tried floggin’ him on to Kenny but he says he’s already bought a big lumping tramp with the touch of a baby elephant and it cost him £35million. See you cannae get the value these days.

3. A state of the art intensive care unit. – It’s bleak in our Medical Centre at the moment Santa. There’s no doubt abou’ that. It was alright when we were just trying ta keep Owen Hargreaves’ knees glued on but now it’s full of bloody pwayers. It’s like a scene from Contaigon. We’ve had to have Tom Cleverley bring his sleeping bag doon ‘cos there’s no bloody beds left. The twins have used up five making a fort by the physio’s table. One of them’s in there now with a dislocated hip from slipping on a bag of skips Ando left in the changing room. It’s a bloody nightmare. We were operating at full power anyway just to keep Ryan’s regeneration chamber running.

4. The ability to pretend the Europa League is a good competition to be in – I’m no daft. The only thing the Europa League has in common with the Champions League is that neither of them are bloody leagues. The fans complain the European Cup group states are boring, what are they gonna be like when we’re playing Dynamo Bruges and the Calcutta Postal Workers Union XI? And if we don’t win it’s an even bigger disappointment. Can you do somethin’ aboo’ that? Maybe stick some big handles onto the trophy or something? You can’t say fairer than that.

5. More of whatever it is Phil Jones is made out of – We’ve got the boy Jonesey coming through now right. Marvellous pwayer. But you cannae put too much weight on the boy’s shoulders you know? Even though he’s got bloody big shoulders on him that lad. He’s like a bloody Frankenstein’s monster made out of bits of Rugby players and steel. He’d run through brick walls that boy. Though we’ve not made him try. Can’t spare the beds. But if everyone had his drive and commitment we’d never lose a game. We’d have no idea what position anyone was playing in half the time but it’d be bloody good to watch. There’s no doubt abou’ that.

Chee’ars.

Sir Alex Ferguson.

P.S. And a nice bottle of  Blue Nun would do nicely.