It’s 6.50 on Cyber Monday.
All over Britain. our little ones are gorging themselves on the 25 chocolates in their advent calendars and working out how to pin back the cardboard doors so their parents do not notice.
Shoppers , bruised from barging around Brent Cross, trollies laden with black goods, crouch over their keyboards, splashing the cash of their November paycheques on worthless tat for the family.
I paint a picture of sick materialism, of stygian gloom and of an already indebted nation careering through December to the usual hangover of credit card bills and tax assessments that will be January 2015.
I turn on Radio 5 live in the fond hope of an audio tonic.
And now I’d like to bring in Steve Mingle, Manchester City Season Ticket Holder and ….
Bleedin hec – it’s the Jock. Bright as a button, fresh from the Blues 3-0 triumph over the hubristic Saints, purring at Sergio and Ya Ya and his team of Abu-Dhabian sponsored megabuckees!
There was a time when Steve Mingle was the reason this man gave meaning to my torpid existence, The Borussia Dortmund Scum Killers league (of which my fantasy team was so nearly the winner).the conference hi-jacked by Mingle’s antics (the Diageo product placement, the mysterious appearance of City slogans on others slides.
Sadly those days have passed and , but for the odd appearance at conferences too obscure even for me, Steve (the Jock) Mingle has been a distant memory to me.
But here he was, holding forth on the return to form of his beloved blues, commending the diversity of goal scorers as proof that Aguero is not the only fruit.
I return to my little lap-top a happier man.
Jock, you are so much the finest of football commentators, your website tells us that another opus of the quality of Lows Highs and Balti Pies and Allison Wonderland is in the offing.
Worry not Jock – a copy of From Balti Pies to the biggest prize is (according to a source close to me)making its way to my Christmas stocking.
Your website may not have been updated in two years but this blog can confirm that for a mere £21.24 you can purchase not just the third in the Mingle trilogy but also Sergio’s (slightly) ghosted auto-biography and a pair of City socks to put them in.
The Jock is a horny veteran of the pension world, a grizzled actuary whose greatest failing was that people understood what he said.
Had the man not had the class and humanity to expose the fraudulent posturing of “faux rocket-scientists” such as myself and Jonathan Poll, he would undoubtedly be running an insurance company right now.
Instead he has kept his integrity intact. Holed up in rural Berkshire with the lovely Lindsey and lifelong collaborator “Charelles” Charles , he trades as Isinglass to this very day.
As every fool knoweth, Isinglass is the stuff that keeps your beer clear, it is a transparent fish and a thing of luminescence in a murky world. Much like the Jock on the radio!
Jock we need you back- make social media your home and pillory me on my blog as I pilloried you on Amazon those many years ago!