Evans back to work as children struggle to cope with the truth
a tear stained photo of his fallen hero Steve Evans, ten year old little
Bobby Shattocks, wailing and crying with grief, cut a forlorn figure outside
the home of Boston United today.
one-time terrace legend Steve Evans admitted a serious tax fraud charge
in London yesterday, the image of the smart schoolboy sobbing uncontrollably
into his leather satchel struck a chord with residents of Staffsmart Street
quick to point out the real victims of Evans’ misdemeanours: the
at the little lad,” important Boston fan Bob Mugfret-Fishhead
told reporters gathered at the ground this afternoon. “It
breaks my heart to see the young fellow crying like that. Me, I'm
old enough to be used to the ills of this world. But the innocent
little ones, it’s they who shoulder the real burden of sin.
Who's thinking of the kids?”
Little Bobby Shattocks had skipped school to hold his tragic vigil
outside the doors of the silent stadium, an emotion fuelled pilgrimage
to the place where he used to chant Evans’ name with such
pride. The photo he held close to him was of Steve Evans triumphantly
mocking Garry Hill at Hayes in 2002.
the hero. Evans the legend. Evans the messiah.
“Say it ain’t so mister,” Bobby whimpered as club
chairman Crazee Jimmy Rodwell arrived for work this morning. “Tell
me mister, he didn’t really do it, did he? Mr Evans I mean.
Mr Evans didn’t lie. He didn’t, did he? Mr Evans ain’t
a bad man, is he mister?”
Grim faced, Crazee Jimmy paused for a moment, almost as though he
wanted to console the child. But he ignored the infant’s anguished
sobs, and walked away. Little Bobby sunk to his knees on the stone-flecked
ground of the car park, drawing his picture, his sole reminder of
the good times, closer. He wept some more.
“Aye, it’s always the children that suffer,” said
Bob Gufftrucker, the burly knee-capper employed by HM Revenue and
Customs to nail anyone that dares cross their path.
Bob stared at the wailing child, shaking his head. “The number
of times I’ve had to endure some doe-eyed toddler tugging
at my crowbar asking if daddy is a criminal. I normally tell them
‘Yes little one, Daddy is a criminal, he’s going away
for a very, very long time and will probably return a violent drug
addict’. In my experience, it’s best to be blunt with
the kids. Protecting them from the harsh truth does more harm than
Mugfret-Fishhead leant on his gate as the crowd, unable to get any
comment from Crazee Jimmy, drifted away to the Coach and Horses,
leaving little Bobby Shattocks alone again.
Wipe that smile off your face - Guilty Evans back to work as though
nothing has happened
“I wish I could go up to the lad and say to him everything is going
to be ok, that there’s more chance of Cape Canoville playing an
incisive through ball than of Steve Evans getting the sack and that the
cheating criminal will almost certainly be in the dugout on Saturday,”
“Now, to me it just demonstrates that we’re a club full of
corrupt gangsters, but it might cheer little Bobby up. I wish I could
tell him, give him a hug, but I’d probably get lynched for being
a paedophile, so I’ll just have to let him suffer.”
Little Bobby’s sad vigil lasted until four o’clock this afternoon,
when an intoxicated Mr Jack Shattocks, a gruff coal miner from Louth,
arrived to collect his son. Holding a blood-stained Davy Lamp he ushered
his son away, muttering to the few remaining journalists: “If any
of you gayboys touched my son I’ll kill you.”
Daddy, if Mr Evans lied about this, maybe he lied about other things too?”
little Bobby could be heard saying as his father dragged him away. “Why
did he have to do that Daddy? Daddy? Where's Mummy, Daddy? Why is the
patio in the middle of the garden, Daddy?”
to Staffsmart Street. Silence, save for the snores of an unconscious tramp
cum journalist slumped over a rubbish bin, and the laughter emanating
from the Boston United club offices.
suckers are falling for it again,” someone says, his crazee words
carried on the wind. “See you on Saturday Steve.”