As I sit here following a week of the deathly-dull Interlull, more boring than a day in Hull, as the old saying goes, we have time to reflect upon the signing of Danielsan Arantes do Dat Guy Nascimento Santos Welvalho, now known to all as ‘Welé’. In the week I succumbed to his badgering for an interview and we met this Wednesday last at The Garrick. More of this anon.
It is quite the revelation that on the deadline day cattle market, Mr. Windsor, erstwhile overlord of Woolwich Arsenal made a trip to Rome to see the pope. I’ll put that another way: Mr. Windsor of The Arsenal went to Rome to see the Pope. Mr. Windsor of the Arsenal went to Rome to see the Pope. Mr. Windsor of The Arsenal went to Rome to see the pope and this is what he said: How nice! Which is of course a heartening contrast to the reception that Tottenham Hotspur traditionally receive.
Which brings me to our poor old Middlesex chums up the road, who seem to be pursuing their traditional effort to make the Keystone cops look like the SAS. Now I am now property developer but I know one thing. You do not attempt to build a stadium without owning the land. It does appear, hilariously, that Spurs will reconnect with their roots by appearing at a stadium in the home counties for at least one season, with the possibility of Wembley, if you please, hosting their ‘European’ ties.
It is not clear at this juncture whether they mean the stadium itself or a corner of the conference centre. It has even been mooted that they share the Emirates stadium with Arsenal. Now there are several reasons that this is both impractical and undesirable. Firstly, The Emirates is in London so Spurs would feel uncomfortable with the metropolitan milieu. Secondly, the lavatories are inside and the Spurs fans would not know what to do. Thirdly, we must consider the local residents.
They accept that once per season Tottenham’s fans will arrive in the area and deal with this fact with great stoicism. They board up their houses, roll out the barbed wire and sit in wait with a twelve gauge for the self-styled ‘Heathen Hordes of the Home Counties’ or ‘The Middlesex Maulers’, whatever they are calling their ‘firm’ that week. But every other weekend? Who will foot the extra policing bill? Not to mention the costs of cleaning the ordure from the streets after that have departed each week. This cannot stand, and Spurs must make the journey to their spiritual home 50 miles up the M1. They are, by the way, up for sale, with giggle-inducing delusion ne’er-do-well Joe Lewis wanting ONE BILLION POUNDS for the entire shooting match, including the kitchen sink (which is what they call Vlad Chiriches at The Lane). I have a
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Welé – The First Interview
We met for five minutes at The Garrick this week. His English is still somewhat rudimentary, somewhere around the level of a Stoke fan, but I do have some Portuguese so I have translated his answers as best I can.
AG: Welé, if I may call you that, and I may, because I named you, welcome to the Garrick. I can recommend the Chateau Lafite-Rothschild 1996. Brings back the elegance of the ’53.
W: What is Lafite?
AG: Oh dear. This may be a very short conversation.
W: I like Ribena.
AG: Let’s start with your transfer from Manchester United. Tell me how it happened.
W: I have been trying to leave the hellhole for years. First there was the angry man with the funny nose, he look, as we say in Belo Horizonte, like bit of scrag end in the butcher’s at 5 o’clock on a Saturday. He do shouting and chewing. Always on phone to his friend Mr. Webb. Then there was funny man Moyes, we thought he was wind up at first, with his boggle-eyes and the getting lost in Manchester centre. One day we had to send driver to pick him up, very confused. And now this tortoise man. Horrible club. I wanted to go. So I speak to my friend Jacques Wilshère, and he said LEAVE IT OUT MATE YOU WANT TO GET DOWN HERE so I said I want transfer and not to play with Tom Cleverley any more. So I came. Someone phoned from a club I did not recognise, Motteringham Tottspurs or something? Do you know them? So funny and cheeky that little clubs think they can sign big players. As we say in Brazil even the ugly donkey dreams that he can be a racehorse.
AG: We have a strong English core at the club, Peregrine Meatlocker, Laurence Costerley, Matthew Matthews, Orwell, Cousins, Oxlade-Chamberlain. Was that part pf the attraction?
W: Oh yes. I love England for long time. Ever since I was a boy in Belo Horizonte watching Match of the Day. I loved Match of the Day, except funny Shearer man with the shiny testicles, and Gary Lineker with his smug jokes. As we say in Brazil, at the golf club, there are many very boring men making jokes that nobody laughs at.
AG: And you qualify to play for England through the ‘granny rule’?
W: Yes! I was so pleased when I discovered this. I qualify through my granny, Rio Ferdinand.
AG: A wonderful old lady.
W: Oh yes, such a nice old lady. We all love Granny Rio and her funny clothes.
AG: And have you settled in quickly at Woolwich?
W: Oh yes. Mr. Cousins – you call him ‘hand feet’ – is such fun to train with. And Mr. Orwell likes to show off his Mesmertron at any opportunity. When he does this Mr. Windsor pops out his monocle in a comedy way. All we had in Manchester was everyone saying to Ryan Giggs about him having sex with his relatives which he did not find very funny. Meatlocker is very posh. Orwell is quite hard to understand as he has a strong northern accent but he is nice.
AG: His special move as you say is The Mesmertron. Everyone at Woolwich has a special move. What is yours?
W: I demonstrated it for England in the week for goal two. It is the Strawberry Switchblade, where I look one way but shoot the other. As you say in England, I did them with the eyes.
AG: You’ve advertised a special medical product. Is that something you have yourself used?
W: You mean my tonic? Mind your own business.
AG: It has been wonderful talking to you Mr. Welé. We look forward to seeing you play upfront tomorrow against The Vulgarians.
W: Mr. Windsor I think is going to use me as a how you say, left back tomorrow.
AG: Of course he is. Best of luck.
