So, not content with having "it wasn't me guv, honest" Bowyer on the books, it seems we're now looking to team him up with Joey "I'm not a psycho, that's my brother you're thinking of" Barton. No wonder Reo-Coker wants out of the club. Would you feel comfortable with black skin in that dressing room? I just hope they frisk the players for meat cleavers before they go on to the training ground!
Still, it's an East End tradition isn't it? We've had the Krays and the Richardsons, so why not the Bowyer-Bartons? And it's not as if rucks involving the players are unheard of at the club. There was the Morley bashing the Bishop to his wife's sharp disapproval incident. And of course Hartson, thinking he was a Nazi Boyo, mistaking a little Jewish player's head for the ball. Academy of football? It's beginning to look more like the Long Good Friday! Does our Biscuit Baron know his jellied eels from his pie and mash I wonder?
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