Jellyman's Thrown a Wobby
Saturday Afternoons in Front of the Telly
Jeff Stelling
Contents
Introduction - This is not a rant …
Part 1 - The Cult of Soccer Saturday
Chapter 1 - A Short History Of Nearly Everything: (To Do With Soccer Saturday)
Chapter 2 - Any Given Saturday
Chapter 4 - You Can Say That Again: The Catchphrases Of Soccer Saturday
Chapter 5 - The Jeff Stelling Drinking Game
Chapter 6 - What The Critics Said
Chapter 8 - Ranting, Raving and General Mania: Viewer Correspondence to the Soccer Saturday Studio
Chapter 9 - Don't Touch That Remote Control!
Chapter 10 - A Selection of Soccer Saturday's Greatest Gaffes, Bloopers and One-Liners
Part 2 - Introducing The Real Crazy Gang: The Soccer Saturday Panel
Chapter 11 - Welcome To The Muppet Show
Chapter 14 - Bigmouth Strikes Again: The People Versus Rodney Marsh
Chapter 16 - Cocoa, Pipe and Slippers (Né Champagne) Charlie
Chapter 17 - ‘Sit Down, Pinocchio!’
Chapter 19 - A Big Fish In A Small Studio
Chapter 21 - Introducing The Best (And Worst) Of The Rest
Chapter 23 - ‘I'm Not A Celebrity: … Get Me Out Of Here Anyway!’
Chapter 25 - Supporting Hartlepool
Chapter 26 - ‘One From The Bottom and Two From The Top.’: How I Got The Countdown Job
Chapter 27 - The Real Jeff Stelling: (In A 1980s-Style Football Interview)
Chapter 28 - Frequently Asked Questions: (At Cocktail Parties)
Introduction This is not a rant …
… But on the sixth day, God created Saturday.
Well, maybe, but during my more reflective moments, I'd like to think He designed it as a reward - something to look forward to during the working weekdays and those soulless evenings on the sofa in front of Corrie, Big Brother and Location, Location, Lo-bloody-cation. He stuffed it full of football, goals, drama, dodgy refereeing decisions and penalty appeals to cheer our souls and set our pulses racing. He gave us beer and pies as a refreshing accompaniment. And as an afterthought, He then gave us Sunday to deal with the hangovers and indigestion, while watching even more football and stuffing our faces with more food. Oh, and going to church, of course.
Minor blasphemy aside, though, I figured it would be a fitting way to begin this book by telling you exactly why Saturday is my favourite day of the week, mainly because I'm guessing it's yours, too, otherwise you wouldn't be reading these very pages. Unless you're a judge for the Pulitzer Prize, in which case you're permitted to hate Saturdays as much as you like as long as you look very favourably on these pages. But for most of us here, Saturdays represent a moment of weekly nirvana: twenty-four hours dedicated to superstition, strange rituals, long walks to the train station with siblings, friends and parents. It's about the