Written by grimbo

Sunday, 20 February 2011

image for The Duncan Ferguson Memoirs

Rangers and Everton legend Duncan Ferguson has published his long awaited memoirs.

One of Dunc's main intentions in his book is to set the record straight.

Here he puts his own spin on the events of 1992 in Fife....

"Not for the first time, I found my good self the totally unfortunate victim of a grave miscarriage of justice.

You may have read at the the time in some of the national publications greatly exaggerated reports of an incident which befell me in November in the year of our Lord 1992, in the picturesque Fife fishing village of Anstruther.

A narrow-minded, somewhat parochial minority of the inhabitants of that cosy hamlet seem to have taken exception to my slightly extrovert appearance during a visit.

But, if the truth be told, there was a perfectly logical explanation for my entering a local hostelry bedecked with a single glove, a pair of sunglasses and an earring, finished off rather exquisitely with a golden coloured flower behind my earlobe.

The earring had been inadvertently left in my ear after my recent stunning theatrical debut in the Striling Repertory Company's production of that excellent Gilbert O'Sullivan musical - "The Pirates of Penzance".

The wearing of the glove and sunglasses can quite easily be ascribed to my idolisation of my fellow globally renowned superstar, Michael Jackson. Long-time pen correspondents, our mutual affection was understandable given the similarities in our life styles - we had indeed shared an uncanny set of identical crosses to bear...fame being thrust upon us at a painfully early age, resulting in deep psychological problems and major cases of immaturity, and extreme inter-personal trauma resulting in our obsessive association with people possessing superior I.Q.'s than ourselves - in Michael's case a pet monkey, in yours truly anyone past the foetus stage.

Finally, the wearing of the flower behind my ear was easily explained. Many of yourselves may not have been party to such information, but I had recently been installed as the first every Honorary President of Stirling and District Horticultural Society - a strange decision I hear you say, but, given my well documented passion for pigeons, my feathered pets' regular flights over the beautiful Stirlingshire countryside had in fact helped create the best fertilised agricultural land this side of the Mississippi delta.

The flower emblem, therefore, was one I bore with a great deal of pride and sense of achievement.

In addition, I would also like to address the complaint of the Judge at my farcical trial, relating to my seemingly disrespectful keeping of my hands in my trouser pockets.

Over the years I had unfortunately developed a rather accentuated stoop and swagger - another trait which, I may add, some of my critics erroneously ascribed to over-confidence.

Recalling that my good parents always emphasised that on formal occasions I should do everything in my limited power to remain as erect as possible, I accordingly retained my hands in my pockets and gripped my sides firmly in order to prevent myself from slouching down, as was my custom.

Finally, I stated most forcefully my opposition to any form of custodial sentence for my mythical misdemeanour. I pressed most strongly for an alternative punishment - namely for me to tour the length and breadth of this great land in the service of the community, i.e. acting as a form of interior design consultant in public houses.

As I had spent a not inconsiderable portion of the last five years rearranging the fixtures and fittings of many such establishments, it would have been entirely appropriate for me to attempt to put back into the community something of what I have already taken out.

Unfortunately, my eloquent appeal fell on the deafest of aural appendages.

The rest, as they say, is history".

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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