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Don't let Tommy Agomba nail your head to a door.


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When it comes to being critical of Tommy Agomba and all the lads from the East End, I'd advise all United supporters to tread carefully.

These lads, from Ham, Bow, Plaistow and Stepney are tough lads. Tough! They ain't your mamby pamby, pen pushing jotter blotters who, if you fall out with them they may punch you in the gob. Not these lads. More than likely they'll nail your head to a door.

That's what they do in the East End. It's common practice. Fall out with someone and you get your head nailed to a door. Often you can cruise around the East End and you'll see them. Staggering back home with a door nailed to their head. They'll say, 'I've no time for small talk. Out of my way. I've a door nailed to my head'.

In the East End, it's Blags, Jags and a Million Fags and if you step out of line arguing about the price of a kilo of Clams or Jellied Eels you'll probably get your head nailed to a door. That's the way of things in that manor. 'Stop your wriggling', they shout, 'be still while we nail your head to this light oak door'.

Course, having your head nailed to a door can't be nice. I wouldn't want it. Who would? You'd be an odd sort if you wanted your head nailed to a door. I've researched this practice and not one person has said, 'I've had my head nailed to a door and frankly it's the best thing that's ever happened to me'.

More often than not, they all say, 'what a dreadful experience. If I'd known then what I know now I'd have never allowed my head to be nailed to a door thank you all very much'.

Mind, I'm not suggesting that you should run for cover if you see Tommy or one of the lads wandering around High Town carrying a door and a carpentry kit. They're probably carrying out a bit if work on the side and they've no intention of affixing your head to the door. But, if you've been vocal and you've complained that Tommy and the lads have buggered it all up and they know who you are, my advice is to shout, 'Tommy, the Police in these parts have a zero tolerance attitude toward heads getting nailed to doors', run away and when your happy he and they can't possibly catch you to carry out their crude carpentry work, stop, shout, 'Tommy you are a rotter and a stinker' and then continue your journey home.

Mind, the lads don't scare me. Never have and never will. If I get a tap, tap, tap on my window and I discover that Agombar and the lads are outside holding a door, a nail and a two pound lump hammer, I'm calling the Constable. I'll be damned if I sit back and allow these East End lads to nail my head to a door.

My message to Tommy and the lads is this. This is Hereford and around these parts we do not acquire wooden doors and nail heads to them. That'll make them think twice before they introduce their cultural ways to our fair City.

In fact, the more I think about it, the angrier I'm getting. How dare they tip up here and think that we are happy to have our heads nailed to doors or any other piece of wooden furniture.

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You are quite right on this one, Bobby . Nailing heads to doors is most definitely an East End thing.


Of course, should you find yourself in a spot of bother in Merthyr Tydfil, it's your feet you need to watch out for. They're very keen on nailing things to feet over there......preferably a small bedside table, or lamp stand!


Mind, if you do find yourself with a door nailed to your head, and you intend to stagger into The Commercial for something medicinal, please could you be so kind as to give me some advance warning?


So that I can film it?


That £250. quid I'd get from You've Been Framed, would come in very handy!!

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  • 5 months later...

T'other day I foolishly ventured onto the pages of Bulls Banter where I thought the lads would appreciate my thoughts on this, that and the bloody other. How bloody wrong I was! The lads weren't keen at all to read anything that I considered to be worthy of consideration.The facts appear to be that within those pages there's no room for individual opinions and anyone who dares question the 'clique' gets branded a traitor to the cause and a 'plant' from one of the past failed regimes of Hereford United.

Worse, the lads sent me packing leaving me in no doubt that I was a rotter and a stinker. Well I'll be damned if I take this! Id sooner cozy up to Carole bloody Decker and listen to her constantly singing that dreadful song 'China In Your Hand', than take this rejection without a sane and intelligent response.

From hereon, if ever Im sat in the Commercial supping ale and I see Andy Lonsdale creep out from beneath a mature and well maintained privet hedge and he grabs hold of one of the Bulls Banter posters who told me to clear off, pulls their pants down and subjects them to aggressive manly love and then shouts, 'Tommy bring your carpentry tools here and nail his head to the door', I ain't calling the Constable. I'll be damned if I do!

Whatsmore, if that poster, and there were a few of them who verbally abused me cry, 'in Gods name. Save me from this dreadful ordeal', I'm going to say, 'pull your own pants up thank you very much. You'll get no aid from me'.

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