[Chief Rum]

June 13, 2002

Greetings, all.

My name is Peter, and I am a Poppie supporter. I was born and raised right in this very home in Kettering Town. Apart from doing some schooling in the City, I have lived here the whole of my life. In fact, the Tenford name (that's my surname) in the area goes back to at least the 15th century, or at least that's what my great-aunt says.

I make my living as a booking agent at the local Wicksteed Park. For those of you blokes who aren't aware of it, Wicksteed is a leisure park nearby here. In fact, it was the first of its kind, opened in 1921. It's for the kiddies for the most part, although we have some stuff for the parents too. I'm responsible for scheduling events at the park. You know, Kidney walks, Old Folks' Days and the like. I do a lot of Poppie promos, of course, but I never seemt o talk to anyone over there besides their PR department.

Kettering is a nice, small town, just the way I like it. Northampton isn't too far away, and it has some size to it, and the City is an hour away by rail. We're close enough to not be in the middle of nowhere, but far enough away to not be affected too much by big city life. We're just north of the Midlands area, and it's simply beautiful here, I think. Plenty of unspoilt countryside, and good, earnest people.

And we're all footy fans, particular of the Poppies, the local club since ole Queen Victoria had dark hair. The Poppies started up in 1872, and my great-great-granda was a fullback for those early squads, to hear tell of it from my own late granda. My father's father was a funny man. He said his grandda was a lean, fierce man and a hell of a player by all accounts. But years of marrying fatty wenches from Northant (that's Northampton) have deprived us Tenford males of our more skilled physical attributes, leaving us mostly a dumpy lot. I couldn't disagree-- I am dumpy looking, too.

I was practically born in the terraces of Rockingham Road. Literally. My mum went into labor at a 1968 home match with Bromsgrove. My granda said my father confided that he would donate me to an orphanage if Kettering lost that match, and set me up for life if the Poppies won. It was a draw, of course, so da never knew just what to do with me.

Rockingham is the home ground of the Poppies, in case you didn't figure that out. It's old now, but it's holding together okay, after a few revisions over the years. I spent much of my formative years there, and when I returned from London to take on my current job, I went pubbing with some of the younger players, and bought my first season tickets. I have been a ticket holder since, and am a 29-year member of the Kettering Town Poppies Supporter Trust (my da signed me up).

The name of Peter has been a bit of a curse for me of late. It turns out that bloody wanker Peter Morris, the old manager that got us relegated last year, shares his name with me, much to my horror. And to heap it on, the chairman, Peter Mallinger, or The Mallingerer as I and others have taken to calling him, is also sharing my name whilst running the club into the ground. This is his 9th year as club owner. So, many of my closest fellow Poppies fans have taken to calling me Tenford instead of Peter. Given there are about 7-8 male other male Tenfords, including my da, in the area, that can be a problem, but I have learned to deal with it. I just blame The Mallingerer and that bastard Morris.

The Poppies have just returned to the Conference, the top semi-pro league, after an exciting run in the Southern League this past season. Unfortunately, despite that success, the club is ina muck right now, because former player-manager Carl Shutt had a falling out with The Mallingerer and got himself sacked. It's very upsetting, because he was a leader both on the pitch and off. He singlehandedly turned around Morris's side and got us back to the top.

Now I am left to wonder just who they think will do a better job at this point. The season is fast approaching, and we need a manager.

Peter Tenford