Bailiffs acting on behalf of HM Customs and Revenue repossessed the ‘United’ at approximately 0800hrs this morning (Thursday), meaning that with immediate effect Boston United Football Club simply became Boston Football Club.
HMRC collections officer Bob Gufftrucker warned the Pilgrims that he would be back for the club’s nickname next week, and then move in for the ‘Boston’ if the club do not repay at least part of the absolutely gigantic debt owned to the public purse.
“To be honest, the ‘United’ ain’t worth that much anyway,” Gufftrucker told impsTALK. “We normally have a dozen of these repossessed in any given season. ‘Pilgrims’ will get a few bob at auction, but the ‘Boston’ is also pretty bloody worthless as well. Bunch of scamming chancers.”
The Revenue had already toured York Street looking for assets they might be able to sell, but pickings were slim.
“One unused brown envelope, one soiled,” Gufftrucker recalled. “One man’s hair comb. One Timex digital watch, broken. Two Mickey Chinn gold-plated finger rings. One clown suit. One pair red clown pants. One water-squirting bow tie, broken. One pair googly-eye glasses. And twenty-three pence left down the back of the seats in the Vice-President’s lounge.”
As HMRC moved in on the South Lincolnshire side, important Boston fan Bob Mugfret-Fishhead witnessed the drama unfold from his house in Staffsmart Street.
“A black van pulled up to the ground and a number of henchmen armed with baseball bats, a flamethrower and a sternly worded letter piled into the ground,” the curtain-twitcher said. “After a few minutes they emerged holding the United with a little wooden puppet running after them, like Benny Hill.”
The ‘little wooden puppet’ was not, as reported by BBC Radio Lincolnshire’s cider-saturated reporter Scott Dalton, Steve Evans, but in fact club chairmen Little Jimmy who briefly evaded Jim Rodwell to shout threats at the retreating bailiffs.
Speaking later to the press, Little Jimmy was in a defiant mood.
“Feck ‘em, feck ‘em all!” he screamed, as an embarrassed Jim Rodwell tried to hide him under a table. “We were never that ‘United’ anyway! Feck the lot of ‘em, the fans, the revenue, the players, feck BUSA, feck the Trust, feck you Jim, feck you – feck ‘em all!”
“We need a new name,” Rodwell himself said, before disappearing in a cloud of smoke.