After the excitement of the 2011-12 Premiership season, it has been said by the commentators of our age that you couldn’t script such drama. Fearing as much, FA chairman David Bernstein has taken drastic action to ensure that next season isn’t imbued with a feeling of ‘after the Lord Mayor’s wank’, and invited a selection of Hollywood luminaries to devise a season of football even more unpredictable than the last. Having gone through the appropriate bins to discover the treatments pitched, Ruud Gullit Sitting On A Shed can exclusively reveal what could be in store for fans next season.
Charlie Kaufman: The entire season unspools from the sole perspective of Swansea’s journeyman midfielder Leon Britton, who battles an existential crisis while trying to maintain his excellent pass completion ratio. Existential crises will be experienced by 98% of all Premiership players (everyone except the squad of Aston Villa), until the FA steps in to declare them illegal. At this point, all Premiership players (except Villa’s) will endure existential ‘uncrises’, which aren’t actually a thing but merely the figment of Paul Lambert’s imagination, who turns out to be Leon Britton’s estranged father. Crackpot screenwriter Kaufman will, as usual, explore trademark themes such as fear, self-doubt, alienation, Meaning and the futility of life, all through the motif of Liverpool’s new third kit. A comedy.
M Night Shyamalan: The season will be blighted by the non-interest of all, as people await only the last ten minutes of the season to see what the inevitable zany twist will be. Eventually, it will transpire that Shyamalan was actually dead all along, and so we can proceed to forget his career ever existed. Wayne Rooney finishes as top goalscorer.
Michael Bay : In lieu of a pitch, Bay simply provided this curious picture of Everton’s Leon Osman:
Who wouldn’t pay to see this?
Quentin Tarantino: The season starts with a scene from the end, because why not? We see very little in the way of football, with Hollywood’s enfant terrible preferring to dwell on rat-a-tat conversations between managers and their kitmen on such mundane topics as ointment and bread. I expect the proposed scene wherein Everton FC are shot to ribbons by a smart-talkin’ wise-ass nigga (played by Samuel L. Jackson, obviously) will draw heavy criticism, but could well fuel excited speculation come the Oscars.
Nick Love: To quote verbatim: “WALLOP! Banging in goals like lines of Charlie up my fuckin’ ‘ooter, that’s what I’m pitching, YOU TURLET!” Attached is a variety of headshots of Danny Dyer, wearing in turn a West Ham kit (lookin’ ‘ard), a West Ham away kit (lookin’ bovvered), a West Ham goalkeeper’s top (lookin’ for a ruck, you fuckin’ melt) and a referee’s shirt (grinning inscrutably – what’s he up to?).
Woody Allen: Sir Alex Ferguson troubles his therapist with his twin concerns – his attraction to his youthful new secretary, and his reluctance to sign an adequate holding midfielder. His therapist gives Ferguson the bizarre advice that he should pursue a romantic dalliance with the secretary, in the hope that he will be spurned, whilst simultaneously liberating the grizzled Scot sexually, for the therapist is actually in love with Ferguson herself. She is also young enough to be much, much younger than him. Eventually, Ferguson decides simply to buy a midfielder after all, and struggles as he falls in love with him instead. He reveals his struggle to come to terms with this newly discovered platonic love to his jealous therapist, who realises she loves her red-faced patient, despite the fact that it could never work between them. Nobody loves Woody Allen anymore.
Wes Anderson: Arsenal suffer an injury crisis at the same time that a prodigiously talented child prodigy begins to be all prodigious for the youth team, in a surprisingly prodigious way. Nine year old Kurt Schellinger deals with the pressures of elite youth football with a maturity far beyond his years, not least due to his passions for the oboe, Byzantine erotica, Kenyan literature, HAM radio, billiards, real ale, and other such implausible pursuits. Wenger, taken with this bizarrely confident and outgoing child-git, bonds with him over a shared love of 17th century agriculture and Belarussian performance art. Wenger decides to promote Schellinger to the first team, where he strikes up an unlikely kinship with Arsenal’s new centre-forward, Bill Murray. This unusual combination of youthful promise and subtly-expressed-yet-painful-yearning-drawn-on-a-ball bag lights up the season, although Arsenal still end up trophyless, as the squad fail to arrive for the FA Cup final as they all have parts in Kurt’s play, scheduled for the same day. Bill Murray joins a bigger club at the end of the season.
Ruud Gullit Sitting On A Shed 