A Week With East End Cockneys - Carrie Brazen’s Diary

The past five days in the life of East End Cockneys, recorded in the diary of their football director, Carrie Brazen.

Almost-CockneyMonday
Being the only female Premiumship football director is not always a bed of roses. It took me some time to earn the respect of this male dominated world. Some of my opposite numbers at other clubs treated me with disrespect as if I was some kind of bimbo who knew nothing about the game. They expected me to gossip about their sex lives and sleep with my players, appear on tacky TV programmes and attend media  parties. I soon showed them.

Tuesday
I was at a celebrity’s birthday celebrations last night. Nude pole dancers in the garden and unlimited supplies of coke. I’d had to leave my lovely husband Peter Pickapacofpickledpeppers at home in Brum with the kids. I am so proud of him. He is a manager in his own right now. I still remember when our eyes met across the changing room when he was one of my players and the excitement we soon shared in the club showers. I bet it was the first time he had scored after the final whistle! There is nothing the club’s owners could do about it because I was making so much money for them and it would have looked like sexual discrimination if they had tried to sack me. There is of course no way that I would take advantage of the fact that I am a woman or that I know where all the skeletons are buried.

Wednesday
At that party I saw a friendly director from another club with his girlfriend. He has a bit of a thing for me, texts me all the time. He shall of course remain nameless because I would not want to cause him embarrassment or influence any future negotiations I might have with his club by worrying that I might reveal his identity in a future mention in this column. They had got a bit carried way and he wanted to know if he could borrow the key to my Knightsbridge flat. I said no because I did not think it would be fair on his wife.

Thursday
art-cockney-slang-2Spent the morning with my feet up. Breakfast in bed, reminiscing. I got my first job in football from the porn baron owner of West Midland Blues in my early twenties; I was already a director of his top shelf magazine empire, all in the best possible class. After turning a pretty profit, we sold it on and I then joined him again as a board member at our new club East End Cockneys.

Being the only woman at the top level in a business dominated by men has its advantages, just like it did at school where I passed my A levels with top grades as one of the few girls admitted to an otherwise all boys 6th form. All that testosterone; they all fancied me of course – and then there were the pupils! It was not long after that course work started to count towards your pass marks. The teachers said I excelled at that. I am a brilliant businesswoman after all.

Not being fixated on the discrimination I have come across, or having a chip on my shoulder of any kind has been a tremendous help. It helped to provide just the gender and equal opportunities balance that the FA needed on its World Cup team. I also made the acquaintance of government ministers who have helped ensure an absolutely fair approach to our bid to secure the Games stadium ahead of our rivals.

There was a ridiculous situation last year where North London Whites tried to stop our bid for the stadium just because we reneged on a promise to keep the athletics track. They wanted the stadium for themselves. It was ridiculous, just because they are a bigger club and could fill the stadium every week. They are further away from the site than us after all. And then there was the other challenge from our little neighbours East London Reds. It was ridiculous. Just because they are closest to the stadium. They are only a little club and would struggle to fill it.  Still, following  a few ‘phone calls to Boris when I was able to lend a sympathetic ear and give some advice on keeping the lid on potential leaks to the media about his domestic life, the announcement  was soon made that the stadium review had gone in our favour. I think he has got a soft spot for me but I’d have to say “on your bike” if he pushed it.

Friday
I met the new commercial director of West Country Reds at a business get together yesterday. It’s a woman! You could have knocked me down with a feather. She looked more like a pole dancer. Short skirt, high heels, the works. They say she has a background in the lingerie industry. Huh. I am all for giving women a chance in business but if you ask me she didn’t look like she had much between the ears. I don’t see how a bimbo like that can know much about the game. She only looked like she was in her early twenties. I am not sure that she wasn’t having a dig when she said she had admired me since she was a little girl.

Must get back to the flat. My lovely Mr. Pickapacofpickledpeppers is coming up with the kids for the weekend and I need to take the wrapping off the oven. I’ve only had it for 18 months.

***This article is pure fiction and for your amusement. Any resemblance to any real life situations or characters, alive or dead is purely coincidental***

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