Geordie the Bruce, possibly a descendant of Robert de Brus, Lord of Hartlepool, is back in his shed, wondering what will happen if and when his team is finally sold off by the Lord of Newcastle.

He had known long before he took the job that it wouldn’t be easy to keep his difficult boss, the Lord of Newcastle, Michael de Ashley, happy.

And then, just as he’d managed to keep the club going on a miserly budget and proved the doom-merchants wrong, along comes this virus to put a spanner in the works.

But more importantly, it put a spanner in the finances of His Lordship, whose already-struggling retail empire had had to close down for a few months. Which no doubt was part of the reason for the impending sale, to yet more rich Arabs.

So there was Geordie in his shed, pondering on his chances once the moneybags started to arrive. Being a cheap option tends to cut no ice in these situations, as these people will want the best there is, not the best they can get for peanuts.

Geordie could see the writing was on the wall, and it was saying “P45”. He as usual tried to gain inspiration from Sid the Spider, who would just keep going, whatever difficulties arose.
"While he couldn’t become a world-beating manager overnight, perhaps he wouldn’t need to."

And that gave Geordie an idea. While he couldn’t become a world-beating manager overnight, perhaps he wouldn’t need to.

His Lordship is rumoured to want, once the sale has gone through, to take over a Football League club, which would obviously require less of the cash that he was losing fast. So that would require a cheap manager whom he could work with.

Geordie the Bruce knew just the club, one he had previously managed before it hit hard times, and, even better, it was just down the road. “Sunderland is the ideal solution”, he said. “So, although at first I didn’t succeed, I’d be able to try again!”

And Sid the Spider said to himself “Loser!”

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