As the Gentlemen settle down to enjoy some festive turkey, it's fitting that the Butcher is running away with the league. Can anybody stop him now? 'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the league
The Gentlemen were starting to feel the fatigue Eighteen hard weeks of the grind and the stress Getting transfers wrong, selections a mess When it comes to defenders, John Lundstram is top The four million man beating the superstars of Klopp So few clean sheets, no value in stars Kelly and Soyuncu, best investments by far The big strikers are failing, Aguero and Kane Outscored by seven, their goals on the wane And the pre-season favourites, Salah and Sterling Have seen cheaper teammates become their team's king The challenge is always to pre-empt the form To sign differentials before they're the norm To get rid of players before their cold streaks Managing to predict the drops and the peaks In the Gentlemen's League, management styles do vary Some consistent and true, others wild and contrary We can see what's successful, now eighteen weeks in And which Nightmare seasons belong in the bin Suicide Squad are the worst, cut adrift from the rest Too many transfers make his gameweeks a mess Start each week on minus, Mikey P in a tizz It'll be no surprise when the wooden spoon becomes his Then next in the league are our three zombie packs Set their teams in week one and then never come back Thompson, Metal Marc and big Andrew Helling The lower reaches, their permanent dwelling Wee Ginger Ben is the last Also-Ran His debut season going right down the pan Ten-transfer week, wildcard he forgot No activation, now his season is shot Oxsmorons occupy the next rung on the ladder Every week his team makes him madder and madder Stuck in the depths of Lower Mid-Table There's no happy end to The Ox's fable Not much further ahead are Jie and Who Horner There seems no way for them to turn the corner Leading Micky Quinnaj and the Warriors White Means Christmas Eve is just another sleepless long night Splitting those two are Slick Rick's Tiptoppers So high at the start, now perennial droppers He's pinned all his hopes on Son, Alli and Kane So far they've brought him nothing but pain Hitman Hodgson, once favoured, is losing it all Devastated by a one-week nine-place fall Realising that actually It Does Mata Is sending the banker as mad as a hatter Lord Geord had the worst start he can remember His season didn't begin 'til November He's arrested his fall, but he'll spend Christmas Eve Counting how far the Lords are behind Butcher Steve Flash started off bad, to Bali he fled Came back home and turned the form on its head But now he's plateaued, stuck in the mud The teams behind him, like sharks smelling blood Madelaine Milan are managed by the Iceman, Dale Who promised his team just could not fail Yet they find themselves cut adrift from the chase The Iceman left with egg on his face The Dazzlers title hopes are just about gone Despite topping the league in weeks two and one Those glory days, so hard to get back Deadly Daz stranded in the Chasing Pack Superstar DJ, All-Star Vogt Giving the game everything that he's got Yet so far away from the top of the shop The Xhakalaka Boom, fizzled out to a pop Really started off well, and were doing just fine Then manager Birkett became known as Big Time Believed the hype, thought he could challenge the King Now he's crashing to earth like a plane with no wing So little is known of the Private Parvesh Could be from Spain, France or Marrakech His very existence remains shrouded in doubt And his season, so close to amounting to nowt In the court of King Ding, the peasants revolt Autumn ambivalence, the obvious fault Determined to be the first champ to defend But his reign's coming to an inglorious end This year's surprise package, Hugh G. Rection Confounding the odds with their maverick selection The Masterchef continues to cook up a storm But even he needs to improve on his form Top hundred thousand was the Juggernaut's mission Finish the season in their greatest position Convinced it would ensure they brought home the gold Jeeves' derailment could not be foretold For running away with the league at a canter He even has double-Newcastle for the banter So far ahead on this cold Christmas Eve Butchering them all, their Nightmare, Big Steve So far ahead, his season historic Coming from nowhere, his rise meteoric The challenge for Steve, come the final day Is if he can finish in the top ten kay At Christmas, though, there is hope for us all So high he has risen, as fast he can fall Still more than half of the season to go So much time for the Nightmare to grow If he gives them a sniff, the hounds at his heels Will start to smell blood with each point that they steal The strength of Jeeves come the turn of the year Is the biggest challenge the Butcher has to fear Dinga will continue to fight true and hard His ace in the pack, his retained Wildcard Everyone else, from the Masterchef down Will do what they can to secure the crown He's started off well and he's having a ball But Steve's FPL Nightmare could eclipse them all With every Gentleman entering the Boxing Day fray Believing they're the one who will find a way Twenty gameweeks to go, so much still unpenned No-one can predict how the season will end The glory will go to the one who is braver This is becoming a season to savour So enjoy Christmas day, let off some steam Remember every nightmare gives way to a dream Then strap yourself in and enjoy the ride May the FPL Gods be forever on your side Comments are closed.
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