cue the fat lady

cue the fat lady

The cast (for one performance only).

Stanley Victor Collymore
Herbert Douglas Ellis
William McGregor
John Gregory

The scene is the offices inside the North Stand of Villa Park. All is darkness except the office of the chairman. He closes the door and walks down the corridor, putting on his coat as he does so. As he turns towards the main door he notices Stan Collymore standing alone in the darkness.

Ellis: You still here, Stanley?

Collymore: (very quietly): That's it then, Mr Ellis.

Ellis: That's it. You're not a Villa player any more, lad. The deal's done. You've a new club now.

Collymore: (earnestly) Can I stay here a few more minutes?

Ellis: I don't suppose it would do any harm. Slam the door behind you when you leave and don't touch my fish. Goodnight Stanley...and good luck.

Collymore: Thanks.

The chairman exits and Collymore begins to walk the silent corridors, slowly gazing at the photographs hanging on the walls. He is brought up abruptly by a dark, bulky man with a bushy beard, dressed in the style of the late Victorians.

Man: (with a Scots accent) Is that you, young Collymore?

Collymore: Yes. But who are you?

Man: I am William McGregor.

Collymore: I thought everyone had gone home.

McGregor: This is my home.

Collymore: You live here?

McGregor: Not in any way you would comprehend, but I spend most of my time here, though I shall be moving out soon. Temporarily, you understand.

Collymore: Where to?

McGregor: I am not staying here during the building works, it would make me too angry. My friends George and Fredrick will be moving with me to keep Ellis company until Villa Park returns to normal.

Collymore: What are you doing here?

McGregor: I thought you looked as though you needed a bit of company. I don't like to see the Villa players unhappy.

Collymore: I'm not a Villa player any more.

McGregor: I know that, laddie. You signed this afternoon. I was watching.

Collymore: (choking back a tear.: I don't want to go, Mr McGregor. McGregor: You've no choice, laddie. The mistakes you made have been too serious. You have harmed two men who are true Villa servants. First you brought down Brian Little and no one could love this club more than he. Then you almost brought down John Gregory and he is also a Villa man.

Collymore: I never got a chance. All I ever wanted was to play for the Villa.

McGregor: Don't come that, son. You had your chances, nobody could have had more. But you threw them away. Come with me and I'll show you what you have really lost.

They walk slowly down the corridor.

McGregor: Look what you threw away. You could have had your picture on these walls. You could have been a hero and you turned out to be a villain. Look there, Howard Spencer and over there Pongo Waring. I knew them all as well as I know you. They were great player and great men. (He gestures towards the framed portraits). Eric Houghton, the hardest kicker of a dead ball I ever saw, and that was when footballs were proper balls, not the plastic toys you play with today. Mush Callaghan. Frankie Broome, George Cummings. Frank Moss, Gerry Hitchens, Harry Parkes. Now there was a Villa supporter. Charlie Aitken who stayed with the club through the bad times when he could have gone anywhere. Peter MacParland, who won us the FA Cup, Gordon Cowans, pound for pound the best midfielder there ever was. Peter Withe who had a heart as big as your head. Paul McGrath, the finest reader of a game that ever lived. I saw every one of his appearances and cannot remember a single mistake. (He gestures around the walls).

Collymore: Do you really think I could have been up there with them? I must know.

McGregor: Son, you could have been the best.

Collymore: I let the club down badly.

McGregor: No, son, you could never do that. This club is too great for one man to damage. You only let yourself down.

Collymore: What shall I do?

McGregor: Go to your new club and try to be a credit to the game of football. I must go now. I like to spend some time in the dressing room when it's quiet.

Collymore: I would like one last walk in front of the Holte End. Do you have a key?

McGregor: None of Villa Park's doors are closed when I am around. I shall not see you again, Stanley, but I have made a poem you can keep. Read it when I am gone.

Collymore glances at the paper and when he looks up McGregor has gone. Collymore descends from the offices down to the pitch and walks towards the Holte End in the bright moonlight. He removes the note from his pocket, halts in the goalmouth and reads to the empty terraces in a clear voice filled emotion:

If I should go, think only this of me. That there's some corner on a Leicester field That is for ever Aston. There still be In that rich earth a claret dust concealed; A dust whom Aston bore, shaped, made aware, Gave, once her fans to love......

John Gregory: (bellowing from the dugout): I thought I told you to bugger off!

Bryan Green