Jeff! It was as if the Prime Minster had become a potty-mouthed, gum chewing football manager.
Boris Johnson was at Cop26 and suddenly spewed more cliches about than a fat-tongued Sky Sports presenter.
“Well, the boy did well and it’s a game with two ‘alves, so at end of the day, we’d just be “appy with the points, Gary”, etc.
Even his Bertie-ish demeanour seemed more geezerish that usual. A sheepskin coat and a tweed flatcap would have made him look like Malcolm Allison, who was being interviewed for Match of the Seventies.
The PM was giving his farewell conference to the press and, in true footy manager tradition the gaffer was trying put a gloss on his team’s performance over the past few weeks.
Boris and Prince Charles found something to smile about at the Cop26 summit in Glasgow – with HRH looking as happy as he must have been when corpsing at The Goons as a youngster
Boris told journalists last weekend at the G20 meeting in Rome that climate change was a football match. He said that the world was currently 5-1 down at the half-time mark and was struggling. Since then, he had made some changes.
He’d put some fresh legs onto the pitch and twiddled a bit his formation. He gave them the Boris pep talk.
They were able to pull a goal back and push for more time. We’re still here, boys! We were supposed start at 5pm, but we began late as usual.
The gaffer was late. Maybe he was handing out half-time oranges. Twenty minutes later, there he was, hunched over on stage.
Sky News had to cut their interview with Al Gore, former vice-president of the United States, because of his sudden appearance. Oh darn.
They might include it in their highlights reel once the show is over. As Boris speeches go, this was no Cape Canaveral – no explosions, no blasting booster rockets.
Instead, the PM tried not to sound too optimistic as world leaders raced for the exit.
The vivid Borisms were there, however. He spoke of a Doomsday Clock that was still ticking. Except that the bomb disposal crew was now on the site and’snipping right wires.
Boris stated that the UK was working hand in hand with India to ‘transform the future of India’ in a speech. He also took Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s hands
Or at the very least, he hoped they would be the right ones. I don’t think Boris, a cack-handed man, would be able to handle a pair nail scissors or a set wire cutters and a ticking bomb.
Did he look a little pooped at times? It’s not hard to believe he was. It had been a long, difficult day of deal-making between the global gasbags. The US President Biden was also accused by snoring during a speech.
Yesterday, old Sleepy Joe was adamant that he needed a good night’s sleep and Night Nurse. There were at least two moments that provided some relief from the growing despair.
Boris and Prince Charles found something to smile about – with HRH looking as happy as he must have been when corpsing at The Goons as a youngster.
Following a speech in the which Boris said that the UK was working hand in hand to transform India’s power sector, the old ham took Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s hand as they walked through the conference centre.
There was no respite from the media, and in the subsequent exchanges the football analogies continued thickly and fast.
Sky News pointed out that ‘Team World’ would not have any chance without China’s wunderkinds pitching. The Chinese didn’t show up, of course.
They’re like many mercurial foreign stars. President Xi didn’t even like Glasgow on a Tuesday night. Boris laughed. He insists that China was ‘engaging.
The PM had spoken with Xi. The PM had spoken to Xi. Boris said, defending his star man, “Totally understandable.”
This sounds like a hairdryer treatment. “Who scored the goal?” The Sun man demanded to know. Was it the Queen Was it Greta Boris? The gaffer looked at Boris.
He mumbled, “Ah well, it’s a team sport,” before reaching for his bag of footy banalities. Boris, you’re a fool!
It was Her Majesty that won it, surely. He was gone in a matter of seconds. He ran to the airport to return his private jet to London.
Charlie, Armageddon is here, Charlie! Poor Glasgow still has ten more days.