The most Dickensian-sounding footballers

[Stumpy Tim]

Lord Frazier Campbell & his pesky butler Fred (no one knows or cares what his surname is).

 

[happypig]

William McIntosh Davies, drunken former inn-keeper. Also known as the "anti-Havers" due to his complete lack of charm and charisma. Last seen abusing a street artist.

 

[Lady Whistledown]

From our opponents today: meet the humble & twinkly eyed tenant farmer, Mr Callum Harriott.

 

[crasher]

I sent out the office boy Joe Garner for porter and pies.

 

[Mowgli37]

Stanley Victor Collymore, newspapermen with a shady past.

 

[Twinkle Toes]

Master Isaiah Rankin. Wastrel offspring of a master cobbler, who discovered the evils of strong liquer during his apprenticeship. Quickly found himself sleeping on a girder beneath Westminster Bridge: occassionally crawling out to offer a shaky shoe shine to city gents - in a desperate bid to feed his continual craving for illicit ethanol.

ps Often shares his girder with young Micky Mellon: 3rd illigitimate son of Fanny Mellon, a renouned Whitechapel Gin Palace Strumpet.

 

[Superphil]

Martin Carruthers and Matthew Etherington. Posh players playing for the Posh, seem to remember one of them always scoring against us in those Priestfield days.

 

[Everest]

Titus Bramble , the dim whitted house boy of Joseph Barton Esq , the town gynaecologist.

Not forgetting Mr Barton's French assistant, Rod Fanni

 

[Pavilionaire]

Beware ye for your misdemeanours lest ye be tried by the dark and incomplete magistrate Uriah Rennie.

 

[crasher]

Sir Rodolph Austin, the eminent physician, whose mere presence in the bedchamber of London's ailing lords and ladies is said to be efficacious in the case of palsy, vapours, dropsy, rickets, jaundice and scarlet fever.

 

[Hiney]

Garfield Taylor-Fletcher, purveyor of fine suits, with a sideline in arrows.

 

[Lady Whistledown]

You lot are brilliant

 

[Hiney]

Nathaniel Jones, erstwhile magician

 

[Hiney]

Leonard Knight, circus dwarf, pickpocket and all round bad egg

 

[Stumpy Tim]

Ascribing some wonderful poetry in his glorious countryside cottage is young Byron Webster, the dashing young steed from Hertfordshire

 

[Lady Whistledown]

I'm standing at the station reading these on my phone, laughing out loud.

Anyone watching me may well think I'm borderline MENTAL

 

[Lady Whistledown]

Ascribing some wonderful poetry in his glorious countryside cottage is young Byron Webster, the dashing young steed from Hertfordshire

And his close friend (these poetic types always were a bit like that) Mr Byron Anthony, lately of the North Somerset Anthonys.

 

[Stumpy Tim]

And his close friend (these poetic types always were a bit like that) Mr Byron Anthony, lately of the North Somerset Anthonys.

Lest ye forget Master Clarke Carlisle, probably the finest laureate of his generation in the hills of Surrey

 

[crasher]

My days of unhappiness in the classrooms and dormitories of Dotheboys Hall were enlivened only by the company of my one, constant friend - Master Tommy Elphick - a cheery soul with whom I would spend many hours at marbles or bowling the hoop.

 

[Lady Whistledown]

The Times of London reports that petty crook Lewis Grabban The Younger was today convicted of a grand felony: that of stealing a loaf from Butters' the Grocer's. Judge Ward-Prowse sentenced him to transportation, describing him as "a dastardly sort" and ordering him to remain in leg irons at Rochester Prison until such time as the ship to the colonies departs.