In late 2007 Bob Servant decided it was time to make his long-awaited (by Frank) breakthrough into international football management. In quickfire succession he applied for the vacant posts of Scotland, England and Ireland manager. His applications are below. Tragically, he did not receive any replies.

See below for his Scotland job application or click HERE for his England application and HERE for his Ireland one (probably the strongest of the three).

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Broughty Ferry
Dundee
Scotland
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Thursday 29th November

Hello!

I am writing, as you have probably already worked out, to apply for the job of Scotland’s national team manager. I see the last chap has buggered off down south and, well, fair play to him. I remember when Chappy Williams went to work in Perth for six months and lot of people were having a right go at him, calling him a turncoat and a social climber, but what I always said is ‘Come on lads, give him a chance, he’s only doing it so he can buy a new Sierra’.

And you know what, I was right. Six months later Chappy was back in Stewpot’s bar, buying the drinks and with a lovely Sierra parked up outside. So if the man McLeish wants to go and earn himself a Sierra, then I for him will not stand in his way. And if it opens the job up for old Bob here, then I’m not exactly going to be complaining!

Well, I suppose I should tell you a little bit about myself. My name’s Bob Servant. Bob Servant? You’re probably thinking. Where have I heard that before? Cast your mind back, my friend, to the late 1980’s when Dundee was in the grip of it’s infamous Cheeseburger Wars. My God, it was chaos. But in the middle of that chaos, you’ve guessed it, was old Bob here.

During the Cheeseburger Wars I had anything up to seven vans on the streets and the bloody things never stopped. We used to have a queue of posties from five o’clock right through to the young ones at the back of two. Frank Theplank, my right hand man, once worked a 38 hour shift. But that was largely because he dropped his watch in the fryer and got confused.

From the burger vans I moved on to the windowcleaning game. Through the 1990s, I built that round up until it went from the Dundee Road right through to the Esplanade. My God, you should have seen us out there, we were magnificent. We had the most beautiful ladders you can imagine and more buckets than you will have ever seen in your life. I looked after my boys, that’s for sure. You should have seen the sandwiches for a start.

Since I sold the round I have become a bit of a man about town. I’m not short of a few quid, that’s for sure, but I’ll level with you and admit that I’ve been getting a little bored recently. And that’s why I think the Scotland job might have come along at the perfect time.

I’m a man’s man. That’s not in doubt, and I’m also a motivator. I remember when one of the young lad’s on the windowcleaning round told me he didn’t like the job. I told him that if he stuck at it then one day he could be standing where I was standing. He quit on the spot, but that’s not the point.

What I would say to the players is something short and snappy. Just before they ran out I would probably say –

“Ok lads, here we go. This is the big one. Believe in yourselves because, as far as I’m concerned you’re a bunch of crackers. Oh yes, you’re a right mob of Bobby Dazzlers. Go on boys, go out there and do the business. Wipe the floor with those jokers, they couldn’t lace your bloody boots. My God men, you’re magnificent. I love you, you’re like the sons I never had. Look after yourselves. And don’t make the mistakes I’ve made, with the women and the windowcleaning. Stick to the basics lads. Get the buckets filled up early and don’t trust women from Monifieth. On you go boys and don’t worry, I’ll have the sandwiches waiting at halftime. Or my name is not Bob Servant. Is everyone happy with their strips? We’ve got bigger shorts and socks if you need them. No? All OK? Great, well that’s it then. Time to go. Action Jackson. Geronimo. Off you go you bunch of belters”.

What do you think? Just to clarify, I would like to have Frank Theplank as my right hand man, but I have talked to him and he has already agreed to be paid in Panini stickers and one of those big manager’s jackets with his initials on it. Personally I wouldn’t be asking the earth in wages, just enough to keep me in the lifestyle I am used to. About five or six grand a year should do it.

Look forward to hearing from you.

Your Servant,

Bob Servant