Where is the justice?

When a player stands up for his right to host a drop-down-drunk, falling-asleep-in-the-lap-of-a-Stringfellows-hostess, spending-enough-money-on-booze-and-VIP-seating-arrangements -to-revamp-the-economy party, we should salute him, not punish him.

Last Saturday Stoke City got a dose of “Cescy time” courtesy of Arsenal. Gaffer Tony Pulis was none too happy about it and like a parent dropping the Santa Isn’t Real veil, revoked the previously-planned two days rest he gave his squad.

One issue: there was a major Christmas party romper planned that evening that James Beattie had lent a helpful hand in organizing.

Per Beattie’s astute calculations, he voiced his concerns that a full 48-hour period of recovery was necessary for players to collect their dignity in time for Tuesday. Crimbo party healing time, and all that.

Maybe not in those words but since we haven’t been accepted as Stoke City stalkers/mascots yet, we don’t have the entire factual locker room inside scoop.

Sadly, the 48 hour window of shame lock-down t’was not to be. Pulis and Beattie scuffled like any good West Side Story characters would: apparently some pushy-shovey ensued, towels flailed until gracefully settling onto the ground and a variety of man-parts were left exposed. Allegedly a stark naked Pulis headbutted Beattie’s post-shower bod and a masseur had to drag the Gaffer away.

Seriously, why haven’t our applications been accepted by Stoke City yet? Why?

No party recovery period and no confirmation as to what happened to the proposed shindig? Sure… poor pitch performances deserve a dress-down once in awhile, but a wayward penis? Pulis effectively killed off his team’s lone chance to rock around the Christmas tree and all he gave them was a peak at his family jewels in motion?

We say Justice for Beats and the bevvy of ladies he had lined up under his mistletoe.