The Rickie Lambert Story

August 2011, Kirby Beetroot Factory, Liverpool

The factory was a run down reminder of Victorian times. Electricity had not yet arrived in this district and the building was lit only by beetroot stained skylights and the dim burn of wax candles. A purple man slaved in the tank, his ample frame twisted from the arduous task of retrieving beetroot parts from the glutinous waters. He was naked, and the beetroot juices stained his skin and nails in a way which was to prove permanent. It was one of the most dangerous and demeaning jobs in Liverpool, worse even than benefits inspector. Dozens of men had died from prolonged exposure to beetroot carcinogens.

This man was Rickie Lambert. In just two years time he would be playing, and scoring, for England. This is how that miracle came to pass.

The early years

A young Rickie Lambert enjoys his first taste of beetroot

Rickie was born in the slums of Kirby,  in the coal cellar of an abandoned horse factory. There were no pediatric nurses on hand, Rickie was pulled from his mother's snatch by the filthy mittens of a toothless tramp named Sanchez, who at that time shared their family living space.

Rickie's mother scratched out a meagre living selling used vegetables to local students. Material comforts were want, but she always ensured that her son had the best clothes and nourishment that the Morrisons skips could provide. She always claimed that Rickie's father was a professional footballer, but it seemed more likely that he was fathered by a drunken one-night stand, or that she had fallen foul of Liverpool's lively rape culture. In either case, Rickie was resigned to never knowing his true parentage. He did not complain, it was nice to fit in with the other kids at school.

One memorable day, young Rickie turned out for the St. Kenny's Primary School football team. He took to the field barefoot and with his trouser legs rolled up, as he was far too poor to afford proper kit. He scored 6 penalties that day, each of them more unerringly accurate than the last until the referee caught up with him and pointed out that he didn't go to this school, and could he please fuck off as they were trying to have a match. Rickie tramped from the field dejected, and vowed never again to participate in organised sports.

The Wilderness Years

Nothing is known of Rickie from the ages of 12 to 29.

Nigel Adkins

Nigel Adkins was a former professional footballer who had been recently appointed manager of newly formed Premier League club Southampton FC. Native of Liverpool, he liked to return to that City on his free days to walk the slum districts writing inspirational poetry, and to see if he could pick up anyone tasty at the docks.

Chance, or fate, drew him to Kirby Beetroot Factory that day. He wandered into the main warehouse and stood in the doorway with a handkerchief held over his mouth and nose. There was a large vat in the centre of the warehouse. As Adkins watched, a creature burst from the waters like a salmon and volleyed a beetroot 30 yards across the factory and directly into a collection sack. The creature splashed back into the waters and disappeared. Before Adkins could write a single line of inspirational poetry, it happened again. And then again. Each volley was struck with the shooting accuracy of Lee Harvey Oswald. Adkins was amazed, "What is that?" he asked of a passing man in a stained overcoat. "Oh, that's Rickie Lambert. We call him The Fish."

Adkins stumbled back. Images were tumbling through his head of a girl he once knew in Kirby. Her name was Lambert and she always sad that were she to have a son, she would name him Rickie. Could it be? Was it possible? "Is this my son?" said Adkins, his voice hoarse from the toxic fumes of beetroot.

The Premier League

No son of Nigel Adkins would spend his life beetroot fishing in Victorian factories. Out of obligation and charity, Adkins gave Lambert a minor contract at Southampton Football Club. Rickie was never expected to play, but due to a mixture of circumstance and injury, Lambert found himself on the Southampton bench for the first game of the season.

Mid-way through the second half, with the scores tied, star Southampton forward Guly Do Prado was scythed down in the Manchester City penalty box. Do Prado was injured, unable to continue, but he was the only one Adkins trusted to take penalties. Adkins looked at his bench thoughtfully. "Rickie, you're on. Take the penalty."

Rickie was aghast. "But dad... I haven't... I don't know how!"

"Just relax. Imagine you're back in the factory. The ball is a beetroot, the goal is the sack."

Rickie scored with ease. He went on to score a further 14 penalties that year as Southampton won the Premier League.

England Call Up

For all his exploits in the Premier League, Rickie would never be called up for England. There was always someone younger, quicker or pony-tailed in his way.

Finally, with the World Cup Final of Scotland vs England looming, Nigel Adkins took matters into his own hands. He twisted Andy Carroll's ankle. He knobbled Daniel Sturridge's knees. He severed Wayne Rooney's head with a gash more voluminous than the rancid vagina of Katie Price. Finally it was enough. Rickie was in the England Squad!

World Cup Final

August 14th 2013, World Cup Final, England vs. Scotland, Wembley Stadium.

England were in trouble. The scores were tied 2-2, time was running out and all that England had on the bench was an uncapped former beetroot factory worker. Finally, England manager Gary Neville, acting more from desperation than hope, threw Rickie Lambert into action. 

Almost immediately Scotland manager Gordan Strachan hand-balled in the area and England were awarded a penalty! With the world watching, Rickie Lambert sensed his chance. He chinned Frank Lampard with a vicious upper-cut and took hold of the match ball. He placed it carefully on the penalty spot.

"The ball is a beetroot, the goal is the sack. The ball is a beetroot, the goal is the sack," repeated Rickie to himself.

The goal was scored! The World Cup was won! Rickie Lambert cried purple tears as all of England rejoiced and beetroot was declared the new national vegetable.