Michael Yates

Utility player

He says.....

Eeee – look at all’t big buildings wi’t twinkly lights! Blimey! There’s a big red house on wheels. Ah love London, me.

The lads say.....

(1) Dunderheed Mike would struggle to outwit a giraffe, with whom he shares the same lofty habitat. Mike’s pleasant demeanour belies a steely carnivorous streak, which has served him well when in the mixer. Surprisingly. for an ungulate, the boy often surprises defenders with his touch and dribbling ability.

(2) Mikey Yates, aka “special needs mikey”, quickly made an impression on the collective hearts and minds of FCTR. The reason for this is not just down to his apparent creation by Tim Burton, or his inspector gadger-esque attributes, but because, as the biggest freak within FCTR, he makes the rest of us look comparatively normal. On a more romantic note, he now occupies many of Johnny H's sordid thoughts as John cannot get the thought of Mikeys doe eyes out of his mind

(3) Michael Yates... a name that strikes fear to the core of your being. A bit like Michael Myers of Halloween fame crossed with Big Bird from Sesame Street, with the dress sense of David Hasselhoff a la Knightrider.

Cast your mind back, if you will, to the opening credits of this Eighties work on genius... "Knightrider! A shadowy flight into the dangerous world of a man who does not exist: Michael Knight - a young loner on a crusade to champion the cause of the innocent, the helpless, the powerless, in a world of criminals who operate above the law."

Does this sound familiar? “Kind of” I hear you say. How about now... "Kn*bjockey! A talentless flight into the dangerous world of a man who might as well not exist - Michael Yates - a young loser on a crusade to champion the cause of the north, the feckless, the tall, in a world of criminal Stu's who operate above the law."

As the lesser talented half of the Twin Towers, Yates has the elegance of a stampeding Emu, and would probably look better with Rod Hull's arm up his ar*e (rather than Johnny H's).

(4) He wandered from the dusty mills of Blackburn like a mongoloid, inbred from Village of the Damned. Wearing a hideous concoction of Speedo shorts (bought in "a hurry"), white tennis shoes, "Warhurst" embezzled Rovers shirt (with the letters peeling off) and wrapped in a filthy beige "duvet" puffa jacket - Mikey "Crazy Legs" Yates was (un)born into FCTR.

At 6' 10", the bungling, employed tea maker with the crippled giraffe frame is a true wonder of life let alone football. In need of a back-support to enable him to sit down without snapping in half, unable to find a pair of trousers in the galaxy that aren't blood-clot inducing drain-pipes and is so stupid and earnestly Northern he could be duped by a lobotomised Teletubby.

A versatile hero, Mikey has played with moderate success in every footballing position for the mighty 'Burg. When once deputizing as goalkeeper, the backward young John Cleese look-a-like seemingly wore roller skates allowing his lanky frame to be lobbed by a goal kick. That apart, Mikey is tenacious in midfield, lofty at centre back, devilish as striker and vicious in the showers after the game.

Big, confused, dozy, honest with a big heart, Mikey encapsulates the full spectrum of Tilburg's worst and best attributes shat into one northern slag heap

(5) Mikey Yates. Tall northern c**t.

(6) Mike’s an unsung hero when it comes to his Club Secretary role. It’s a truly difficult and invoving job, but he just gets on and does it without a word.