The Bootclaw Story

🥾 In the style of Bob Mortimer...

A tale of mud, maternal ingenuity, and a claw with a vendetta against filth.

It began on a Tuesday. Possibly a Thursday. The hallway was under siege - three boys, sixteen boots, and seventeen metric tonnes of mud. The carpet groaned. The dog refused to enter. And in the eye of the storm stood a mum armed with nothing but some Bic pen lids, a dream, and a deep hatred for the claggy.

She didn’t want to change the world. She just wanted to send mud packing. Nudge the boot fudge so to speak. And so, she summoned forth the image in her mind and the Bootclaw was born nine months later. 

🧤 What in the name of Bananarama does it do?

It’s a claw. For boots. A Bootclaw. Does what it says, doesn’t muck about. It scrapes. It gouges. It digs deep into the grooves of football boots, rugby studs, running shoes, and wellies. It’s like a tiny plastic goblin with a vendetta against dirt. It even has a built-in stud key, because why not? It’s the Swiss Army knife of sports gadgetry.

It’s pocket-sized. It’s feral. It’s got claws like a badger and I love badgers. No water. No nonsense. Just pure, unfiltered mud vengeance. It digs out the clag from studs like it’s settling a personal score. And that stud key, that's built in the handle like, is basically wizardry.

🎩 Why is it brilliant Bob?

Because the Bootclaw isn’t trying to be fancy - it’s trying to save actual lives. Muddy, chaotic, mostly football boot-based lives. It’s been through it all: the grim ballet of the school run, the swampy trenches of Sunday league, and one apocalyptic ramble where a rogue cow stared down a six-year-old until he sobbed.

TikTok? It did numbers. Coaches called it “revolutionary.” Parents called it “a miracle.” My mate Versatile Keith said it saved his marriage and changed his relationship with mud altogether.

🏆 Where did it come from?

A mum. A proper one. Not a CGI one or a soft-focus John Lewis one. A real-life matriarch with the kind of stare that turns milk. Not a marketing construct - but an actual bird with an engineering degree (a 2:2 mind). But that's why she saw it in her mind, designed it for her filthy clan, and now it’s cleaning up the nation, one stud at a time.

🎄Well should I buy one for me nephews and nieces then?

You bloody should. Unless you hate sport, nice things, or the Lionesses. And if you do hate the Lionesses, then I’m afraid you can't have one.

It's perfect for the festive sock. I put one in me nephew's stocking last year - he cried a bit, then named it Stephanie and took it round the garden to show the slugs. Said it made him feel ‘fresh-footed’ and it now keeps his dreams clean.  I often use one to comb the fluff off my hedgehog.