Kick Off Looms

Well there is only just over a week to go till the Bantams kick off their season against Notts County. The summer signings look pretty good, Michael Boulding scored a hatful of goal last season for relegated Mansfield and in McLaren, Brandon and Arnison we have enticed three players who played at a higher level last season. Goalkeeper is a bit of a worry, it looks like Rhys Evans is going to be picked up, which isn't too bad, as he looked quite capable on his short loan spell last season. Crespos favourite, Willy Topp, has had an off season operation to clear up an injury, and if Thorne and Clarke can stay injury free, this could look pretty bright. But the best news, for me anyway, is the scintillating pre season goal scoring form of the Mighty Baz Conlon. Three in four, and another perfectly good one ruled out, shows the Bazmeister is hungry as the season prepares to start. I am only disappointed that some fella on the "Barry Conlon Appreciation Society" on Facebook, got his picture with him at the Prune Park. Where were you Helmet?? All the bookies make us favourites for promotion, and I don't see why we shouldn't at least make the play offs. In fact I have guaranteed a few people a victory against County. 3-0 to the Claret and Amber, and I am backing my bold prediction with a crisp ten pound note (it would have been twenty, but the crunch has bitten).

MMMMMcFlurrys

Driving around and about over the last month or two, I have been dismayed by the lack of guest McFlurry flavours at MaccyD's. Until a week ago, when they launched the McCornetto range, just in time to coincide with the late arrival of summer. Not one, not two but three varieties are available. Strawberry, Mint Choc and Chocolate Chip are the ones that arte available, and I went for the Choc Chip flavour. It was excellent. Crunchy wafer bits, smooth creamy chocolate sauce mixed with chunks of choc. MMMmmmmmm. But i do have one question, that I hadn't thought of till the Elster mentioned it. Why is McFlurry ice cream the coldest in the known universe? It always gives the Ikester brain freeze. I have decided to award it a place in my top five flavours, although it is no match for the mighty McMunchie.

Righteous Rule

A muggy evening down the Wood last night saw the Righteous Elite cruise to victory over the evil ne'er do wells of the JMF by three goals. We took the lead early on and apart from drawing level briefly during the first 15 minutes, the result never seemed to be in doubt. The MoFo will cry the poor tale over Dead Eyes injury, brought about when he decided to boot Crespo instead of the ball, but thems the breaks. If myself, Crspo and Clogs had not been so profligate in front of goal, the scoreline could have been quite embarrassing. Instead Big JohnnyM took up the slack, and put the result beyond doubt. The MoFo seemed out of sorts, only Young Gaz provided any real opposition. Funky didn't get wound up, Jamons toe pokes were well wayward and King Daves crazy runs were just plain crazy. Of course it wouldn't have mattered if they had been on their game, because we were fucking brilliant. Take that sperm lovers!

Line-ups;

JMF- Jamon, Dead Eye, Funky, Young Gaz and King Dave

EURO E- Crespo, Clogs, Lefty, Euro Bri and JohnnyM

2008 Season

• JMF wins -13



• Euro Elite - 16



• Draws - 0

Away Days

This week we travel to another ballpark, as in baseball, as we head west to Chavez Ravine in the city of Angels, L.A. It was a couple of days after my enslavement to the Elster, and me, Jamon and the Boy Dazzler decided, before we left Blighty, that it would be nice to break up our week in Vegas with a trip to see the Dodgers. The problem was the night before. We decided to go down to watch the pirate ship fight at Treasure island. We got there early, and decided to sample a beer or two before the show started. I asked for a round of Puckers, a schnapps like shot, and the bartender, a happy little Cambodian ambushed us. "You like shots, try these," he said. "They called Alaskan oil spill." The first one slid down nicely, but by the third, or possibly fourth, we were all over the place. It sent your vision funny, and by the time we got back to the pirate ship, it had already sunk to the depths, closely followed by our common sense. "I saw a Russian vodka bar last night," I piped up," shall we check it out?" So of we went to the Mandalay Bay. Outside was a statue of Lenin with his head cut off, and inside the bar was made out of ice(we tried all night to get Jamon to lick it, but he wouldn't). We sampled several varieties, got invited on a bucks party to a strip joint, got uninvited for being to lairy and generally caused mayhem into the small hours, when we decided to get something to eat, and retire for our seven a.m. flight. Myself and the Boy manged to fallout with Jamon, he called us idiots and stormed off to another bar, as me and Dazzler had another couple of night caps. "What's this got to do with the Dodgers" I hear you ask. Well I am just trying to paint a picture of the state we were in as we made our way for an early morning flight. We were rough. Dazzler was making noises akin to the Amazon rain forest, and Jamon was spookily silent. We stumbled around Hollywood before heading to the stadium, which was very impressive, if not for the size of its car park, which even had it's own traffic lights. The place is built on the side of a hill, and the climb up the stairs to get our tickets, nearly finished off the Boy. When we stepped through the turn stiles, the ground opened up below, and for a 1960's construction, it is very impressive, with its odd hexagonal shaped scoreboard, and wavy roof over one of the stands. We took our seats, and were hugely amused when Hanson, the teen sensations of the late 1990's came out to do the national anthem. It was red hot this particular, day and as we sat sweating out the gallons of vodka we swilled the night before, we slowly came round. It was also fan appreciation day, and they gave out prizes according to seat numbers. Jamon almost won a weekend in Vegas. Anyway, the Arizona Diamondbacks kicked the Dodgers ass that day, we bailed just after the seventh inning stretch, to head to Santa Monica, before the full capacity crowd descended on the ginormous car park, because Los Angeles is one massive sprawl, and everybody was driving. It is hard to berate the place for not being downtown, as I am not sure if L.A. actually has anywhere that could be considered the centre. A great day out? It would have been but for the hangover. Me and Jamon managed a beer each, and that was about that.

Statistics

• Capacity-56,00
  
• Concessions-Famous for its Dodger Dogs, though Jamon wasn't impressed because I got his smothered in Sauerkraut. Strangely for the USA, there was nobody to bring beer to your seat! I had to get off my arse and get my own! A definate minus point there. It recently opened an all you can eat stand in the right field pavilion. It also has the smallest subway stand I have ever seen (see below).
  
• Did You Know?-The top of a near by hill was removed to provide dirt to level out the enormous car park.
  
• Visited By-Euro Bri, Jamon and the Boy Dazzler.
  
• Rating-Field of Dreams-Although if we had been in finer fettle, a possible Mount Olympus. It is in a great setting, the view is spectacular, and the crowd was great fun, bouncing beach balls and hecklers. Like I say, there isn't much around the ballpark, but LA is a big car town, and nothing seems to be particularly close. Highly recommended.

Stop The Nonsense

Have been busy lately, and unfortunately our "Stop the Nonsense" campaign has stuttered to a halt at the moment. With Gordon and his half wit cronies doing their best to lose the next election, our worthy stand against the enemies of common sense has become side tracked. This does not mean we have given up the ghost, far from it, but for the greater good of ridding ourselves of the evil New Labour scourge, it has not been necessary to continue pointing out each and every idiotic piece of legislation, as we all start to witness their effects up close. From teachers not allowed to apply sun cream to the idiotic alcohol units campaign, it is as clear as the nose on your face that these clowns have truly lost the plot. Next time you get paid, and are fleeced by the taxman, utility companies and the local council, remember who it is being spent on. I sure hope all our esteemed members of parliament enjoy all those home furnishings we seemingly must pay for. And don't get me started on the work shy baby machines that are to be seen marching round in their poorly fitting Primark gear, pushing around prams full of bastard children with ridiculous names. Judging by the girth on most of them, a spell going hungry would do them the world of good. Anyway, I can sense myself going off on one at this rate, so I will calm myself down by grabbing a beer, a big fat one, chock full of units paid for with what is left of my hard earned.

There that feels much better. Back to the "Stop the Nonsense". I appreciate that we all are busy trying to make ends meet at the moment, and are also planning or enjoying holidays as we speak, but lets not let our campaign die. Check in on the forum once in a while, that can be found by clicking here. Don't be shy about posting a comment, it can be about anything, from whats twisting your testicles in politics to your favourite McFlurry combination (the McMunchie rules!) It speaks volumes that the most active topic is currently our Quest for the Holy Meatball. Tell your mates, have some fun, that what it is all about, whilst we make our feelings felt about the waste and stupidity of the ruling classes. i am also going to start up a Facebook group, and once Xmas is out of the way, we can start to raise funds to get the Right Honourable Shouty elected to raise hell!!

Stop the Nonsense!!

Warm

At last summer has arrived, it has been a beautiful weekend, and hopefully it will continue. The only problem is not much is happening. The old credit crunch is starting to bite, and no one seems to have much bender cash spare at the moment. City's first game of the season is a must, although only myself, Crespo, Shouty and El Queso are definites. With Leeds away for their first outing, the mercenary is toying with the idea, and I think Funky may well be gigging somewhere. The Boy continues to do a Howard Hughes. Anybody with a smart idea for an outing feel free to let me know.

Shouty and the Saltaire Posse

Next Saturday is the Right Honourables birthday, and we are off around the wasteland that is Bradford City centre for beers and mischief. after suitable lubrication it is off to the casino to sacrifice our shirts. Sounds like fun. A nice warm up for the first game of the season the week after. Good news for the Mighty bantams is the recent signing of 25 goal striker Michael Boulding. Our first game is against Notts County, who were woeful last season, so nothing shy of a ten goal victory is expected. Thorne and Boulding with first half hat tricks, followed by Big Baz outdoing them both off the bench with four goals of his own, all from the penalty spot. At last Saturdays will have meaning again. All we need now is for City to get a decent pie supplier. By the way, has anybody seen the Boy??

Banjo Quest

The search for a new Banjo King of Bradford got off to a pretty good start. My first stop was at Clarks butty shop just on Clayton Lane, although it says Fullers above the store. The service was quick, and the sarnie was a good size, and most importantly they didn't forget to put on the brown sauce. In my book this is THE cardinal sin. If it is forgotten once, I never darken that establishments door way again. So the bacon was good, the mushrooms not greasy, and they remembered the brown sauce. The price came to £1.75, which I thought was excellent value. As the first shop visited it sits astride the top of the leader board. Mmmmmmmmm bacon...

King Dave Reigns

Well shiver my timbers, the JMF stopped playing with each others sacks long enough to score a victory. After last weeks drubbing, the consensus from both sides seemed to indicate that the Righteous were to strong for the MoFo. They took an early lead, but we soon eased into the lead and when Luklear took a stroll through his own penalty area, the die appeared to be cast. But an over confident Euro scuffed the resulting penalty straight at Dead Eye, and the arse bandits perked up. An astonishingly poor goalkeeping display from Shouty (he blamed his defence, but he kicked one into his own net, and was beat from long distance numerous times) saw the JMF rattle off eight unanswered goals. we soon pulled to within one, but couldn't forge a lead, as the game moved from end to end. The MoFo were putting in an excellent performance, but with just five minutes remaining, we finally pulled level, and looked to be in the ascendancy. But I must hold my hands up at this point, and admit to a keeping howler of my own. I was to busy trying to find an opening down the court, and allowed the ball to roll outside of the are to Luklear who squared for Dead Eye to score. Then King Dave drove the final nails into the coffin, as poked two curlers off his big toe into the top corner, and secure a three goal victory. It was a good game, and the sphincter boys showed there is still a bit of spunk left in them, as they try to overcome their season long deficit, which now stands at two. Can they keep it up?? I doubt it..


Line-ups;

JMF- Jamon, Dead Eye, Funky, Luklear and King Dave

EURO E- Crespo, Mercenary, Shouty, Euro Bri and JohnnyM

2008 Season

• JMF wins -13



• Euro Elite - 15



• Draws - 0

Away Days

For a change this week, I have decided to re-visit a ground that we only went too once, back before digital cameras were readily available. As I have gone on about the way that new grounds tend to be soulless out of town arenas, with little atmosphere, this week it is the turn of a venue that has been replaced by a modern structure, and no longer exists. Maine Road, in Moss Side Manchester, was the home for eighty years to Manchester City. It was a 1997 Nationwide football game, that we went to see the Mighty Bantams take on City. Those familiar with the area will not be surprised to learn I was asked for a fiver to mind my car. "It's a company car," I said to the young ragamuffin, who shrugged and took off to find a more gullible away fan. You approached the ground through gynells and alleys in the the middle of loads of terraced housing. It has to be said that it was a pretty impressive structure, until we were shepherded into our seats, which were in a temporary stand, uncovered, and at the mercy of the elements. It was a freezing day, to boot. The first half, if memory serves, was pretty dull, but the Man City fans were making for good entertainment, as they made throat slashing gestures towards us. This in turn lead to much foul mouthed, threat heavy chants back at them. Just the way it should be. We got beat by a solitary goal scored in the second half, and as we left, the place throbbed to the tune "Blue Moon" The alleys mentioned before were great ambush territory, and I would love to tell you how we burst into City chants, but as me and the Waynster had managed to get separated, and were surrounded by chanting Mancs, decided to mumble our way through a chorus of Blue Moon, as we headed to the car. I know that times have changed, and when you go to away games now it is a lot safer, and unless it's Leeds or Huddersfield you can have a friendly chat with opposing fans, but I miss that dangerous tension you used to get.

Statistics

• Capacity-35,150 at closure, over 80,000 when opened
  
• Concessions-Old ground, that had a tiny burger van to dispense pies and beers. Slow moving queue, but thick servers, who gave the Waynster 4 pints and 4 pies and couldn't work out how much. So Wayne offered a fiver, which she accepted. Result.
  
• Built-1923. Closed 2003. Demolished 2004
  
• Did You Know?-The last Blues goal was scored by Marc Vivien-Foe, who sadly died two months later playing for Cameroon against France of heart failure.
  
• Visited By-Euro Bri, El Grande Queso, Mallcy and the Waynster
  
• Rating-Field of Dreams-Sure it was a crap hole, situated in the middle of an even bigger crap hole, but it had bags of character. Blues fans are always good value, and even though it was intimidating around the ground, it was a true buzz. Your Grand kids won't believe you that there were places like this. Enjoy the ones that are left, while they last.
  

New Banjo Needed

A sad thing happened today. I was in need of a bacon and mushroom banjo, and I just happened to be in the vicinity of my favourite purveyor of said treat, when i got a nasty shock. The sign above the shop said Frankie B's, but what was beneath was certainly not. They have sold up! The new place, which was painted sterile white, was trying to cash in on the Subway boom, going by the name Substantial. I figured I am here now, so I ordered a bacon and mush "sub". There was plenty of it, mostly bread, and the mushrooms had been grilled to oblivion. Even the brown sauce tasted like a cheap supermarkets own variety. Substandard would have been a more suitable name for this particular business. So I am now in search of a new "Best in Bradford" banjo. There are many good sarnie shops, most notably Salad Fayre, who do great sandwiches, but their bacon offering is, to be quite frank, poor. Basils in Clayton is also long gone, and the two blonde bubble heads who run it couldn't make a decent sarnie if their life depended on it. So please feel free to inform of any other establishment that may be worthy a replacing Frankie B's. Just remember, I don't like 'em greasy.

More Binge Than Bender

Another challenge has been dusted off, as me, Crespo and Shouty met up with Sproket and Plus 1, to take on the Westgate Run in Wakefield. Top buffoon points go to the Wakey lads, who showed up in matching shirts, but they called us out for sporting our 1860 bands, but it still wasn't as gay as wearing the exact same shirt. We stuffed a swift one down us in Saltaire, before hooking up at The Redoubt, starting point for the binge ahead. It was a nice traditional boozer, the pics on the wall showing the pub football teams from the mid seventies were priceless. The next few pubs along the run were old pubs that had the character dragged out of them to be replaced by the bland "modern" look. In the third one, some jolly old geezer started smiling and winking at me, which I tried to to ignore, before he came up and started rambling on about how he hadn't seen me for ages. "I've never seen you, ya daft old fart" I said to him. "I am over from Bradford", to which he laughed and told me I looked like some other handsome devil, and then asked if I was a Leeds fan! Knobhead. By the sixth pub out of nine, we were getting lairy, Shouty did something with his wristband that I can't remember, but it was apparently hilarious according to Sprocket (aka KC, but christened Sprocket due to his resemblance to Ronnie "Rocket" O'Sullivan. Plus 1 got his name because he is called Dave). By the time we made it into Boon's there was no pain being felt, and in the Elephant and Castle (my favourite of the nine) we were joined by a geezer wearing a tie, whose name totally eludes me. It upset Crespo a bit though, because he was younger than him. The last two pubs were seen off in double time, as Shouty announced he reckoned he could make it back to the Redoubt, having a pint in each one on the way. We all called him an idiot, 18 pints indeed, but we could see he was serious, so the geezer in the tie took us to a pub that was like a cave. A big white one that served beer. Me and KC snuck off for a meatball sub, and the scoundrel nicked one of my cookies. Twat. It was off then to one last boozer before it was time for the last train. After we left, Sprocket made a break for a cab back to Castleford, and plus 1 and the geezer wearing a tie, headed for the "Mexican Quarter" of Wakefield, so called because it has a night club called Havanna's, which is named after a city in Cuba ( I don't think Geography is taught in this part of the world.) The train home was a bit of a chore, as we had to put up with Mr "I'am not going to any nightclubs" Shouty, beg me and Crespo to go to the PM bar. For forty minutes he pleaded, but we were done, and as I arranged for a cab and Crespo got a pizza, the Right Honourable sulked off to the PM bar on his own, having two more pints before retiring. I dropped the boy Crespo off at home, and decided to have a fish finger butty before going to bed. I only found out today, 48 hours later, that said sandwich was found regurgitated in the back garden by a seriously unamused Elster, who also found a pile of half price tickets to a place called Wildcats, a "gentleman's" club on the kitchen table. I have know idea how they came to be in my possession. The whole night cheered me up no end, and me and Sprocket have decided to make it an annual event. Wakefield gets a definite thumbs up.

Westgate Run

The time for the Westgate Run is upon us, I have been to the Candia, and am heavily fortified with spicy meatballs for the bender ahead. We get into Wakefield for around 16:20, and head for the Redout, starting point for the aforementioned run. The last train back is at 23:35, so it will be interesting to see if we can manage to catch it. It is currently not raining(!?!), but how long that lasts is anybodies guess. Hopefully this will snap me out of my current torpor, as well as Shouty and Crespo, as there ain't much going on at the moment. A full buffoon report will be posted as soon as possible, hangover permitting.

Annoyed

In fact, starting to get really pissed off with this fucking awful summer. One, that right ONE, stinking decent day since I got back from the USA. It is freezing for this time of year, and don't get me started on the rain. If the sun decides to peek out from behind a slate grey cloud, it always happens at about eight o'clock at night. Its the middle of July for heavens sake! Sorry to be so whiny, but it is sucking the life out of me. I just hope we get some kind of sunshine over the weekend as a few of us are off to tackle the Westgate run in Wakefield, but I don't hold out much hope, the forecast is scheduled for yet more rain. I am beginning to feel suicidal.

Righteous Smite MoFo

The Euro boys were way to hot for the cock sniffing JMF last night, as they were demolished by 14 goals. This was after we even gifted them a four goal start, even though King Dave was between the sticks. But it was to be short lived, as after flipper feet came out we cruised into a lead that was to be briefly lost once, at 5-4, as we gave the lameoids a master class. In there favour it has to be said we had a purple patch, in which everything we hit went in, but to be obliterated by 14 goals just proves how superior we were. Young Gaz ran riot, and myself and Crespo chipped in with a shed full of goals ourselves. Big John was the rock at the back, and Shouty ran them into the ground. Lowlight for the MoFo was the Funky Messiah surrender at the death, as he hurled his teddy from his cot. Oh how it made me smile to see the arse bandits implode. Can they recover?? Only time will tell, but tonight they will be crying themselves to sleep.

Line-ups;

JMF- Jamon, Dead Eye, Funky, Luklear and King Dave

EURO E- Crespo, Young Gaz, Shouty, Euro Bri and JohnnyM

2008 Season

• JMF wins -12



• Euro Elite - 15



• Draws - 0

Is There a New Champion??

I am returned from Bibis Italianissimo in Leeds. The service was fantastic, and the setting was very nice. The food was great, Elsters Angus beef was fantastic. My spaghetti and meatballs was a healthy portion, and the tomato sauce was tangy and rich, just the way I like it. But the meatballs were not as good as the reigning champion Candia. There was plenty of them, and they tasted pretty good, but spicy?? I should have them sent back under the trade description act. I've had spicier custard. And they were too round. Meatballs are not supposed to be spherically round, not in my book anyway. They should be ragged, and big. Like I say, apart from the spicy issue, they were pretty tasty, above average. But the quest continues. Next on my list is the Ital restaurant in Bradford, as recommended by King Dave. But don't let this report put you off visiting Bibi's, far from it. Everything else spot on. Big thumbs up from me.

Quest for the Holy Meatball

Happy birthday to the Elster. This means I get to take her out for some grub, so this year, on the advice of G-Spot, i am off to Bibis Italinissimo in Leeds, which is rated very highly by all that have been. I have perused the menu, and although there were many dishes to tempt the palate, the Spaghetti Con Polpettine E Pomodoro will be my choice. Yes. it is Spaghetti with Spicy Mmmmeatballs. I will present my full prognosis, and pit them against the mighty greasy spoon, the Cafe Candia, which at present holds forth as my champion. let battle commence.

Fantasy Footbal 2008/9

As the pitiful English summer continues it's grey, cool and rainy ways, we finally see a shard of light appear. Yes, the football season is now only four weeks away, a bit longer for the Premier League, as all those over paid thespians need an extra week to practise their dying swan technique. This means that the Bendership will also be kicking off, and you can register your teams now at the Sun Dream team homepage. Anybody who needs the codes to enter the mini league please contact me, although I think I have sent one out to everybody. Last years winner, Big John, will be trying to repeat his first year fluke, with bitter rivals Funky and Euro Bri hoping to improve on their second and third place finishes, although I report with relish the fact that Funky also finished in last place. Previous winners, Lobon and Shouty will no doubt be hoping to be the first players to repeat as champion. The Duke will be fancying a tilt at the title, as will Crespo, who always thinks he picks a good side, but usually ends up with eleven dog turds. Hopefully we will come up with some kind of trophy, but seeing as we are a bunch of slack arses, I doubt it.

Westgate Run

It's just over a week away now, and it looks like it will be the TSV boys who will be batting for the bender squad. Shouty, Crespo and my good self are meeting up with local tosspot KC to tackle the supposedly world famous Westgate Run in Wakefield. The plan is to get a train over around noon, sup our way up the afore mentioned road, and get the last train home. The perfecy crime. If any of ye fancy joining us, let me know.

Furry Lugs

Over the last couple of years i seem to have been struck down with a strange curse. Furry Lugs. I go to bed on a night, and wake up the next morning, and there always seems to be a one inch hair sticking out of me lughole. Where the fuck did it come from? And there is always one for each ear. Why? How? What? Complete strangers walk up to me in the street, and say "Stay still" just before they yank out one of the little blighters out. I've bought an ear hair trimmer, but that appears to have pissed them off, as now instead of just one or two long straight ones, I am starting to get little curly ones that are hiding just inside the folded bits. Perhaps my knackers are migrating to the sides of my heed. I don't know what the devil is happening but it ain't half pissing me off.

JMF Fold

My word, the cock loving JMF took a beating last night. Not once did they lead, the closest they came was pulling back to within two goals, as the Euro boys gave them a lesson. Goals rained in from every angle, and every tea member, although Crespo's air shot with just King Dave to beat was priceless. But he was not alone. The usually clinical Dead Eye must have had his boots on the wrong feet, and he was the MoFo's top scorer. Luklear and Funky were in banjo and cows backside mode, the later even relegating himself to goal keeping duties for the final minutes, so disgusted was he with his own ineptitude. But the worst showing went to the JMF's Young Gaz, not for play up front, but his stint between the sticks. He jumped over one shot. He let one pass though his legs. But his worst moment was surely when he dived the wrong way, and then tried to rectify his mistake, nearly hanging himself on the goals netting. So the MoFo spurn yet another chance to pull level in the race for the 2008 championship, and they sloped off the pitch with heads held low. Take that seaman slurpers!



Line-ups;

JMF- Young gaz, Dead Eye, Funky, Luklear and King Dave

EURO E- Crespo, Mercenary, Shouty, Euro Bri and JohnnyM

2008 Season

• JMF wins -12



• Euro Elite - 14



• Draws - 0

A Toast to TSV

Sorry to go on about Der Lowen so much, but with the weather, yes it is raining again, being so shite, there is not much going on. I hope you liked the shirts section I did last night, and would like to explain why I did not make such a big deal about the Mighty Bantams new away kit. The answer is quite simple. It was modelled by Wayne Jacobs. Any how, I have had a response from Crespo, who likes the new 1860 kit, and will be canvassing the Shoutster for his opinion at five a side tonight. If anyone else desires any TSV garb, please let me know, and we can split the delivery costs, which aren't cheap. It doesn't have to be just the shirt either. I still can't find the club Lederhosen, but the sell all sorts of stuff, from groovy caps right through to flip flops, but the best item has to be this little beauty. I am seriously thinking of getting one;

New TSV Kit On Sale

Me, Crespo and the Right Honourable Shouty were all agreed that last seasons home kit was pretty poor, although I quite liked the away kit. So we were looking forward to seeing what the new manufacturers, Erima (?), would come up with. Well this what they came up with:




Not sure what to make of it. The yellow one is gross, no doubt, even the fit bird wearing it cannot redeem it, but I kind off like the new home kit (the white one), whilst the the striped one is not bad. To see them in all their glory click here. It take you to a website that is devoted to the replica shirt. It even has a comments section that other fans can pass judgment on. I like the one guy who reports that the TSV Mega-Store at the Allianz Arena even sells TSV Leiderhosen, modelled by the mighty bender twins, Lars and Sven. But they ain't cheap. The official website has them priced at 44 Euros, without name, or 60 Euros with a name on the back. Shouty wants "Der Kolschinater" on the back of his. I suggest me, Shouty and Crespo draw straws to see who gets which shirt. Won't we look a trio of Bobby Dazzlers?? Hope I don't get the canary yellow one...

Away Days

This week I have decided to return the good ole US of A, and yet another baseball park. This week we visit Jacobs Field (now called Progressive Field, but known to everyone as the Jake) home of my beloved Cleveland Indians. Camden Yards was the first, but the Jake followed on soon after, with a new downtown ball park, modelled on the ballparks of days gone by. It replaced the so called "mistake on the lake" Municipal Stadium, which held 70,000 plus, but was a dump. The ballpark coincided with a resurgence of form by the Indians (aka the Tribe), which saw them reach two World Series after years of being the laughing stock of Major League Baseball (see the movie Major League). I have been quite a few times now, I try and get a game every time I visit Ohio, and have to say what a fine venue it is. It doesn't have the history of Wrigley Field, fair enough, but on game day the surrounding streets buzz with bars, and street vendors. The stadium itself is faultless, it was recently best ballpark by fans in the magazine Sports Illustrated, and it has plenty of beer vendors. Once again, as you would expect from a modern ballpark, there isn't a bad seat in the house, and the downtown skyscrapers make a fine back drop in the outfield. When the Tribe were at their peak during mid to late nineties, it even set a record for sellouts, a string of 455 games with maximum attendances stretching from 1995 to 2001. The streak ended when the Browns made their long awaited return to Cleveland, and the teams winning season streak came to an end. Of course this means you don't struggle for tickets like you once did, although if the Tigers, Red Sox or Yankees are in town you might be advised to book ahead to avoid disappointment. A great place to watch a game on a beautiful summers day. Oh, and my mum caught a foul ball here, the only member of our family to snag one. I nearly got one here as well, but the beer affected my reflexes, and I nearly broke my neck. In fact I got so drunk at that particular game, I think we were playing the Tigers, but as far as I knew it could have been Manchester United, I fell asleep in the foot well of the car on the way home. Not an easy thing to achieve.

Statistics

• Capacity-43,345
  
• Concessions-This is America, so you know the food is going to be pretty good, and the choice extensive. And they bring you beer in your seats. What more could you ask for?
  
• Built-1994
  
• Did You Know?-The building of the stadium was funded by a 15 year "Sin" tax on alcohol and cigs.
  
• Visited By-Big Al, American Frank and Euro Bri
  
• Rating-Mount Olympus-I know I am biased, I love the place. It is smack in the middle of town, and surrounded by bars. I know it sounds like I think all bar parks are fantastic, but trust me they are not. Later in this thread I will visit at least two ballparks that do not fall in to this category. But to be fair most baseball stadiums are pretty fantastic places. As I have pointed out before, they have turned their backs on the sterile conformity that seems to infest European sporting venues at the moment, and they are a damn sight better places for it.

Quack, Quack

This has not been a great summer. House prices falling, credit crunch, fuel prices and having a government who thinks it's all your fault, and are devising ever more evil ways of taking your money and enriching the feckless are one thing, but when the weather sucks this bad, it really kicks you in the nads. It is the seventh of July, and I could see my breath. And it wasn't late at night, or early in the morning, it was at high noon. And it was raining. Not the usual pissy drizzle that the UK seems to specialise in, but proper, gets you absolutely soaking wet, cant see out the windscreen of my car rain. and it's been like this for weeks. Even when this strange sphere like thing called the Sun makes a rare appearance, it still rains! I have checked the weather for the rest of the week, and guess what? More rain! And there's a pigeon in my chimney! I don't know how it got there, but until yesterday it was making a right racket. So now I am looking forward to the delightful aroma of rotting bird flesh, to offset the continual pitter patter of raindrops. And if that's not bad enough, I can't get the remote off the kids, who have cable locked onto the Disney channel 24/7, as its too wet to go out. This wouldn't be so bad, but they only seem to hire about 11 actors and actresses, who all show up in each others shows. And it sucks!! Apart from the chick who is in HSM and The Suite life, who is pretty damn hot. Its going to be November before you know it, and you won't even be able to tell. I blame New Labour. Bunch of wankers.

Stop The Nonsense

Over the last few weeks, between vacation time and not really giving an arse, I am ready to get back to the business of Stop The Nonsense. Part of the reason I am ready to relaunch this thread, is the vintage week we have just had i the world of bolloxs. First up is the booties for police dogs, sent into Muslim properties, when searching for drugs or weapons of mass destruction. It seems we cant be offending pushers or fanatics. it stems from Scotland, where a Muslim councillor complained about a crime prevention poster featuring a German Shepard puppy, as he claims his religion says they are unclean. One guy, that's right, one guy makes a complaint and an internal inquiry is held, and now police pooches need to wear socks. Nonsense indeed. Sticking with the Federales, is the story about a sniper who is so lethal at what he does, he has acquired among his colleagues the nick name "killer", a name he appeared to have no problems with. That is until one of his superior officers cracked a joke about it at a social function. This so called "Killer", who is responsible for the demise of several people, had his feelings hurt by this supposed slur, that he entered a grievance, and because it was cheaper than taking the matter through a tribunal and legal hearings, they said "Sorry mate.." and slipped him £5,000. To follow any other path would have cost the tax payer upwards of £150,000, so the decision was taken to cough up the cheaper option. But what the fuck, it is only tax payers money, isn't it. I can imagine trying to the same in my job, the next time my gaffer refers to me as a "Fuckwit" A golden P45 would more than likely be my reward.

Next up is probably the most useless man in Britain, Gordon Brown. After stealing away our pensions and taxing us to within an inch of life, he now tells us to start cleaning our plates, as food wastage is contributing to rising food prices. How the devil would he know? I just bet he digs out his wallet to pay for the no doubt most expensive food, at the seemingly endless functions he seems to attend. Only last week, his stooge in the Chancellery, Alistar Darling, was telling us all to start tightening our belts, as he and the top brass at the Bank of England chowed down on a lavish, no doubt paid for by our hard earned, million course meal. i tell you, these people must think we are as thick as pig shit. Of course the rise in food cost has nothing to do with soaring transport costs or farmers changing production over to bio-fuels, it is your fault for tossing that "buy one get one free" loaf of bread that has two out of date slices left on it. And all this about the poor in India, Pakistan having to beg for food. Every article you read seems to have some poor wretch wailing that she will be unable to feed her seven kids. Seven kids? I'd struggle to pay to feed seven kids on my wage. Of course if I had seven kids in this country it would mean I was living in a five bedroom council house, on benefits of £25,000+ a year, but that my friends is a rant for another day. So you better stop hiding your broccoli under your spuds come Sunday dinner, or Gordon will send round the Grub Gestapo to take you for re-education. I may be joking now, but if this country were to give this buffoon anther term in office...

To close out this weeks STN news is a story I found on the BBC website, that shows Nonsense isn't just confined to these shores, but is truly an International problem (Well mainly in Europe and the USA). It happened in Sweden, and centres around a young boy who was having a birthday party. The eight year old showed up to school and invited all his school chums, bar two, who were obviously not chums, or they would have been in invited. But one of the teachers caught wind of this, and confiscated all the invitations, saying it was discriminatory not to invite everybody, and as such was illegal, according to the school, who reported the matter to the Swedish Parliament. I kid you not. They are claiming this eight year old has violated the rights of the two kids not invited. It would be funny, but mark my words, it will more than likely be coming to a school near you....

Stop The Nonsense!!!

Rescued

Just when i thought I would be stuck at home with the Elster, Shouty and Crespo ride to the rescue. The usual Friday night George crew, are all other wise engaged, so I looked to be stranded all alone. But the terrible two have just phoned, and the Elster is dropping me off in town. Hurrah, on the beer once again!!

Bantams Away

After the debacle of the Bundesliga 2 schedule, I approached the Bantams away fixture list with trepidation, figuring that I would be hit with a double whammy of unachievable destinations. Thankfully, I was pleasantly surprised. I know we have already pencilled in the 13th of December to visit Brentford, but I have checked my schedule for the next of the year, and it looks good for visiting quite a few places. First up is probably the longest trip I can make in what's ledft of 2008, Aldershot on the 30/09. It is near Woking, just south of London, and Google maps has it pegged at just under 4 hours by car, which makes it a bit of a stretch. The next one up is a definite in my book. It's a Tuesday night game on the 21/10 at Darlington, a date that fits into my schedule perfectly, as i have the next day off, and am only working a half day on the day of the game. Plus it is on a good train route. I reckon I can talk Crespo into it no problem, Shouty might be a harder sell. Just a few days later, Friday night to be exact, there is a chance to go fishing as we play Grimsby (yes Shouty, I know it's in Cleethorpes), so it is a possibility. The next definite is Rotherham away, if they are still in business (yes Shouty, I know they now play in Sheffield). We have been trying to make this away day for a couple of seasons now, and it has finally fallen on a suitable date. Rounding out the year, in December, is the aforementioned Brentford game, of which interest is high. One last footnote to the year though is the 28/12, the now infamous Otleyfest (it even has a Facebook group). That day we are home to Morecambe, so ti would be a quick train and taxi ride (yes Shouty, I know Otley hasn't got a train station) to sup some spicy soup, and even more ale. There may be other opportunities, but as it stands, this is the line up for our away travels following BCFC. I will post a 2009 schedule nearer the time. I would like to try and make it to the Rochdale game in '09, as I am desperate to try their famous pies. It's a Tuesday night, so I don't for see to much trouble, weather permitting.

JMF Pull a Turkey

Just like Turkey in the recent Euros, an outplayed JMF somehow found away to lead for the the most important part of a football game, the last five minutes. Up until then, they had basically been played off the court, but a lethal mixture of profligacy and over confidence allowed them to some how conjure up a victory. Even now, three hours after the games conclusion, I struggle to comprehend the final outcome. The gaylords took an early two goal lead, but we soon rectified this, and surged ahead, but never far enough to cause the fragile mindset of the MoFo to implode. As we reached the three quarter mark, an own goal by King Dave summed up their performance, but from then on in, and it pains me to say it, they showed great fortitude not to give up, and dragged themselves first level, and then miraculously into the lead, finally winning by two. I'll go to the foot of my stairs, but the cock munchers did it. Bunch of wankers.

Line-ups;

JMF- Jamon, Dead Eye, Funky, Luklear and King Dave

EURO E- Crespo, Dr Shotgun, Shouty, Euro Bri and JohnnyM

2008 Season

• JMF wins -12



• Euro Elite - 13



• Draws - 0

Bollox!!

Fucking typical. I have been waiting patiently for the TSV fixture list for next season to plan our now annual trip to see Der Lowen play. The first choice game was to travel to Hamburg, to visit the Reeperbahns very own St Pauli, but this game has been scheduled for the 21st of September, and there is no way on Gods green earth that I will be able to afford it, with Tom's stag night at the beginning of the month, and then Paris with the Elster in early October. So our next choice was the self styled capital of the Balck Forest, Freiburg. Shouty has a mate in Basle, who was willing to put up three of us free of charge, and it is only an hour or so on the train. But guess what the opening game of the season is?? That's right, Freiburg away. With no hols left for this year, my two preferred games are not going to happen. So it has left us in a bit of a pickle. The only decent game in 2009, is Nurnberg away, the last day of the season and a Bavarian derby to boot, so tickets will be like the proverbial rocking horse shit. This leaves a home game as an option, but lets face it, if we are going to do that, it would be wise to do it during the Oktoberfest, and I don't have cat in Hells chance of being able to afford it this year. So it looks like we might be hitting a backwater early next year. Even I haven't heard of some of these teams, FC Ingolstadt 04, Rot-Weiß Oberhausen or SV Wehen Wiesbaden. Could be interesting, I shall investigate.

Away Days

This weeks it is back to Der Fatherland, and the scene of England's demise at the 2006 World Cup, Gelsenkirchen, or as Sandro refers to it, Gherkin-Kit-Kat. Before we went to see a game at this stadium, we went to pick up our tickets for the Italy-Czech Republic game, so we already knew how far out of town it was, and even by modern standards, it is truly mile away from anything. The nearest train station was a 30 minute tram ride away, and there is absolutely nothing near it. The day we went to see the England-Portugal quarter final, we drove, so getting there was not much of chore, but apart from a couple of caravans selling beer, there was just a hotel selling beer, and it was rammed. Still we were like a trio of giddy kippers waiting for the game. None of us had seen England play before, never mind a knockout game of this magnitude, and we had paid through the nose to get tickets that bore the names of three German people, one that appeared to be a ladies name, so as we approached the gate, fortified with plenty of ale, we were slightly nervous. They checked our bags, and took the briefest of glimpses at our tickets. We were in!! We celebrated with several beers and took up our seats to belt out the national anthem, and get ready to see the lads finally perform to the level we new they could. We wished. The highlight of the first half was the whistle signalling its end. During the half time interval, Volker Wanderlust (Danny) introduced himself to Harry Enfield, who just happened to be wandering bye. Then when we back to our seat, we found out he had been sitting behind us all the time. The Second half was a tense affair, ending at 0-0. When the Portuguese seemed to have scored the winner, only for it to be ruled offside, Stevie treat Mr Enfield to a "Calm Down" style scouser, which if it didn't amuse Harry, sure amused the boy Queso. Of course everyone knows what the eventual, some would say inevitable, outcome was, and we sloped off back to Holland, drunk and dejected. To make matters worse, we took a wrong turn, and ended up walking miles the wrong way round the ground, surrounded by celebrating Portugeezers. Skanks kicked off, of course, and ended up getting his collar felt.

So what about the stadium itself? Well it is considered one of the most modern structures in the world. Fully retractable roof, not a bad seat in the house, and the highest UEFA rating. The pitch is on rollers, so it can be moved outside the ground, keeping the pitch in tip top condition, and the concession stalls are the best I have seen outside of the USA. But it totally lacks soul. It might be different with roof open, I am not the biggest fan of indoor arenas, or if Schalke were playing, but I can only go on my experiences. Would I go again? Only if Schalke were playing the mighty TSV 1860.

Statistics

• Capacity-61,482 (all seating 53,951)
  
• Concessions-The best I've come across on mainland Europe. Beers in seats, quick and efficient, with plenty of choice, especially if you like wurst.
  
• Built-2001
  
• Did You Know?-Is built above two old mine shafts, and the foundations contain 600,000 m³ of packed slag, a waste product from the local coal mines.
  
• Visited By-Euro Bri, El Grande Queso and Volker Wanderlust
  
• Rating-Park Pitch-A geeks wet dream, it is technologically impressive, but to me it is just a big hangar that hosts football games. There is nothing unimpressive about the structure. it just leaves me cold. And talk bout out of town! It's official website proudly boasts that it is within 50kms of live 6.4 million people, but there is bugger all within 2kms of the actual structure. As I have said in my post, perhaps visiting for a big Schalke 06 game might change my mind, but I doubt it. Worth a visit, but I wouldn't go out of my way.

Beware the Stoney Boys

John the Dons 65th proved to be a boozy affair, although not in the same league as his 60th. King Dave was out and about, and Tony H showed his face, but disappeared without a bye or leave. Anyway, we got toasted. The Champagne flowed once the footy was finished, and the Shoutster made an appearance, and tried in vain to drag me and Queso off to the casino, the little tinker. All I know is if you get more than two Stoneys together, it gets messy, and at one point there was the full complement of four out. Stevie is still recovering. Our next shindig is on the 19th of July, when myself, Crspo and the loose canon Shouty, hook up with Jonesy to tackle the Westgate run in Wakefield.

UPDATE:
I have just received a text message from Tony Helmet, whose mysterious disappearance can now be put down to a case of the Munich's. He followed through on a fart. Buffoon points a plenty.