Ye be McStumped

Yarrgghh ye mollusc brained dunder heads, none of ye could McGuess where I be last week, even though I be leavin' plenty of McClues. McGsterr be comin' closest, as he did indeed gues that I be in Kentucky. I figure the McBourbon clue set him on his way, as I was indeed in Kentucky. The other McScraps to be had was the fact I be fryin' as in Kentucky Fried Chicken, and t'other be in me greatest trip, as in Muhammed "The Greatest" Ali, whose hometown of McLouisville I be weighing McAnchor. So this week not one but two doubloons be at stake, as I set sail for my next desdtination. This place not be easy to find, though I be visiting twice, first as six then as two, but it be a fine place to McWater ones thirst, and a fine port to boost. The McToilets smell fine, and the local wenches smell finer and it be McFamous for many things, yet one stands tall from the McRest. Me feeling is I will be McVisiting again, but it won't be as me main reason to go. It be a long way from the McWorst place I McBeen...

Where be MMMMMcEEEurooooo????????

Ou est le Dazzler?? Il a été trouvé!!

I was a bit down after our fine winning streak had come to an end last night, and with both Crespo and the Mercenary unavailable, there was nobody to have a consolation pint with. As I chugged up Bingley Road, making my way home, I had thought, "What if the Boy Dazzler is out?" Now the last few times I have called him, there has been no reply, and I had given him up as being on one of his hermit phases, as I had not had any contact with him since May. So imagine my surprise when he answered. Even better he was in a pub, one that was on my way home! I pulled up at the Kings Arms, and not only did he have a pint waiting, but he was with another chap that I hadn't seen in ages, the Spunky Monkey! It was grand to see to old friends, and the Dazzler was apologetic at first, he had been having loads of strife at work, but it was soon forgotten about. The reason we don't see so much of him, and he didn't get a season ticket, is because the company he works for has declared Saturdays as "Mega Day" and the poor lad has to work a ten hour shift, followed by a six hour day on Sundays! If I were him I'd have told them were to stick it, but it is his choice, and it pays the bills. Anyway, it is the Boy's birthday on the 27th of September, and he has wangled a weekend off, so he is up for a few beers. Unlucky for him, the Mighty Bantams are away that day, at Shrewsbury, which is to far for an away day. Still we can get pissed somewhere, when I he lets me know whats what, I will post the details.

Piss Up in a Brewery??

It is supposed to be one of the easiest things to do, and lets hope it's true, because brother Lefty has a plan. For those of you who don't know, the Leftster has an uncle who just happens to own the Saltaire Brewing company, a real life genuine brewery. And it also just happens that on the 20th of September, they are holding a beer festival, with bitters, ales and lager, plus some weird and wonderful brews we are yet to know of, and he as asked if I can get a few folk together to partake. "Is the Pope a Catholic?" I hear you cry. Well in fact he is, and yes I think I can rustle up a posse to represent the Bender Squad. It is also on the same day as a Bantams home game, against Bournemouth, so it promises to be a fine outing indeed.

Two Scoops Too Much

Well the sun shines on every dogs arse now and again, and the JMF will be enjoying their sun burnt keisters tonight. After weeks of having the smack down laid on them, the table were finally turned. The first half of the gamer was fairly evenly spread, but a calamitous effort between the sticks by a post menstrual JohhnyM saw the evil butt munchers take an advantage that was not only held, but extended from there on in, to finish in an eight goal victory. Late call up Two Scoops, relinquishing his previous retirement, belied the timber gained around his midriff, to put in an epic display. To be fair to the cock suckers of the MoFo, they all played a part, and took advantage of an Elite who faded badly in the final half. Shouty paid the price for his weekend, as expected, and Lefty had mislayed his shooting boots of recent weeks. As mentioned prior, big JohnnyM was wound up from the start, he mustn't be getting any at home or something. C'est la vie. One swallow does not make a slapper, and we are still in possession of a five game cushion, and with the both teams back to their original line ups next week, we will see if is the turning point for the JMF, or just a one off fluke by a bunch of retarded rent boys.

Line-ups;

JMF- Jamon, Luklear, Two Scoops, Young Gaz and Funky

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

2008 Season

• JMF wins -14



• Euro Elite - 19



• Draws - 0

Fadge or Vadge??

I have laid low on this subject over the last week or two, as after being shouted down by a bunch of in bred half wits in the City Vaults, I began to truly question whether I was actually in the wrong. Could these Yorkshire Hill Billys actually be right? Could a "Fadge" actually be the correct slang for a punanni, and not as I had previously thought an Irish potato cake?? Even Big JohnnyM had changed his tune, and departed to the fadge side. But I refuse to give up without a fight. El Grande Queso put me on the straight and narrow. "It's always been vadge!" he said, "What the fuck are those idiots on about?" And I agree. All the evidence points in my favour, yet I was cow towed by a bunch of people drinking in Bradford town centre, epicentre of the clueless. To try and iron out, once and for all who is right, I have stuck a poll in the bar to the left. Will the flat cap and whippet brigade prove correct? Or shall the well travelled men of the world put them in their place? Can we both be wrong, and be called out as being a bunch if illiterate heathens? Cast your vote, as only time will tell.

Oktoberfest 2009?

There is nothing like planning in advance, but a few Bender Squad members are making discreet enquires as to when we plan on returning to our very own Shangri-La, the Munich Oktoberfest. My very own 40th was deemed such a success, that everyone who came along last time, wondered as to when we could do it again. Well this year is out of the question, barring a jackpot win on the Euro Millions, so I have put out some tentative feelers for the 2009 shindig. If anybody plans on getting married around this time, or is approaching a milestone birthday, let me know, as this always helps smooth the way for members who are involved with the less understanding faction of the evil M.R.S. I know of one Squad associate who turns forty a month prior to the start date, but if it took us three years to get him paroled for a footie match, I would hate to think of the timescale required to secure his passage to our version of Valhalla.

Der Lowen Prop up League

Oh dear. The Lions have started the season off to the opposite tune of the Mighty Bantams, sinking to a 2-1 defeat at home to Mainz 05. They were behind as early as the eighth minute, and at half time were behind by two. An early response in the second half pulled Der Lowen back to within a goal, but at the end of play they found themselves occupying last place. It is only two games into the new season, so it is not quite panic stations yet, but the way we finished last season, combined with these to early setbacks, does not bode well. Of little consolation is Bayerns indifferent start to the season. They were lucky to glean a draw in Dortmund after being reduced to two men. Enough of those Leiderhosen lifters. On Saturday, me and Shouty took an executive decision, and have decided to visit Basel in late March, and catch a train to Munchen to watch 1860. The train ride out is an arse busting five and a half hours, but this is small fry compared to the seven and a half return leg. Still, I have priced it up at a very reasonable 174 Euros. The game in question is against Frankfurt 1899, or in early March there are the pirates of St Pauli in town. It is very much at the drawing board stage, but the germ of an idea has been planted.

Bantams 2 Dale 0, Plus Operation Jailbreak

Three out of three, and after seeing off a couple of the divisions lesser lights, it was good to watch us beat a team that is expected to be one of our main promotion rivals. It wasn't all plain sailing, they were the better team for the opening spell of the match, Lee and Clarke and were at their best to foil the Dale, we took control of the match with two headers from Thorne and Boulding, who in this league could well prove to be the difference if we are to achieve automatic promotion. Thorne might not be the quickest but his positioning and hold play were exemplary. Boulding is a live wire, with plenty of pace at this level, and bags of confidence. He was unlucky in the second half not to bag a second goal, hitting the inside of the post and then seeing it dribble along the line and back into play. Once again Omar was the man to get you out of your seat, skinning Rochadale's full back several times, although a bit of composure on his final pass is needed. With the good start to the season, it was good to see a good turn out from the lads, AKI had a good showing with his crew, and he even managed to do what was thought impossible. He secured safe passage on a day release for old school Bender Squad leg end Jamon. His tactics are to remain secret, we don't want to alert the royal Highness and dictator for life of Riddlesden to the fact that so many "undesirables " and "ne'er do wells" also visit fortress Valley Parade every other week. Hats off to the Akmeister, who has secured his role as shadow Foreign Secretary of the STN (Stop the Nonsense) party. Send him out to Georgia and Iraq, he will get it sorted.



Baz Watch: It is a shame to see, but the price of progress must be paid. As expected our follically challenged journey man was on the bench, having to make way for the deadly duo. With the match won, he was summoned for the last fifteen or so minutes. It wasn't good. You can see the poor lad trying just a bit to hard. Chill out Baz!! He spent to much time trying to convince the ref that he was being fouled, and it really did him no favours. Still I would never dream of sitting in the stands and bad mouthing him (You Shut Up!!! Helmet!), lets not forget we are not watching the upper echelons of the Champions League, and when we are up against the likes of Bury or Rotherham in deepest January on some pitch knee deep in mud, our Irish carthorse will come in handy. Still only gets 3/10.

Pie Rating: A joint effort this week. At half time the only pies on offer were meat and tattie, or steak and kidney, so I got some assistance on the final rating from this weeks guest reviewer (see below). It lost points straight away for being as hot as the earths molten lava core, but when it cooled down, and with the help of a generous dollop of Chop sauce, it weren't half bad. A little under stuffed, but what filling there was tasted pretty fine. This raised it's final rating from an initial 4 to an above average 6/10



Guest Reviewer: El Grande Queso stepped into the breech this week, and was given the task of rating the chips. First off the price. Two quid for a less than full tray lost it points on the value side, and the limpness of them was compounded by the fact that were barely warm. The Big Cheese was not impressed. A paltry 3/10



The rest of the evening was dedicated to the pursuit of inebriation, and at my age it comes a lot sooner than it used to. Being out with bingers of the magnitude of Helmet and Shouty brings it round even quicker. Shouty in particular was a nuisance. He was the last out, so he set up at the stupidest of paces, and Tony rose to the challenge. Me and Crespo hung on for dear life, but after being forced to drink a flaming Black Sambuca at midnight, I was toast. The other three headed off to Porky's (?????????), before leaving Shouty to his own devices at around 1:30 am. The next day hangovers were mostly shaken off, apart from Tony who had a couple mouth fulls of Sunday Lunch in the Prune before being sick and having to retire to his sofa for the rest of the day. I was out with Big Frank for a few Guinness, and Crespo was out on the lash with his missus. There has been no word from the Shoutster, but I think he may have earned himself a healthy dose of Buffoon points.

McLand Ho!!!

YYYYYYYYYYYYyyyyyyyyargghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!! Ye filthy bilge rats, it be I Captain McEuro, back from me travails sailing the seven seas to finding me McTreasures, and a hellacious journey it be. From the sweltering pits of Hades, to the freezing wastelands of the Nortern Lights, me journey has taken in all the dastardley sea could McThrow at me. To be sure, at my McAge it Mcbe a trip to far, so from this day hence I be requiring some McAssistance from the most able of McSeaman, me first mate McCrespo. But that be to follow in the McWeeks to come. To start ye all off this week on me greatest adventure, a devilish conundrum to fry the mind. I be leving some clues, in me McRamblings, it be up to ye to be McDeciphering the McScraps that be left fer ye, to try and McPart me from one of me McPreciuos doubloons. So all ye wart infested poop deckers, take a shot of gin or bourbon, and try to be McFigurin'.....

Where be MMMMcEEuroooooooo?????????

Righteous Stroll to Seven Goal Victory

Another week, another victory for the Righteous. It was pretty routine stuff, a bit of back and forth early on, as the JMF held on to a 4-4 draw, before a devastating burst of quality put the result beyond doubt. It is hard to put a finger on the current woes of the MoFo, but a lack of defending is costing them dear. Time and again they were caught short at the back, only an inspired display between the sticks early on from Lefty, stopped the Elite threatening a record score. Inspiration is needed to stop the Elite running away with the 2008 title, and we now hold a six game advantage, with the talismanic Dead Eye not due to return for at least another week. With Xmas eve and old years night both falling on Wednesday, I make it 17 more games left for the MoFo to turn it around. The clock is indeed ticking for the arse bandits.

Line-ups;

JMF- Jamon, Luklear, Lefty, Young Gaz and King Dave

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

2008 Season

• JMF wins -13



• Euro Elite - 19



• Draws - 0

Idiot!

To many schmokes and pancakes, you crazhy Englsh Fuckershs. What were the FA thinking ??

Der Lowen Lose Opener

As City get off to a flyer, TSV began less successfully, losing 2-1 away to Freiburg. This is the fixture me and the Shoutster had set our hearts on going to this season, due to it's close proximity to Basle, where we can get free digs, but financially it was not possible. From what I can make out with my below average German, it was one all at half time, before Ghvinianidze, one of TSV's centre half put through his own goal to hand the home team victory. looking at the team sheet, only Lars Bender started, his brother Sven coming on in the 62nd minute. Although disappointed, it is always nice to get a result in your first game, Freiburg did finish quite a ways above 1860 last season, so they will have started favourites. Better news from the DFB cup, the German equivalent to England's FA cup, where they advanced 2-0 against TSG Neustrelitz (??) last week. Goals from Benjamin Lauth (pictured) and Mustafa Kucukovic saw them through. The Bender twins were rested after turning out for the u-19 national team. Next up in the league is FSV Mainz 05, at home on Sunday.

Away Days

After our recent visit to the now demolished Maine Road, we once again go through the mists of time to a stadium that is no longer. Unlike Maine Road, this place wasn't fully demolished, as sections of it were listed, but it is now being developed into flats. It is Highbury, former home Arsenal. we visited back in early 2001, when they were still sponsored by Sega, who had the Dreamcast machine name on their shirts. We travelled down to see them take on the Mighty Bantams, in what was to prove to be their last season in the Premier League to date. We made our way down by train, playing chase the ace to pass the time, a game of pure luck, that Jamon managed not to win one game of during the two and a half hour trip. Of course we arrived, checked into our digs and took of to get well lubricated. Sandro wanted to go around Soho, so we jumped on a tube, and rocked up to the first pub, which turned out to be the Blue Oyster bar. How could we tell? The two blokes snogging at the bar was a dead give away. I had gone to the WC, and when I came back out there were some worried looking fellas, none more so than Ricky Driver. "We are in gay bar" he pointed out on my return, his back firmly welded to the wall. I looked around, and said "I have no problems, your the one with a moustache" which worried him even more. Jamon, not wanting to look like the country bumpkin from the provinces, decided to nonchalantly pick up a newspaper, and start to read it. Unfortunately for him, it was the Gay Times. Of course not everyone was put out by our situation. Funky was in full buffoon mode, and not only got a round in, but bought himself several bottles of poppers, more of which later. We swigged our beer, and found surroundings more too our taste. As game time approached we set off to the game, singing songs that caused the Transport Police to board the train and tell us to shut up. We also sang the same songs in the Gunner pub outside the ground, and found ourselves ejected, at which point Jamon tossed Funky over a wall. On to the reason for our trip the game. The ground was smack bang in the middle of a residential area, and from outside looked the dogs bollox, but the away end inside the stadium wasn't good. The view was shite, but the gooners gave a good account of themselves, singing "You will never play here again", which proved to be an accurate prediction. The first half saw both of the goals, as Arsenal dominated, and we went to check out the concession stand, where we found a pouting Funky. "What's up?" I asked. He then told me his tale of woe, how he was spotted on the CCTV with a bottle of poppers stuck up his nose, and the police had confiscated it. I tried to get it returned from the coppers who relieved him of it. "Can he have it back" said I. "No" said the bobby. "My mate wants his poppers back, and it is perfectly legal for him to have it" was my next gambit. "It becomes illegal when you stuff it up your nose" he replied, "and if your pal wants to come to the station with us, we have ample evidence on film of him breaking the law." Now I was pretty drunk by now, but not pissed enough to argue a lost cause such as this, and admitted defeat. After the game we took off into somewhere in the middle of London. Me and the Boy got lost looking for somewhere to get an after hours pint, and when we got back to the room found Jamon passed out with a piece of wood layed on top of him, which I decided to beat him with. Funky and Sandro decided to stay downtown, and ended up in some illegal drinking den, before getting lost on the way home, During their odyssey, Sandro managed to piss on a tramp, who turned out to be from Leeds. When he protested, a worse for wear San told him to "Get a job, helmet" as is his won't. The next day saw many thick heads, as we headed back to Bradford. Jamon didn't win a game of chase the ace on the way home either.

Statistics

• Capacity-38,419 at closure, had a peak of over 70,000
  
• Concessions-No Pies!!!!! I know we were down sarf, but still No Pies!!! Instead we were served up fried hockey pucks that bore no resemblance to the Burgers the were masquerading as. I think they sold beer, but I was to busy arguing with coppers to remember. Piss Poor.
• Built-1913
  
• Did You Know?-The tube station outside was the only one on the Underground network to be named after a football team.
  
• Visited By-Euro Bri, Jamon, Funky, King of the Pixies and the Boy Dazzler. Lobon had a broken foot and John the Don didn't go as he thought he was having a heart attack the night before.
  
• Rating-Mount Olympus-The food was shit, and the view from the away end was poor, but the place oozed history. The fronts of the East and West stands were/are magnificent (grade II listed), a long way from the anti-septic all purpose arenas of today, and inside the home fans made it feel like a proper footie stadium, even though it was a midweek match against Bradford City on a freezing January night. It is just a shame it couldn't be adapted to fit more folk in. It would be nice to compare it to it's shiny new replacement, but I don't see City returning, cup draws not withstanding, any time soon.
  

Big Ponces Kick Off

So the over payed foreign thespians finally kicked off their season, a week after everyone else, this weekend. It promises to be as dull as ever at the top of the table this year, as the usual four scrap it out till February, when Man U and Chelsea then ditch the Gunners and Liverpool, for their now annual shoot out to win the Permeirship. Ho Hum. And if that is not boring enough, the Ronaldo to Real, Barry to Liverpool sagas promised to put even the most hyper active, replica shirt wearing, knob head, glory hunter to sleep. Spurs and Villa will come close, Man City will implode, and Everton, Stoke and Bolton will play the worst football. Relegation? My picks are, Stoke and Hull, obviously, and hopefully Bolton and the God awful Gary Megson. After striving for years, they finally qualify for Europe, and then field a weakened team in the UEFA cup. What was the fucking point? Surprise teams for me are Fulham and 'Boro, and I fear Chelsea will finally mange to buy the champions league.

Left Pie-ning

Thanks to the suck ass job I have, I had to work Saturday, whilst Tony H and Crespo took off to Macclesfield to watch The Mighty Bantams play their first away game of the season. Wankers. To top it off, Peter Thone scored another brace, as the Silmen were downed 2-0. As for me, my first away game of the season looks like being the Darlingtongame on October the twentieth. Back to Saturday, the lads were good enough to do some ratings for me. As you would expect from a team that only attained league status eleven years ago, after being founded in 1874, the ground is about as garden shed as you can get. Crespos photos illustrate this beatifully. But all is not lost. The pies. Tony tucked into a steak and kidney, and it got an excellent 8/10. Very tasty was the prognosis, and we have a serious contender in our search for pie-topia, the best savoury pastry to be found at a footie stadium. On to the performance of the mighty Baz Conlon, our testosterone fuelled target man. As I feared in my report on the opening game of the season,Baz might find himself slipping down the pecking order, and it has come to pass. An unimpressive showing against the Terriers in mid-week (Crespos words not mine), saw him confined to the bench, as Boulding got the start. According to Crespo, with the game won, Baz was warming up to come on for the final ten or so minutes, when he took a swan dive, no one else was in the immediate vicinity, and injured himself. Oh dear. It earns our stubbled hero a massive -1/10, for being a noodle. This weekend we take on the Dale, a tough game that should indicate just how good we are. There is also a buzz that an unexpected Squad member could be granted parole to attend. Promises to be a good one.

Dream Team Eve

We have 20 teams registered for this years Bendership Title race, but there are only nine entrants. Lobon, Mercenary and Sprocket, where are you? You can still enter a team in the golden gamble faze over the next two weeks, but then thats it. So if your not in yet, pull your finger out, the PIN is 100505 and the password is pirates. Spread the word, and get as many as you can to sign up.

Sprockets Yorkshire Landmarks

Trying to think up nonsense to post on this blog is not as easy as you would think, and for a while I have been trying to think up threads that could be done by other members of the Squad. On Monday I had an idea. I had been fore warned the prior week, that a documentary series, charting an experiment in Castleford, was on Monday night on Channel 4. The series is asking weather a struggling ex-mining town, can be regenerated through a series of architectural set pieces in the town centre. The first up was a bridge across the river Aire. The programme was the usual, will they won't they, overcoming a series of problems that threaten it's existence to final triumph. Now it just so happens that we have a member who resides in this borough, so with no little haste well known fadge eater Sprocket was sent to see what the hub bub was all about. Of course he reported it was busy, all the folk who had seen it on the telly decided to show up and watch all the sewage from the upstream Bradford and Leeds flow beneath their feet. Sprocket said it was alright, and sent the following photos;


Notice on the first photo how he is preparing to sneak up on some old bird, and how snug that t-shirt is. The water is a lovely shade of shite as well. Can you see the rusting old boat in the picture fourth form top? Saying that though, the bridge does look pretty groovy. Little did Sprocket realise though that this would be his first mission, and I will be expecting a Yorkshire landmark every week, wether it be a brand spanking new bridge, or some greasy spoon that he likes.

Hobbled by Nefarious JMF

Sorry about the delay in posting Wednesdays match result, as I have been in agony, the reason why will become apparent further into the report. Things started off amicably enough down the Wood, the MoFo actually looked like giving us a game for a change, but they don't take kindly to losing (you would think they would be used to it by now), and when they found themselves in the hole by three goals, they reverted to type. A ludicrous penalty claim by Funky set the wheels in motion, he claimed Lefty had stepped out of his area, a full five minutes after he was supposed to have done it, and then spat his dummy out in an epic display of petulance, when I advised him to grow up. An edge began to creep into their play, as challenges became harder, but we continued to weather the storm, although I seemed to be singled out for "special" treatment, first from Tommo, he felled me after I had showed him a clean pair of heels ( he did confess his foul, although Funky tried to maintain that I had dived), and later, Jamon toe poked my ankle after the ball had gone back to the keeper. I gamely played on for five minutes, but was finally forced into goals for the last ten minutes. They tried to claim a goal that had hit the post (tip for the JMF, the ball needs to go BETWEEN the white upright sticks) and then tried some weird mind trick to try and convince us that a goal we had scored hadn't gone in. This trick was basically pretending it hadn't happened, then walking around with puzzled looks on their faces. Who gives a toss anyway. Stuffed by four goals, and they now trail the Righteous by five.

Line-ups;

JMF- Jamon, Tommo, Funky, Clogs and King Dave

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

2008 Season

• JMF wins -13



• Euro Elite - 18



• Draws - 0

Away Days-Plus a Pie

This week I have decided to take a short trip up the road to Huddersfield and the Galpharm Stadium, home of the Terriers, one of the Bantams bitterest rivals. It also ties in nicely with our search for the best footie grub, as Tony H and Crspo, along with big JB, last night went there to watch Huddersfield Town dump the Bantams out of the Carling cup, which is hardly surprising as Town have always been one of our bogey teams. The first time we went, two maybe three, years ago, was on a freezing cold day for an early kick off. The game was absolute garbage as well, both sides were lucky to get nil, in a mind numbing 0-0 draw. I can't remember much about the game, only trying to keep warm, but I had been there before to watch the Bulls play in a challenge cup semi final. The place is close enough to the town centre, with a couple of pubs pretty close by, but it is still a bit soulless, it has four stands that all like halved rugby balls, and well that's it really. If I was to look in the dictionary under "Charmless", I would in no way be surprised to see a picture of the Galpharm. The most memorable thing that occurred in Huddersfield the last time I visited, was being escorted on tho the train by the local coppers, because the Funky Messiah had found a piano, and was holding court as blasted pout a few tunes. It was also the night of Jamons downfall, possibly his last day of freedom, as he got busted for drink driving in the early hours. (After we had left him I might add). He has since been remanded under house arrest in Riddlesden Maximum Security Penitentiary. Myself, the Boy, Funky and Crespo somehow managed to end up in Ilkley, were Funky got beaten up for sticking his oar into a fight that had nothing to do with him. Happy days. Before I post my ratings though, back too Crespo and Helmet.

Pie Rating- From what I can gather, Tony was left to brave the Terrier concessions, and decided upon something called a Yorkshire Pudding Wrap. 10/10 for originality, as I have never in my 40 years on this green planet of ours come across such a delicacy. But was it any good? Did it taste as delightful as it sounds? Well I don't really know, as i have received mixed messages from our intrepid City fans. In his customary blunt style, I received a text from Helmet that contained the solitary number 4. I was puzzled as to what he meant at first. Was it the number of goals the Terriers scored? Or was it judgment on the wrap that I was yet to know he had scarfed? To make matters even more complicated, I opened this text message from Crespo, with the picture posted below, claiming to score it as a 6.5/10. I will get to the bottom of the mystery now. Just got off the blower to Tony, and it is a 6.5. The filling was good, beef and onion gravy, wrapped in a Yorkshire Pudd, which was a bit crispy for our Tone's liking. It appears him and Crespo may be headed to Macclesfield Town on Saturday, so expect another pie-lema, as Helmet tries to choose a worthy option. 6.5/10


Statistics

• Capacity-24,400
  
• Concessions-See "Pie Rating" above
  
• Did You Know?-The Manging Director of the stadium is called Ralph Rimmer.
  
• Visited By-Euro Bri, Jamon, the Boy Dazzler, Crespo, Tony H, Funky and Shouty
  
• Rating-Garden Shed- Looks like it has been built of Lego, and did you expect me to give the home of Huddersfield Town anything else?
  

Dream Team Time

If you haven't signed up for the annual Bendership dream team challenge, pull your finger out, as the Premier League kicks off on Saturday. There are unlimited transfers right up until midnight Friday, so there is no excuse for waiting till the last minute. If you miss the start of proceedings, you can join up after the start, but will miss out on valuable points. Anybody who needs password and PIN for joining please contact me. Invite as many folk as possible, the more the merrier.

Bantams 2 Magpies 1

Sorry about the delay, but I had the hangover from Hell yesterday. On to the day out. Unlike last year, the day started grey and wet, as we all met up in the Beehive to shake off our hangovers and have a few pints. This year we had two new comers, Meatball and Tony H joined us. It wasn't only the weather however that was poor. I love the Beehive, it has bags of character, and is the perfect setting to set off to watch lower league footie, but the service was abysmal. It took Shouty ages to get served, and Helmet was left speechless at the way the bird behind the bar pulled a pint, refusing to pay for it, and asking for a different brand. So we headed down Lumb Lane to the old Barracks bar, or what ever itis called now. It was a lot livelier, and everyone was optimistic for the season. Except Aki, who looked a pale imitation of himself, as he nursed a Lucozade. After the seats fiasco, Crespo took off with Tony to one end of the stand, as me, meatball and Shouty took off for the other. The first half was pretty much all City, and Omar was playing up a storm down the flanks. He broke free first, and had a shot smartly saved by the County keeper, before playing in big Baz, who managed to foul himself, when he would have been clean through on goal. It was a poachers goal, scored with a bit of luck that broke the deadlock, as Thorne managed to divert a cross shot into the net. They all count. There were more chances, including a goal mouth scramble, when half the City line up took turns at missing an open goal. The second half started out the same, once again Daley was tormenting the Magpies, at one point he skinned three players as he ran the length of the pitch, to have a low shot diverted wide by the keeper. This led to a corner, which was poorly cleared by a County defender, leaving Thorne to notch up his second with a wonderfully executed scissor kick. Things were going along nicely, but this being the Bantams, we had to give our opponents a sniff of a result, after allowing them to sneak in a goal with fifteen minutes left, to set up the usual tense finish. It still annoys me though to listen to people slag off Daley. He is a genuine threat at this level, and when he play like he did on Saturday, scares the shit out of opponents. So he doesn't track back all the time, and he can run into blind alleys, but he carries four times more threat and penetration, than the strangely lauded Colbeck. Go figure. Good performances as well from the new signings, in particular Lee, who looked excellent at the back, and the central midfield pairing of Bullock and McLaren looked formidable. Boulding had a lively run out for the last ten or so minutes. Happy days indeed, lets hope they last.

Baz Watch-Not his finest game by a margin. Looked mean and lean at kick off, but apart from one salmon like leap, was not up to much. He was one of a host of players who contived to miss an open goal in a scramble, but when he tripped over his own feet, when put through on goal summed up his outing. Should have won a penalty after a blatant barge in the area. Ikey reckoned his poor performance was down to the fact he was wearing black boots, not his customary white one's. If Boulding's cameo is anything to go by, Bazza will be gathering plenty of splinters in his keister this season. 4/10

Pie Rating- A new season, a new range of succulent pies! I wish... Same choice, same maker. Served at a nuclear meltdown temperature, stuffed with bland filling. I think it was supposed to be meat and potato. Saving grace was the lovely Chop Sauce, that you only seem to be able to get at Valley Parade. This earned it an extra point. 6/10

Guest Rating- This year, in the interests of balance and fairness, I will be presenting a guest concession critic every week. It will probably be mostly Shouty, as Crespo isn't stupid enough to eat at the stadium, and nobody else really goes. Anyway, after Ike gave the Hot Dogs a massive 100/10, Shouty figured it was time for somebody older than eight to pass judgement. Bun was too dry, ketchup to runny, and he prefers his pork attached to a pair of testicles. 6/10

Hopefully Crespo will provide us with a pie rating when he visits Huddersfield Town on Tuesday. If he doesn't, I am sure JB will. After the match we hit town, apart from from Shouty who was called off on Daddy duty. I last saw Helmet at around 00:30. I think. It was my last memory, until the Elster woke me up, while I was pissing into a waste paper bin at home. As you can imagine, I was not the most popular fella in Clayton on Sunday. More worrying for me is the amount of people in West Yorkshire, who think Fadge is a universally accepted term for pussy. Every where I went I was told I was an idiot and it was Fadge. I just hope none of these people ever go to Ireland, where they are bound to be seriously disappointed.

It's Bazza Time!!

This pitiful excuse of a summer enters its last month, and yes it's raining, but there is a ray iof sunshine. The Mighty bantams kick off their 2008/9 campaign today against Notts County. Big Baz has been fed on raw steak and stout over the summer break, and looks a deadly goal poaching machine. He will be struggling to keep his place though, as City have signed up Michaeal Boulding, and as much as I love the Bazmeister, Boulding is a better goal scorer. So my predictions for the season, starting in League Two. All the bookmakers make the Bantams favourite, and I am no different. Good solid signings, and the board say there is money spend if we need to strengthen. I see our main challengers to automatic promotion as Chesterfield, Rochdale and Shrewsbury, with Brentford as dark horses. in the league above, as much as it pains me to say it, I think Leeds will be the team to beat, with Leicester running them close. Scunthorpe will make the playoffs, with Carlisle being there or abouts. Cheltenhamn will finally get relegated. In the Championship, Birmingham look the strongest team, and Paul Jewel will get Derby into the playoffs at least along with the Blades. Southampton, Norwich and Donny Rovers to be the surprise teams that round off the playoffs. Sheffield Wednesday and Blackpool are my picks to join City in league one. As for today, I recon 3-0 to the Bantams.

JMF Continue to Lose Ground

A blistering start from the Righteous, buried to MoFo last night, although they made a valiant fist of it to reach respectability. With the game barely started, a shell shocked JMF were rocked by an early goal blitz, thanks to myself and a resurgent Lefty Van Nistleroy, that left with a eight goal deficit by the time of the first keeper change. When this lead was lengthened to double figures there was a mass falling out amongst the shirt lifters, although to their credit they didn't give in. As the previous weekends debauchery took it's toll on the Shoutster, and the goal machine that goes by the name Lefty, succumbed to blisters, the MoFo began to chip away at our massive advantage, a sterling effort by the Mercenary (who was loaned out to balance out the teams), who usually can't hit a cows backside with a banjo when he plays for us, was the bedrock of their miraculous recovery. But then again, they do love to cum from behind. In the end they whittled a ten goal deficit down to two, but it was all in vain. Jamon tried to claim the moral high ground after, claiming we were only better for 15 minutes, but when reminded of how fantastic we were for that quarter of an hour, soon shut up. My how they cry...

Line-ups;

JMF- Jamon, Mercenary, Funky, Lukelear and King Dave

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

2008 Season

• JMF wins -13



• Euro Elite - 17



• Draws - 0

Meatball Quest

Me and the Mercenary had tickets for the new Batman movie, and I arranged to meet in him in the Sir Titus Salt, a J.D.Wetherspoons bar across the road from the IMAX screen at the National Media Museum in Bradford town centre. I got there plenty early, so I could try the latest addition to their menu, the Meatball Marinara on Ciabatta sandwich. I got an ice cold Coors, chilled to -2.9, according to the digital reader above the pump, and ordered. A big thanks to Sprocket for in forming of this new delicacy. It was priced at a very reasonable (for England anyway) £3.99, and came with chunky fries. The meatballs were of a similar size to the ones on offer at Subway, and there was plenty of them stuffed into an approx. eight inch ciabatta. The bread was good, and I liked the way the cheese was left to melt over the meatballs, but it was too light on marinara sauce. This meant it was a little on the dry side. The Mballs were tasty enough, but I thought they could of done with a little more of a kick, spice wise. The ciabatta was a good alternative to the usual submarine style. Better than Subways? I am afraid not, and as for the Candia, it would be like comparing Huddersfield Town to Manchester United. Don't be too put off, it was nothing like the abomination of the McMeatball deli sandwich of 2007, but I would recommend the Meatball Pannini served at Costa Coffee, which is a similar price, over it. Worth trying again.

P.S. I am waiting for a new phone at the moment, so apologies that I haven't got a picture to post.

P.P.S The Batman movie was very good, but too long. Every time it gets going, it slows right down, and the after over two and half hours, they tie everything up far too quickly. Heath Ledger is very good as the Joker, but the guy who plays Harvey "Two Faces" Dent is garbage. I'd give it 7/10.

F or V?

I arrived home tonight to find an e-mail from Sprocket, continuing our discussions on the Fadge or Vadge thread. It seems he thinks be unearthing THREE whole websites that back up his fadge claim, he believes this entitles him to claim victory. I attach below the e-mail I sent in response to his preposterous claim;

Dear Idiot,

How can you convince yourself that you have got the better of me concerning our ongoing discussions on the fadge vs. vadge question. Yes you have scoured the Internet, for days no doubt, to unearth a mere three references to the term Fadge being used to describe a pussy. Yet in a recent phone call you did indeed agree that a google search for the word "Vadge" resulted in a plethora of references to hairy pie. You also failed to make any mention of finding an image result that backed up your ludicrous claim, that the word fadge, is indeed a universally accepted term for putang. I have canvassed more worldly men than yourself, ie El Grande Queso and JohnnyM, and they wholly agree that vadge is an internationally recognised word for a tuna taco. At this juncture I am more than happy to accept a grovelling apology, and promise to be gallant in victory. I would however suggest that yourself, and your hilly billy mates from within the boundaries of Castleford, Shipley and Wibsey, break free of your rural backwaters and get out and broaden your horizons in the wider world.

Your Welcome,

European Bri

I would like at this juncture like to hold out an olive branch to Sprocket, and provide this link for a recipe, so he can enjoy as much "Fadge" as he can fit into his rather large gob. Be gosh, and indeed Be Gorrah.

Recipe for Irish Fadge

F or V?

An arguement has broken out amongst various members of the Bender Squad over a slang word for a pussy. It began between me and Sprocket over a name for a stupid five a side team we are due to play for, called the Vadge Kissers. He reckons I am some American idiot who has got it totally wrong, and the way it is spelt and pronounced is "Fadge" as it refers to a fanny, while I claim it is "Vadge" after vagina. So far he has more people agreeing with him, such as Shouty, Paddy Mac, the Elster, Crespo, G Spot(who both keep changing their minds) and most of the Saltaire posse. But they are all idiots from the backwaters of West Yorkshire. So far I have only got Big JohnnyM and a couple of passing strangers from outside Lloyds in Centeneray Square. I have googled fadge, and the first entry is for an online dictionary which gives its meaning thus;

v. i.	1.	To fit; to suit; to agree. They shall be made, spite of antipathy, to fadge together. - Milton. Well, Sir, how fadges the new design ? - Wycherley.
n.	1.	A small flat loaf or thick cake; also, a fagot.

No mention of punnani there. The second result is for an Irish potato cake recipe. Page after page without reference to curly pie. There is a Fadge fest, and some geezer who even goes by the name fadge. I even tried spelling it "Fage", which if you didn't know before, is a Greek yogurt. Of course when you type in the word "Vadge" in your google search, there is plenty of mentions, the first being a site called Urban Dictionary, which explains that a vadge badge is a tattoo near the vadge area, and the third search result is one showing off Brittany Spears vadge. As you can imagine when you do an image search for vadge, there is a slew of pussy pictures. Do you know what the first image you get for an image search of "fadge is? Check out below;



That's right, a photo of an Irish potato cake. Going to Dublin soon, can't wait to get my mouth round all that Fadge! Certainly looks tastier than vadge.

The Quest has a New Challenger

There is an official challenger to the meatball crown worn by the Cafe Candia. Saturday night was the Shoutsters birthday, so after a few beers in town we headed to Guiseppe's for some chow, and this time they rustled us up some meatballs. They were a good size, lovely texture, and with a powerful spicy kick. I had mine with penne pasta, and I have to say, they were beautiful. I have had them here before, but I don't if they have a new chef, but they were a little nicer than the last time I visited, down to the extra spice I reckon. But are they better than the Candia? If truth be told, I can't split them. I may ha e to call in a secondary opinion from fellow meatball fancier Sprocket. I am leaning slightly towards the greasy spoon on Legrams Lane, but that could be misplaced loyalty, as I usually go at least once a week. But the Quest has defiantly heated up. The afore mentioned Sprocket has informed me that Wetherspoons have added a meatball marinara ciabatta sandwich, which I will be sampling tomorrow when I meet up with the Mercenary before seeing the new Batman flick. Lefty has also pointed out that his old man runs an Italian restaurant in Guisely, so a plan is being put together for a mini bender to check it out. As for the rest of Saturday night? After a few beers at Lloyds and somewhere up the "West End" of Bradford, me and Lefty took off to the Casino at around 12:30, thinking the rest would catch up in half an hour or so. We got a free ten pound bet each, which we blew on the roulette straight away. Lefty seemed to be on a mission, so I went for a beer, and started watching the highlights from the cricket. Went to find the Leftster, but he was no where to be seen, instead I found Meatball. Spoke to him for a minute, went for a piss and another beer and lost him as well. I hung around for a bit, tried to call Crespo didn't answer, so rang a cab, which I nearly missed as some pissed up knobhead kept trying to get in the back and take his pants off. After being told to "Fuck off", it was homeward bound, where today I blew up the lawn mower.

P.S.
Is it just me, or is Bradford city centre full nof Heifers on a Saturday night? Not all of them were chubby, but a high percentage were. And I think we discovered the chaviest bar in England. It had no name, the toilet was backed up, the clientele ranged from 14 year old alco-poppers to a geezer who must have been at least 65 with an ancient deer stalker on his heed, throwing shapes to the most God awful happy hardcore shite ever to assault one's ears. And a bird so fat, that she had to stop and sit down to catch her breath after walking literally five metres. Needles to say we only stayed for one.