Gender or Bender? Munich....

Well TSV 1860's progress in the German equivalent of the FA Cup was terminated by Hamburg SV on Tuesday night, three goals to one, but it was expected. But this got me thinking about posting a new "Gender or Bender" post, of which I haven't done for a spell. So, to get back on track with it's weekly posting, we take a trip to the capital of Bavaria, to discover whether its a destination for skipping or gipping.

Price- I visited during the world famous Oktoberfest, so you would expect to get a bit of a rinsing, but accommodation apart, it was very reasonable. If they had something akin to this festival in the UK, you just know that your pants would be thrust round your ankles at every opportunity, but our German cousins seem to have a fairer attitude to these kind of things. A stein would set you back about €6, which at the time was very reasonable, equating to about a fiver for a litre of top notch beer. Of course, as you are all probably aware, Sterling has taken a nose dive, so it isn't going to be the value it was a year ago, but in comparison to the likes of Holland, Ireland and France, I still think it rates as good value. The same goes for the grub, and the local transport system, very affordable. 5/10

People- What isn't there to love about the people who celebrate binge drinking for two whole weeks? Being drunk is not just accepted, but it is expected. Word to the wise for all you half pint Heroes though, the local Feds are tooled up and ready to go, so I would ward against any scrapping. Around the Festival site, legions of people can be found sleeping off the afternoons excess, in readiness for more of the same in the evening. If this weren't enough, the fit bird quota is sky high, and they enjoy dressing in local costume, which gets their breast shoved up nicely to eye level. In the City itself, the beer hall rules. They get rather busy, so you get sat where ever there is a space. My self and Funky, both lashed up to the hilt, found ourselves sat with a very friendly Bavarian family, who were very nice. This after a gang of grannies helped us find our U-Bahn train when hopelessly lost. Even the bouncers are helpful. When a pissed up Shouty and Crespo tried to gain entrance to an expensive Gentleman's club, the doorman asked what they were after. "I just wanna see some tits and arse!" slurred the Right Honourable. "I do not think this is ze place for you, it is €50 a drink" and pointed them in the opposite direction. I really can't find fault. 10/10

Stuff- "So all there is to do is drink" I hear you say, and you do have a point. I have no doubt there are many fine galleries, theatres and opera houses, but it is not the reason why you would visit. It is home to Bayern Mynchen, the Manchester United of Germany, but I would recommend a TSV 1860 match over them any day. No tourists (our selves excepted), just loads of locals out for the crack. A good tip as well, is to wear some TSV merchandise when trying to get into one of the big tents at the O'fest, as the guys who determine whether you get a seat or not, are more than likely Lowen fans themselves. There are excursions to the Alps and what not, but who cares when your at beer central? 7/10

Reputation- Superb. Anybody who has been will tell you it is brilliant, and not just those for the beer fest. As a European city, this to beer what Amsterdam is to hash. It was a dream to visit for years, and it didn't disappoint. 10/10

Intrigue- Right up there. I am sorry to harp on about the Octoberfest, yet again, but it is the worlds biggest party, 6 million revellers will visit during the two weeks it is on. Even when it isn't on, there a beer halls galore, including the world renowned Hofbräuhaus’, and several others of equal, if not higher calibre. The Löwenbräukeller near Stiglmaierplatz, is also an exceptional place to quaff a brewski. If I were to put together a plan, and I am trying to as we speak, everybody would jump at the chance. Of course, with the economy in its current downward spiral, affording it is another kettle of fish. A must do, before one dies. 10/10

Verdict- 42/50 Are you kidding!! Drinking schnapps with the chaps...............BENDER

I Wanna be your Insurance Salesman?

Doesn't have the same ring as "I wanna be your dog" does it? But the self proclaimed "Godfather of Punk" can be seen all over the television trying to persuade us to get our car insured at Swiftcover. What were they thinking? It's bad enough that a huge majority of folk will have no idea who Mr Pop is, but even if you did, why would you trust a reformed smack head, who has a penchant for cutting himself with a razor and exposing his hampton whilst performing on stage? Did they think the sight of a bare chested 60 year old would have us diving for the phone to change our home and contets insurer? Maybe they thought we might be hypnotised by his shrivelled and sagging man boobs? Most bizarre indeed.

Double Celebration

Not one, but two Squad members celebrate a birthday this weekend. First up is young Crespo, on Saturday. Our plans? Watch the Bantams take on the Mariners, the City Vaults and on to Headingley. Times are tight, but what the Hell, Gordon Brown wants us to spend like there's no tomorrow, and I aim to follow his lead. If he can throw a couple of Billion quid at the car industry, I am sure I can manage to toss a pony at the good publicans of LS6. Even Sprocket is considering a trip over. If my hangover isn't too rough, I plan on having a hair of the dog for the ever young Helmet, who catches up to me age wise, on the Sunday. Funky and Mad Ad are about, and we are hoping to get them out of Wilsden. For a change we are thinking about hitting an old Bradford institution, the Fighting Cock, for a few German lagers and the football. After that I should be flat broke until the end of February. It is better to burn out than fade away, as the saying goes.

Arrogant Jamon Eats Words

Oh you should have heard them. Pror to the match they asked if we wanted the wall, a three goal head start perhaps, or even screw the game, the results a foregone conclusion so lets just go and have a few beers instead. The mighty Elite refused to rise to JMF bait, and the game got under way. A quick strike for Euro boys was soon rubbed out as the shirt lifters opened up a two goal lead. But that was the end of that. Clogs lit a fire under Two Scoops arse, chewing him out for taking unnecessary shots when a pass was the logical move. He swore, got his knickers in a twist, conceded a goal, and then went on the rampage. For the next half hour, everything the boy hit flew in. Left foot, right foot, everything found the back of the onion bag. This rubbed of on the usually profligate Doctor Shotgun. Not to be out done, he fired in several, the pick being the one he rifled off an adjacent wall, rebounding it perfectly past the keeper. I even got in on the act, frozen verruca and all, as the righteous plowed on, racking up a 13 goal cushion, before we finally put the brakes on, finally settling for an eleven goal victory. The cock munchers bleated on how it wasn't their night, we were lucky, and even in a sure sign of desperation called "Next goal wins!", but the fact remains they were well and truly stuffed. Bring on next week.

Line-ups;

JMF- Jamon, Young Gaz, Lukelear, Funky and Dead Eye

EURO E- Shouty, Two Scoops, Clogs, Euro Bri and Dr Shotgun

2009 Season

• JMF wins - 2



• Euro Elite - 1



• Draws - 0

Euros frozen verruca proved too much for the JMF

Shakers 1 Bantams 0

Our mediocre run continues, and for the first time this season we find ourselves outside of the playoff places. The game was a throwback to dark times, for some unfathomable reason we resorted to the log ball game almost from the off. The pairing of Jones with Conlon upfront was baffling to say the least, they spent much of the game chasing the same ball. Out wide Daley was played on the wrong flank, and Law was played wide right, a strange decision considering his recent from in the middle. But what was the point of the midfield? Clarke, Lee, Arniston and Rehman treat the ball like a hand grenade and pumped it aimlessly skyward all evening. I have read on the message boards of the local newspaper everybody slagging of McLaren and Daley, but the ball bypassed them time and again. Even more worrying is the total lack of cohesion at set plays. What do they get up to on the training pitch? I know McCall is a bit green as a manger, but with the business end of the season fast approaching, now is not the time to be experimenting with formation and personnel. We didn't look to have any kind of idea upfront till the introduction of Boulding, after we had gone a goal down, and there was only 10 minutes remaining. Is it a coincidence that at was in this period of time we created our best chances? I am not one who is going to call for McCall to be sacked, at this juncture of the season it would ridiculous, but he needs to start exercising some common sense. Wingers as strikers? Your best central midfielder on the right? Two proven goal scorers on the bench? Strange choices.

As for Bury, they play nice little triangles, but lack any cutting edge. We fell into the trap of playing exactly the way they wanted us to, and their two Leviathan centre halves won everything in the air. A workman like team such as these should not be looking down the table from the comfort of four point cushion. We need to start stringing some results together ASAP, and wasting our best players by adopting the big hoof upfront is not the way to achieve this.

Baz Watch- Noit good I am afraid. Everything our smooth headed Gaelic forward touched turned to mush. He had at least three gilt edged chances, and spurned the lot. What made it worse is the fact all missed the target. His gargantuan marker had him pretty much in his pocket all night. As usual he will bare the brunt of the supporters blame, but to single either himself or Daley for special attention seems a tad harsh considering the performance of the whole team. I fear the substitutes bench beckons. 3/10

Pie Rating- We were deep into Lancashire, pie country, and expectations were high. At first these expectations seemed to be ill founded, at the beginning of the match they only had Cornish pasties, but by half time, fellow supporters were spotted scarfing pies, so I braved the concession stand once more. Steak or Balti was the choice, and being of the old skool (I believe this is the way you are expected to spell school when using it in this context) I plumped for the steak. Which turned out to be steak AND kidney, a fact that dismayed my travelling companion, the good Dr Shotgun, no end. We both found the pasty to be of a high standard taste and filling wise, but it was small, and a bit pricey. The steak and kidney, from my view, was excellent. Choc full of filling, the perfect serving temperature and finished off with Chop sauce (yes they also use the mighty Hammonds). Even Shotgun thought it good, although he has a loathing of Kidney, and refutes the fact that it puts hairs on your chest as an old wives fish tale. The ratings are as below.

Euro Bri;
Pasty 6/10
Steak and Kidney 8/10

Dr Shotgun;
Pasty 6.5/10
Steak and Kidney 6/10

January...the Never Ending Manth

Will it ever end? The month after Christmas is long, cold, and a time of great skintness. No wonder the years most depressing day falls mid way through it. At first it seems alright, New years Eve is over and done with, and things start to get back to normality. But then you look at your bank balance and "POW" there is 'nowt there! I also have one of the bambinos birthdays to stump up for, and that about finishes me off. Even going to the footie is rubbish, because you freeze your keister off, and then all your mates take off home, as they are in the same financial mess you find your self in. Hell, I haven't seen Helmet fro over a month. Thankfully January grip is slowly loosening, and next weekend sees it's demise for another year. Pay day is upon those who are re numerated monthly, and i for one am ready for a blow out. Thankfully there is help at hand, as brother Crespo celebrates his birthday this upcoming weekend. City are at home, we are meeting in the City Vaults after, and then off to Headingley, if everything goes to plan. A few of us are also off to see the bantams take on the Shakers on Tuesday, for an Away Day. It is deep in pie territory, ie Lancashire, so I am expecting a memorable pastry. Hopefully these sojourns will shake off my recent torpor, and I can resume getting more posts on both this blog, and the fledgling Stop the Nonsense sight. Bring on February.

No Need to Panic....Yet

Strewth, another beating. In the end it was only by four, but at the half way point we were in a hole big time. The game started out bad for us, Young Gaz and Dead Eye running up a seven goals before we even replied. Luke, Jamon and Dr Shotgun, making a one off appearance on the side of the JMF, shored up the defence, and we were on a hiding to nothing. Two Scoops summed up our fist half, when he made to break from the edge of his own area, only to forget the ball, teeing it up nicely for Dead Eye to smash home. He was by no means the only offender, myself, Clogs, Shouty and the Mercenary doing more than our own fair share cock ups and bloopers to give away what seemed an endless supply of goals. But there are signs of improvement. We never gave up, and for the last twenty minutes actually ran the MoFo ragged, pulling back a ten goal deficit to a mere four. With a little bit more luck, we rattled the goal frame six times, we might have dug out at least a draw, but the result was in all honesty, and it really pains me to say it, the right one. The big worry for us is the form of Young Gaz, who is scoring at will. He is covering for an infirm King Dave, who is out for at least 12 weeks, and not expected back until at least the end of March. It is early doors yet, mind, and if he keeps up this form, I just might forget to pick him up. 2-0 to the shirt lifters.

Line-ups;

JMF- Jamon, Young Gaz, Lukelear, Dr Shotgun and Dead Eye

EURO E- Shouty, Two Scoops, Clogs, Euro Bri and The Mercenary

2009 Season

• JMF wins - 2



• Euro Elite - 0



• Draws - 0

Baz Stalker

I always thought Super Barry Conlon was kept caged between matches, fed on the raw carcass of fresh slaughtered wild boar between matches, but I was seriously mistaken. He in fact shops at ASDA. How do I know this? Well Shouty senior, aka Big Phil, was doing his weekly shopping at a branch of the malevolent federation, when he spotted a young stunner doing her shopping. He gave her the once over, and was considering his opening chat up line, when her partner strode into view. He was tall, bald, and kept missing his trolley as he tried to put his purchases in. It was none other than the mighty Bazmeister himself. "You all right Barry?" enquired Big Phil. "To be sure" our leg end replied in a soft Irish brogue. I am slightly disappointed he buys his grub in a supermarket, as I always figured he chased down live bulls in a field for his meat, rendering them immobile with nothing more than a rusty spoon, but at least he has a fit bird. Go on Baz! The picture below is off Big Phil, Baz and Matt Clarke at the player of the year function last year.

The cardigans are a little bit gay, but I dare YOU to tell them!

Bantams 1 Stanley 1

Didn't get into the ground in time to see City go behind, couldn't find a parking spot, but the rest of the first half was pretty much all Bantam traffic. The problem was, every time we carved out an opening, or seemed ready to pull the trigger, an Accrington boot, or in one case what seemed a definite hand, got in the way. So after steadying ourselves with a pie and a pint at half time, we were expecting better, and as usual, particularly when we play teams at home which we are expected to beat, were sorely disappointed. Nicky Law set up our equaliser, and that was about it. Daley ran around, but to no real effect, and there was a a couple of chances at the death, which the on loan O'Grady selfishly wasted, when he shot instead of passing to colleagues in a better position. Our main rivals, bar Brentford failed to capitalise on our dropped home points, but we still slipped to fourth in the table, with a few teams holding a game in hand. Performances will need to improve if we are to push for an automatic return to League 1. Next up Luton away.

Baz Watch- On from the beginning, our aerodynamic front man was his usual willing self. Of course this didn't mean he was any good, but was no worse than most of his team mates. Re deemed himself in the second half, when he smashed in the equaliser from all of two feet, after good work by Law. Strangely substituted after 66 minutes for O'Grady who appears to be a more sluggish version of our Irish hero. 6/10

Pie Rating- Finally we have a new guest reviewer, as Dr Shotgun made his first foray of the season down to Valley Parade. His choice of sustenance was the ever popular Meat and Potato, usually an above average performer. But the good Doctor must have got the runt of pie litter. It was soggy, and upon first bite, seeped out water and undercooked filling. He was not impressed. At all. 3/10

Oktoberfest '09?

Winter blues getting you down? Credit crunch beginning to bite? Put your troubles behind you, and stuff 'em all, take a jaunt to Munich, home the world renowned Oktoberfest, and drink your problems away!

Well that's the idea anyway, and the Good Lord loves a trier. We had such a good time in 2007, it was agreed that a return trip was a must, and with the gloomy forecast for 2009, when better? Of course I won't be able to book everyone on my credit card this time, my limits are being squeezed as I post this, but I am sure a bunch of world weary geezers such as ourselves could co-ordinate a sojourn between us. The dates are Friday the 25th of September till Monday the 28th. Flights out of Manchester via Heathrow are currently going for around £220, or from Leeds/Bradford through Amsterdam for £250. Hotels are coming up for between €500 to €700, and are selling fast. If there are to be a few of us partaking, the likelihood of us all getting accommodation at the same flea pit are scarce. So, the order of the day is speed. If we leave it much later than the first week of February, I can see us having to pay top dollar for digs. Time is of the essence my compadres.

Spanked

Now that was a beatin'. After last weeks false start, the 2009 Wood Cup finally got under way. King Dave was still unfit, and Funky was away in the Canary Islands, so there were two replacements. Young Gaz and Clogs filled in, giving the lady dodgers a definite advantage in personnel. I was struck down by a bad case of man flu, and it was the first time Crepo had been able to play for while, so the euro boys were at a distinct disadvantage from the off. Of course this does not totally excuse the ineptitude of our performance, as Dead Eye, Luklear, Jamon, Clogs and especially Young Gaz ran amok. We were stuffed by about 15 goals, but towards the end the were just taking the piss. Shouty ran himself ragged, and the good Doctor was in the zone for us scoring the majority of our goals, one in particular, a sweet flick and turn warrants mention. of course he missed a penalty though. But even his goal was put in the shade by the rocket scored by Gaz, on the volley from inside his own half. It will take some beating in the goal of the year competition. So the MoFo find themselves in a position they have not manged since midway through the 2007 campaign. They are in the lead, by a game to nil On the upside for the Elite, I wouldn't think it possible for us to be so poor again.

Line-ups;

JMF- Jamon, Young Gaz, Lukelear, Clogs and Dead Eye

EURO E- Shouty, Two Scoops, Crespo, Euro Bri and Dr Shotgun

2009 Season

• JMF wins - 1



• Euro Elite - 0



• Draws - 0

Crespo Where's Yer Troosers

Well that was easier than expected. It took two searches, and there he was, resplendent in formal wedding wear. But what was that I spied? Highland apparel? Could it the the elusive McCrespo? Indeed it could! Doesn't he look scrumptious in his pretty powder blue tartan kilt? And what is he keeping in his Sporran? And what about those cute little ties around his stockings? Bless his little heart.

The Jamon Celeste

The fall of a Bender Squad member is a sad thing, and over the years there have been a few casualties claimed by the nefarious M.R.S., but none has been quite as spectacular, or lamented, as the former high ranking member that was Jamon. The inaugural recipient of the prestigious Maillot Jaune, he was expected to retain a high profile as one of the pioneering members throughout the rest of his life. But a few years ago he disappeared. Yes there are glimpses of the shadow he has become every other Wednesday down the Wood, but no one has seen or heard from him outside this sanctuary for years (apart from once when Aki dragged him out). I am often asked what he is doing, to which I shrug, and stare off into the distance, remembering times gone past. But the ever eagle eyed McMercenary has spotted him. Perusing the local newspaper, he happened across this photograph, taken at a local hospice for the elderly;

If you look at the back you will make out a fruity character, sucking in his cheeks to make his face look slimmer. Pity the double chin ruins the effect. So it would appear jamon has moved on from rent boys, and acquired a penchant for the more mature lady. I hope Crepo has kept that copy of 60 up for him.

Speaking of which, the photo of McCrespo, sporting a full kilt and sporran ensemble, is some where out there on the old interweb. A cold frosty pint of lager is the reward for anybody who can unearh this hidden gem.

Strike a Pose

Mirror, mirror on the wall, whose the fairest Squad member of all? It is a question that is never really asked. And if it was, I don't figure my name would worry the top of the list anyway. But there walks among us a male model. True he never made the cover of GQ, or featured in an aftershave advert, but he was chosen to model in some bride and groom kind of publication. Yes our very own Crespo, was a cover on a magazine. Behold his sultry pouting and come hither stance in the pictures below;



As you can see, he must have been chosen to feature in the Civil Partnership section, as there is not a bride to be seen anywhere. Or is there? Rumour has it there is an as yet unseen photo of him. He is pictured with a female model, resplendent in a white full length wedding gown, draped on the arm of be kilted Crespo in full Highland attire, sporran included. Och aye McKevin...

Sore Arm and More Buffoon Points

I was hoping to get caught up with some posts last night, but my arm was a wee bit tender. No not from an overdose of penis pulling (they don't call me Funky), but from my New Years resolution. In an attempt to stem the tide of my middle age spread, I have decided to try and cut back on the junk food, and take up some extra exercise. Now let me tell you straight, it will be a cold dark day in Hell before you catch me in any gym, so in an effort to diversify, I was talked into trying a game of squash with big JohnnyM and Dr Shotgun. The game itself is as stupid as the day is long, the ball ( or whatever it is called) has a mind of its own, bouncing here, there and every fucking where. And what's with the walls? I nearly concussed myself on several occasions, chasing a piss taking rubber thingy. Did I win? Did I bolloxs. I thought I had Shotgun on the ropes in my first attempt, going six points up to nil, but I started trying to act like I knew what I was doing, and was vanquished in double quick time. At least I didn't lose any games to nil. Will give it another whirl, I think, but it will never replace five a side.

On to the buffoon point. I know you are all thinking it was my good self who picked up the score, doing something spectacularly numb on the squash court, but it wasn't. I always thought that health and safety nonsense about answering your phone whilst driving was utter rubbish. But the good Doctor showed me the perils. As we drove up Southfield Road, his dog and bone rang. But he must have been concentrating to hard on the road, as instead of answering it, he slapped himself in the face with it! It was a beauty, he hit himself so hard he switched the phone off, and nearly cut himself. Priceless. I wasn't sure how to score it, but have looked up the points scoring system, and reckon it falls in the slapstick category, which warrants a Muppet, and two points. Welcome aboard Dr Shotgun.

1. Tony Helmet 10 points
2. Euro Bri 7 points
3. Shouty 6 points
4. Crespo 4 points
5. Pembo 4 points
6. Dr Shotgun 2 points
   
7. Funky 1 point
8. G-Spot 1 point
   

Away Days

After much procrastination, I am finally posting the Away Day of our sojourn to see the Bantams take on the Bees of Brentford, at Griffin park. I had been looking forward to this trip since our ignominious fall from the Premier League. Why? Because it is the only footie stadium in the country to boast a boozer on every corner. Don't catch the tube, but go on the overground train, as it is a damn site closer, and within a short stroll of the first of the pubs. The ground itself is a peach, smack in the middle of the place it represents. The pubs are all worthy stops, but my favourite was the New Inn, which had a flat screen set up outside, behind a perspex shield, so all the poor smokers could watch the football without missing a kick. The ground itself is actually known as Griffin Park because of its close ties with Fullers brewery. Inside, the away end was two tiered, upstairs is seating, but in the spirit of this old stadia, we decided to do something that you can no longer do in the top two leagues. We stood. On a terrace. A trip down memory lane. The first half was dull, but the second half was a stormer, and being stood on a terrace made it all the more memorable. I even managed to start a chant, lauding my hero doppelgänger Super Barry Conlon. Kev hung his head in shame. After the match the locals seemed friendly, but the Paulcano, Hefner and Stevie V might disagree, as the high tailed to the train station after getting some bad vibes off some local ne'er do wells. Stuff the Premier Leagues, I am beginning to enjoy this division.

The picture below features the pubs on each corner of the ground. You will have to trust me on the last one, I was getting a bit fresh by the time we got to it.


Statistics

• Capacity-12,763
  
• Concessions- They had pies, and unbelievably they were cheaper than Bradford's, by a whole 10p! Who said everything costs more down sarf. But now the bad news. Not only did you have to queue up in a small lake to purchase your half time treats, but they didn't sell beer! A ground surrounded by pubs, with strong ties to a local brewery, and they didn't sell beer! For shame...
  
• Built-1904
  
• Did You Know?- The ground is directly under the flight path to London Heathrow, and the roofs of the stands are hired out for advertising. The space is currently used by Qatar Airways
  
• Visited By- Euro Bri, Shouty, Crespo, Paulcano, Hefner and Stevie V
  
• Rating-Mount Olympus- In a similar vein to Grimsbys ground, this place is a diamond. Yes it is antiquated, the roof leaks, and there is a stream running past the concession stand, but this is the kind of place that real football was built for. Not some vast out of town abomination, built to get away from as soon as the match ends, but to represent the community that gave birth to it. I know I am coming over all left wing, but I am enjoying my trips to away games more over the last two or three seasons than i ever did when we reached the pinnacle of the English professional leagues. I will take a trip to a ground like this over a million Reeboks, Pride Parks or Riversides any day.

A Rememberance

Although he was never a true member of the Squad, to a man we all had a brush with the force of scallyness that was Keggy, one of Cottingleys most celebrated characters. I personally knew the little fella from school days, and although we lost touch on numerous occasions, when our paths crossed, it was booze and the rest all the way. Alas Keggy never did learn his limits, and was never destined to draw an old age pension. But it was still a huge shock to hear on Boxing Day that the little geezer had passed away on Christmas day. Trust him to go on that day of all days. Tomorrow, myself, Funky and assorted members go to pay our last respects to the little ragamuffin. RIP Keggy, gone but not forgotten.

When Flipper met Flopper

After a three week sabbatical, everybody was straining at their waistbands to get the 2009 season under way. We even had an argument about the rules before we started! The game finally kicked off, and after a bit of nip and tuck, the evil Gaylords were two up, before we rattled in a couple of our own to re-establish parity, and then edged in front ourselves. They scored, we scored, and then disaster. A fifty fifty ball was there to be won, and as King Daves size 10 Flipper stretched out to be met by Shoutys size ten flopper, there could be but one outcome. Unluckily for King Dave it was his flipper which buckled, and his 2009 campaign was sadly interrupted. He had to take his leave, and with the game reduced to 5 against 4, the decision was taken the game would not count. I reckon they might have changed their tune had they won, which after a whole hearted effort, they nearly did. Of course, we should have taken it more seriously, but I just can't resist the chance to slip a MoFo member the pig, and our effort was half arsed to say the least. So no result this week, and hopefully we can finally get '09 under way next Wednesday.

Public Info Ad's '70s Style

As you know, myself and G-spot have been trying to get the Stop the Nonsense site up and running over the past few months, and I have now moved all my rants and commentary on the state of how our nation is governed to this website. I am to commit at least one article a week to it and would be grateful if all the regular readers of this blog would take a look and let me know what you think. The site can be found by clicking here;

http://stopthenonsense.org.uk/

I know you are wondering what this has to do with the video posted above, but I have just sat up for an hour or so, compiling an article, some would say a tirade, against the hectoring, immature nature of our modern day public service advertising. Stuff like the Frank drug adverts featuring Pablo, and the never ending stream of commercials imploring us to quit smoking, drink less and lose weight. So I thought it might be cool to contrast this with the way it was done when we were kids. I still get the creeps every time I see Jimmy Saville, and I sure as Hell clunk click. I know you younger pups will have no idea, but for those of a certain age age, enjoy.

2009....Tough Times

What does '09 hold by way of Benders and the like? At the moment not much. Times are tough all round, and with the Euro now all but on a par with our beloved pound sterling, much of Europe has gotten extremely pricey for your normal run of the mill culture, football and beer experience. I was in Paris, only last October, and it was pretty much a fiver a pint then, so I figure it has probably topped the £7 mark as I type. True, Paris is one of the more expensive destinations on our continent, but places such as Dublin, Amsterdam and Barcelona aren't that far behind. I'd hate to think what Italy costs right now. What about the new frontiers of Eastern Europe? Not that easy to get too I am afraid. The budget airlines have cut back their routes, and the big boys ain't cheap. I have checked. Will it be worth holding out for last minute deals? It could be the best plan of action. Either that or drive. The only good news that has come with the current financial calamity is the price of petrol has dropped like a rock. I have always fancied a road trip.

So this leaves our green and pleasant island as the most viable of our choices, economically at least. Edinburgh is mentioned every year, and this may be just the right one to finally push ahead and get it done. There will be a London run again, possibly to Wembley, Bantams permitting. If not I venture another Away Day to the Big Smoke next season is nailed on. Hefner, beware the big Blue Fluffy Bears. Shy of that who can tell? Jobs are on the line, overtime has dried up, and credit card companies are not as forthcoming as previously. I definitely envision more local gatherings, and it would be good to go see Sproket and Plus ! over Wakefiled way. As ever i am open to suggestion, it is time to get creative...

Bantams 0 Shrews 0

I am sure you have all heard the old football chestnut about "murdering a team 0-0" and this was a pretty good example of it. The first half was as good as I have seen from the lads this season, and only profligacy, the wood work and poor refereeing decisions prevented the goal we deserved. Boulding missed when all thought he would score, and there were three penalty shouts, the last of which looked nailed on from where I was sat. All this against a team who are one of our main rivals for promotion. But it was two points dropped, and the worry is that some of the teams around us are now sporting a couple of games in hand. Next up is Bournemouth away, which unless me, Crespo or Shouty drop the jackpot on the lottery, is an away game too far. Next up is Accrington Stanley, who stuffed us in our home fixture last year.

Baz Watch- The first half nearly saw the moment that would have seen the Bazmeister etch himself in the memory of all who saw the game. Just inside 10 minutes, our bullet skulled centre forward got onto the end of a long punt from defence, knocked the ball up and unleashed a pile driver from the edge of his own own penalty area. A sonic boom could be heard as it flew goal wards, only to be hit the inside of the left upright, and across the face of goal to safety. A monumental effort indeed. This inspired a new chant, to the tune of winter wonderland,

"There's only one Barry Conlon, one Barry Conlon,
At fist he was shite, no we think he's alright,
Walking in a Conlon Wonderland"

Of course there are still plenty among the crowd who think he is garbage, but these tend to be the morons who spout such nuggets as "What we need is a Stevie Gerrard type in midfield" or "We need to some decent youngsters." News Flash. We are a skint, bottom tier league football team. Nobody who can get a game in the league above is interested. And while we are it, name me a team, apart from Liverpool wise acres, who wouldn't love a Stevie G? We do get a decent young local lad, and where is he playing? Leeds! Back to Big Baz. He did kind of fade a bit in the second half, but that was because the whole team ran out of ideas. Shrewsbury came for the draw, and were very good defensively. Marks? 7/10

I do have a new guest rating, but the picture is in my phone, and I can't be arsed walking across the living room to get it, so I will post it next week.

So Very Weary...

I have said it once, and I will say it again, getting old sucks. After spending the last five days drinking ale, and scarfing crap, I feel everyone of my 27 years. And the rest. New Years with the Jannettas was a hoot, although I fear I departed just as Funky was working up a head of steam. He was bouncing off the walls, and there was a glint of Buffoonery in his eyes, but the Elster had me away. It's just as well Le Maillot Jaune is the preserve of the Bender Squad, as Evil M.R.S. members Hayley and Sammy J would probably be in the first two places as we speak. Sammy twiglets up her nose were priceless, and Hayley was just being Hayley. Sunday was a swift half gallon over in Hove Edge, before the weekly gathering at the Upper George on Friday. Saturday was footie day, me and Crespo hooking up with some old friends, and ending up at his gaffe until the early hours with brother bakes. A few in the Fleece on Sunday, and I was toast, physically, mentally, and at home with the Elster. I promise to outline some of our plans fro 2009 in a different post, happen tomorrow, but I am cream crackered at the moment, and still have the match report, and Baz Watch to get on with.