Swear Jar

Bud Light. It tastes like piss, but they sure know how to make funny adverts.

Scoop Boys Spank JMF

Sorry about the lateness of this weeks match report, but I have been stricken with an epic bout of idleness. But at least it went into remission on Wednesday night, were after losing our win streak, the MoFo were looking to get themselves back to within a game. It looked good for them at first, as the red hot Clogs had to miss the game due to a nagging knee injury, and the smoking red hot Shotgun was suffering with period pains. Or an ankle injury, I cant remember. But their joy was short lived as Two Scoops made his long awaited return, and as a stand-in, he brought along his son one scoop, who just so happens to be on the books at Leeds. Now I thought the sides looked reasonably fair, bearing in mind that Scoops senior had not kicked a ball for over eight weeks, and was only hoping to give his ankle a test run, and spend most of the night in goals. But it held up better than expected, so we may have had the slightest of advantages.

Anyway, the game. The opening exchanges, as usual were a cagey affair, played at quite a frenetic pace. Scores were exchanged, but the unusually profligate Dead Eye couldn't find his range, and at the half hour mark, the MoFo imploded. Up until then it was still a close game, but a scoring blowout by the magicians in white put paid to their efforts. Funky tried his hardest, but along with Luklear, couldn't get his shooting right, and as the pace slowed, Scoops Junior took charge. This did not go down well, and the ass bandits began to bicker not only with us, but each other. Jamon claimed there was only him doing anything, and that he was "Running round like a blue arsed fly." He didn't find my comment "Makes a change from running round like a red arsed rent boy" amusing in the slightest. Of course we had to rub it in, but instead of the usual bragging, we agreed with everything they said. Penalty? Sure why not. Inside the area? Of course we were. This managed to wind them up even more. At the end we won by a landslide, as the the MoFo grumbled off into the showers. Hopefully we will have the correct teams next week, and that there will be no accusations of jerry mandering.

PS Last year, when the rampant homos had Scoops Junior on their side, and gave us a hammering, they didn't have any kind of issue with the teams.

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

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

2010 Season

JMF wins - 2


Euro Elite - 5


Draws - 0

Away Day.....Stanley 2 Bnatams 0

First up, the game. Last week was THE worst game of football I have ever seen, so this week was bound to be an improvement, at least that's what myself, Shotgun and Crespo hoped for as we set off across the snowy Pennines. And it was.....just. The early promising skirmishes soon gave way to the usual wayward passing, and the first half descended into a mild form of torture, made worse by the lack of pies. Yes the pitch was not the greatest, but it was a bright crisp day, perfect for football, and you would have thought at least a little bit of effort would have been shown to give the nearly 2,000 travelling fans to cheer about. The second half was not much better, and sections of the City crowd started to taunt each other. In fact things looked as though they might get a bit tasty, when Stanley strolled through the heart of our defense and scored. This was a feat they manged again shortly after, and the game was up. As bad as the Grimsby game? Not quite, but I don't envy Peter Taylor his task. The lack of cohesion is probably something that can be addressed, but the lack of effort or urgency shown through out the team will prove harder to shake, I fear. Rochdale away, who ripped us a new a-hole earlier in the year are next, although City have a tendency to pull out unlikely victories when playing teams who who are flying high. I won't, however be placing a brass penny on them to do so.

So what about the ground? As regular readers will be aware, I am a bit of an old romantic, with a soft spot for old lower league stadia from a bygone era. But this was just plain crap. Queueing up in a sea of mud in my suede pulling trainers, put me in a black mood, and when I spied through the fencing that there were no pies on the menu, I nearly turned tail for the nearest pub. Combine this with very sweet, but very geriatric turnstile attendants who took an age to grant you access to the ground, and the score plummeted. Inside the ground (You couldn't mistake this place for a stadium in a million years) the view wasn't that bad, and yes, it did have a certain quaintness. The home fans were also good value, even having the cheek to sing "What's it like to see a crowd?" to the visiting fans, who in fact outnumbered them. Not a bad day out, although thanks to Crespo we got there too late for a pint.

I have uploaded a samall gallery here.

Statistics

• Capacity-5,057
  
• Concessions- No Pies!!! Deep in Lancashire, acknowledged as pie country, and there was not one hot, filling, tasty, lovely savoury pastry to be seen anywhere. There was the usual assortment of e-coli in a bun, but no pies!! They even taunted the crowd with a big advertising hoarding for Clayton Pies, with the slogan "Pietastic at Stanley!" If I wasn't such a lazy old toad, I would be taking legal advice for false advertising. Rubbish doesn't quite do justice to the awfulness. Saying that, the chips looked nice.
  
• Built- 1968, with piss and vinegar by the looks of it.
  
• Did You Know?-That wearing ultra cool, suede pulling trainers is a massive no-no? Well let me tell you it is. The area surrounding the ground is a mire of mud. Not any kind of mud, but the diarrhea texture variety that gets everywhere.
  
• Visited By- Euro Bri, Shotgun, Helmet and Crespo
  
• Rating- Allotment- I hate to harp on about it, but my trainers are still recovering. Apart from that, it is hard to find, doesn't sell pies, the away end is basically a breeze block pen, and the sun shone in your eyes. For this reason, a new category has been created, as we all came to the conclusion that it was below even the rating of Garden Shed. A more worthy tag was felt be that of "Allotment." And before you ask, Crespo and Shotgun were also sporting their pulling trainers.

JMF Break Streak

All good things come to an end, and our four game win streak was no exception, as an injury plagued Elite bravely fell to the cock munchers of the JMF. Clogs and Shotgun were well short of match fitness, and our lack of mobility eventually caught up with us late in the game. We were under pressure from the off, but solid defending, sharp keeping and a dash of luck helped keep the MoFo at bay. We were also playing well on the break, and every time the jism gobblers took the lead, we sprung back to equalize. The main protagonist was Shotgun, whose finishing was exemplary. Clogs was carrying a knock, so was not at his mobile best, but his keeping was excellent, and after weathering the JMF storm we sprung our trap, and jumped into the lead. We finally had the upper hand, and the game seemed to be there for the taking, it just needed a free scoring member of the side to take up the challenge, and I reckon the game would have been ours. But that responsibility fell on my shoulders, and after weeks of good scoring form, I picked the worst possible time to hit a drought. The fact is that my shooting wasn't that bad. More or less every effort was on target, but they kept hitting the lump timber that was left minding the goals, King Dave. In fact he didn't save one shot. They just kept hitting him. Over and over. It was just about at this moment that the JMF decided maybe if they started taking a few of their chances they might win. Which is how we lost by five goals. Dead Eye and Luklear were foremost among the scorers, and even the Child Catcher nearly broke his duck. Before I finish up this post, it would be remiss of me not too mention the Shoutster, who put in a valiant effort. Hopefully normal service will be resumed next week.

JMF- King Dave, Dead Eye, Child Catcher, Luklear War and Jamon

EURO E- Euro Bri, Clogs, Big Phil, Shouty and Dr Shotgun

2010 Season

JMF wins - 2


Euro Elite - 4


Draws - 0

Is It All That?

You remember that I posted a thread about this a month or so back, concerning the video game COD: Modern Warfare 2, where I questioned what all the fuss was about. Well I am afraid I will have to review my earlier findings, in which I doubted it's greatness, after having my arse kicked by a ten year old. I have since got in touch with my inner adolescent, and think it is brilliant, as I am mo longer cannon fodder for the legions of dole dossers and pre-pubescent who play this game online. I may not be Rambo incarnate, by any means, but I ain't nobodies bitch either. Of course this has impacted on my social life, and the amount of time I put into this blog. But now that I am of a reasonable standing I will be resuming my real life. Thank you for your patience.

Rolling Rock v Guinness: The Grand Final

So this is it. After months of posting and voting to find out which beer will go forward as "Official Beer of the Bender squad" we have reached the final two. One has come through several difficult draws, and even lost it's semi-final, but was reinstated after questions were raised about the veracity of it's opponents final vote tally. Of course Guinness was always considered a strong contender for the title, it has several fans amongst the squad, and it will be no surprise if it wins the final in a landslide. The beer in the other corner, Rolling Rock, is on the other hand, very much a surprise finalist. Qualifying in a dead heat from the USA section of the qualifiers, it seems to owe it's place in the final pairing due to it's ability to be just a bit better than all it's adversaries during the round robin knockout. Tesco Value Beer, Budweiser and DAB fell to the green bottled brew, although I think DAB's demise in the final four may have been down too a disgruntled Kolsch fan. So there you have it. This time next week I shall declare a winner as the Squads official brew. Will it be the heavily favoured Guinness, or will Rolling Rock become the Buster Douglas of the beer world? The choice is yours......

Weekly Beer Advert

The final rounds of the "battle of the Brews" as you are aware, have featured clips from ad campaigns related the lagers, bitters and stouts that progressed. These have proved quite popular, and are the perfect lazy posting for me, a man of unlimited idleness. So the "battle of the ...." thread will, after this weeks final morph into a weekly beer ad thread. Enjoy.

Bantams 0 Mariners 0

I am not going to waste much time on this match, it was shite. So bad that me and Queso bailed at half time, making off to the Beehive. It really was that desperate.

It was good, however, to have a long absent compadre out with us once again, The Boy Dazzler. Wether he has come back from the wilderness remains to be seen, but it was grand to have him out again, and he didn't disappoint, putting in a vintage Dazzler performance, after Queso plied him with Jack Daniels. Also out was Lobon, another long time absentee, giving the whole evening a nostalgic tinge. Crespo was only out for a couple, but he must meant a couple of dozen, as he was still knocking them back when me and the Boy ditched around eleven. I have reports of Buffoonery from our lanky hero, something I need to investigate further. You have to watch yourself when pissed at the moment, as current champion Helmet is keen as mustard to catch out the unsuspecting, particularly as his late finishes at work means he is sober and you are not. His look of disdain towards our drunken japery is a bit odd though, he appears to be giving the impression that he has never been arsed himself. Anyway, I shall elaborate more on the current standings in the next couple of days, as I have not much idea of what went on. Apparently Crespo was out foxed by a balloon. Hopefully Helmet will be in the pub on Wednesday to watch the football, and can give me the full low down.

A Bit Late

I nearly forgot to post this update, from the game last week. It concerns an update that was missed to the race for Le Maillott Jaune 2010. It has been brought to my attention that brother Queso earned himself a brace the other week, when he took a drunken stumble out the door of the Villager. Graham happened to witness his fall, and after watching him struggle to get to his feet, went to his aid. He picked him up and passed him drink commenting "That at least you didn't spill any!" to which Queso looked at him and said"Didn't fooking want it anyway", and threw it away, a double has been awarded. I also earned a a point last week at the City match, when after watching one punt too many stood up and shouted "I have had enough of this shite, I am off to the pub! Who is with me?" Of course no one was, and I was forced to trudge off to the pub on my own. I would have looked more stupid if I had stayed. The day is documented on my gallery site here. I have just got a new camera, and decided to take it for a test run. It is the usual assortment of pics taken in the pub, but what the hell, I haven't used my site for ages.

Updated standings;

1. Trigger 10 points
   
2. Crespo 8 points
   
3. Charlie Child Catcher 7 points
   
4. Euro Bri 7 points
5. El Grande Queso 6 points
   
6. Gareeeeeee 4 points
7. Mikey D 3 Points
8. John the Don 2 points
   
9. San 1 Point
10. Shotuy 1 point

Blue Movie

Sorry for the lack of posting over the last few days, on Sunday, the day I try and get caught up, I was waylaid by the Super Bowl, and a visit to the cinema to see Avatar. To be honest, I wasn't that bothered about seeing it, but the Ikester and the Mercenary were, so I thought "What the Fuck" and went to see what all the fuss was about. I have seen plenty of the new wave of 3-D, but this was reported as being the most cutting edge available. Which it wasn't. No I didn't see it on an IMAX screen, which does give it more depth, allegedly, but anybody who has seen the Magic Flute, or Bugs Life at Disney Land will wonder what the fuss is about. Even the wildlife/dinosaur shows at the aforementioned IMAX are more impressive. This is not to say that the effects weren't amazing, but the hyperbole was bound to leave one a little disappointed. The CGI on the other hand was remarkable. The big Blue Folk, the scenery and yes the 3-D were top notch, but the most impressive piece of jiggery pokery, to my mind, was the effects used on the guy who was crippled. His legs looked so withered, that I actually enquried of the Mercenary after the movie as too whether he was a paraplegics in real life. He wasn't sure, but admitted it certainly looked that way. But he ain't. Turns out he is some geezer called Sam Worthington, and his legs work perfectly fine, and are quite sturdy to look at. Amazing. The movie itself? Long. Wayyyyy tooo long. But all right. Like the Titanic, but better, and the good guy doesn't die. But you don't get to see Kate Winslets tits. And even though Sigourney Weaver is in it there aren't no pissed off Aliens. Which is a bit of a shame, as that's one of my favourite flicks. Actually they do get a bit pissed at the end, but in tree hugging liberal kind of way, which just isn't the same.

Euro Boys Streak Still Going

A dead eyeless JMF had lost three straight before tonight's encounter, and the relief was palpable on his return to the ranks of camp. King Dave was still absent, injured, and on our side Two Scoops decided upon extending his recuperation period by another week. Dr Shotguns rich run of form was interrupted by a heel injury, but the Mercenary was able to change his rota, so it was pretty much a straight swap. Stand ins were as last week, Child Catcher for the rent boys, Big Phil for the forces of good. All was set fair for a tight game.

Which looked to be on the cards, as both sides swapped the lead on several occasions during the opening period. Dead Eye's enforced break hadn't seemed to impair his shooting, but the boys in white hung tough, keeping pace first through the Shoutster, and then through an inform Clogs, who was everywhere. Around the quarter hour mark though a break through was made, as the Euro boys struggled to find their impressive rhythm of the previous weeks. The shirt lifters saw an opening, and in a flurry of admittedly fine finishing, carved out a four goal lead. At the end of last years campaign, this would have seen the righteous more than likely capitulate, but redemption was to hand, as the Child catcher took up his shift between the sticks. The previous week had seen an impressive stint in goals from the young whirlwind, but tonight was the polar opposite, as a flurry of howlers allowed the Elite to whittle the lead down to a solitary score. And then everything clicked. Yes, as Funky said at the end of the game, we may of had the rub of the green, but once we found our groove, we were unstoppable. It has been a rich vein of form lately, and this was highlighted by a beautiful score by Shouty, who slalomed his way through a retreating sea of red shirts , and then finish his excellent run with a perfect shot. Even Big Phil started to forge into the opposite half, and with a little mot=re confidence would have scored a hat full. But special mention goes to Clogs. As the MoFo strived to get back into the game, he proved unbeatable in nets, and then, once his shift was over, rampaged through their rearguard, as we racked up a five goal lead. Hats off to the limp writed Nancy boys for not giving up, but in the end they were well beaten. early doors, I know, but there 2009 victory all of a sudden seems like a long time ago.......


JMF- Funky, Dead Eye, Child Catcher, Luklear War and Jamon

EURO E- Euro Bri, Clogs, Big Phil, Shouty and The Mercenary

2010 Season

JMF wins - 1


Euro Elite - 4


Draws - 0

Bantams 0 Shakers 1

Well that's it for City legend Stuart McCall, who after a run of poor results walked away from the managers job. He will always be a club legend as a player, but if there was ever proof that a great player doesn't necessarily make a great manager, this is it. For almost three seasons we have been rooted in the bottom tier of the Football League, and this season we actually have begun to go backwards. A lot of his supporters will point out a lack of funds, but compared to both Rochdale and yesterdays visitors Bury, both of whom occupy top three positions, we are Chelsea. And let's not forget, he did get a decent amount of money to spend on players in his first two seasons. The fact is, we are rubbish, and if a couple of players don't have a good game we are doomed.

The game itself was the perfect example of why it was time for a new man at the helm. Bury didn't put up much of a game, they seemed content to play for the draw, but our tactics were bewildering to say the least. A partially fit Hanson was recalled to lead the line, but once again he persevered with the inept midfield pairing of Bullock and Flynn. The latter has been awful for months, yet it is continually others who pay with their places for our ineptitude. Last weeks late goal hero Evans was recalled, as a right winger, which beggars belief as the boy can't pass, cross or dribble. I have made the point before that he is basically a cross country runner, all running, no product. The one surprise was the performance of our Keystone defenders, who actually played well. The first half was one of the dullest 45 minutes I have ever bore witness too, but even this dirge was usurped by the following half. Within seven minutes of the restart, we were a goal down, and the game was pretty much up. Our managers plan to claw our way back into the match? To take off Daley, push our tall centre forward out to the left, and bring on a striker who hadn't played for weeks. I am afraid with twenty minutes to go, one of our midfield players, I think it was Evans, who had time and space to move into, look up and find a fellow teammate, instead humped the ball all the way to the opposition goalie. I am afraid I blew a gasket, made my feelings known to all around me, and flounced out of the ground in a strop. It was one of those moments when you say something you don't mean, but then have to follow it up, as you would look even stupider if you didn't. I have accepted the Buffoon point that was awarded.

So what next for the Bantams? The nightmare scenario for me, is that the joint chairman will have not learned their lesson about hiring unproven former players, and give the job to the empty headed Dean Windass. If they think this will drive up season ticket sales, they can think again, as I will not be renewing. Hopefully they can poach some young up and comer with a proven track record in the lower leagues, instead of some "name" that will raise nothing but our profile. Teams like our opponents have shown the way to challenge at this grade, and I can't believe that a club the size of ours has too play second fiddle to the likes of Bury, Morecambe and the like.

DAB versus Rolling Rock

The semi finalists that wee least expected. Rolling Rock is the biggest surprise, it would appear the a succession of favourable draws has seen it earn it final for berth, an accusation that can also be levelled at DAB, which although it is one of my favourites, does not have a huge profile in the UK. But that's the way the draw works, and one of these underdogs will be taking on the might of Guinness in the final.

Rolling Rock Commercial

The supposedly famous Rolling Rock beer ape, a job that if it were real, would be tailor made for brother Shouty.

Well it sounds German

The search for a DAB advert is still proving fruitless, so after a cursory search of YouTube for a fitting substitute, I uncovered this one from brazil. The beer is called bavaria, which is German sounding, and has one fit chick in a hot bikini. Enough said.

Accrington Ahoy!

Before this weekend, it looked as if our little jaunt into pie country would be a quiet-ish affair, with maybe a hand full of us making the trip. But on Saturday, Jimmy, Bakes et all, also declared an interest, so all of a sudden it looks like it could be a full blown Bender. This could of course all change, as Bakes crew can be a bit fickle, especially if they all get mashed the night before, but we shall see. I know this is a bit off script, but isn't the bint who does the mid week lottery a spooky looking fella? Proper Croyden face lift she has. Not right lucky either, as I only got one number. back to the trip, on the 20th of February, and I will keep an eye out to make sure it isn't an all ticket affair.

Stewards Enquiry

You may have noticed that there has been no postings declaring the winner of the first semi final of "The Battle of the Brews." The reason is, after several complaints, that final tally is thought to have been rigged. I have been approached by a number of members who believe that a certain bespectacled lover of kolsch, has been using under hand methods to stuff the ballot in favour of his beloved brew. I have taken this under advise, and find that this has indeed been the case. How do I know? Because he told me. So I am left with no other choice than to declare the tally for kolsch void, and declare that Guinness is the beer that will be going through to the final. Sorry Shouty, The Unelected President for Life, ie moi, has decreed it so.

Righteous Smite MoFo

Yet again injuries resulted in two very different line ups, and throw in the traffic chaos due to a couple of millimetres of snow, meant that it was touch and go as to whether we would have the requisite ten players to make the result official. So before I write up the match, a big "Nice One" goes out to the Child Catcher and Young Gaz, who committed to playing at the eleventh hour.

So the game, and this week the shirt lifters were satisfied that the teams were a more evenly matched pair than the previous week. It was nip and tuck for the first fifteen minutes, as the scores stayed pretty much level, young Child Catcher was throwing himself into every challenge, flooring most of the Euro boys, until he came up against the human rock that is Big Phil. Charlie's puppy like enthusiasm was no match for our veteran defenders nouse, and he was soon subdued. The match appeared to have turned around the half way mark, as the dirty cheaters of the MoFo surged into a two goal lead, but the boys in white were beginning to find some rhythm, and we finally clicked. Some of the passing and movement displayed by Euro, Shouty, Clogs, Big Phil and the good Doctor was nothing short of sublime. and within ten minutes the result was made safe. Big Phil broke his duck, curling in a sweet shot. Clogs rifled a clearance into the bottom corner from inside his own half, I drifted through the middle to strike a couple and the Shoutster kept up his scoring form with a couple of Exocet's. But it was the scoring prowess of the usually profligate Shotgun that was most impressive, as he worked the channels to find space and rattle in a hat full. The JMF huffed and puffed to try and regain some semblance of pride, but it just wasn't their night. After a long lay off, Yolung Gaz was rusty, and Luklear had one of those evenings when his shots blazed just wide. Will the returm of Dead Eye help them regain some form? On this showing it will be hard to say, as we were, to put it quite bluntly, fucking brilliant.

JMF- Funky, Young Gaz, Child Catcher, Luklear War and Jamon

EURO E- Euro Bri, Clogs, Big Phil, Shouty and Dr Shotgun

2010 Season

JMF wins - 1


Euro Elite - 3


Draws - 0

All Change at the Top

Buffoonery Ahoy! You would have figured as we were out for brother Crespo's birthday, it may have been him who was at the centre of the points scoring, but it was the Bingley brigade who upped the ante. First up the Child Catcher. A hard one to score, as he is more annoying than stupid, and one of these days he is going to catch a proper beating. He even managed to wind me up, breaking the goldenest of golden rules by fucking around with my beer. I issued a severe reprimand, and it made it quite clear he was walking a fine line. But the nearest he came to a slap, was from Tony Helemt, who after a rough day at the office, came into the pub to let off a little steam, and blow the head off a cold one. The fact he was still wearing a tie proved to much for our young pest, and he wouldn't leave it alone. You could see the steam start to build up in Tony's head, and at one pint the Cathcer was a cats cock hair from getting strangled. Even his dad had to tell him to calm it down. He just doesn't learn, and maybe it's a good old fashion kicking he needs. I fear a good one is immanent. Three points.

Next up is the Grande Queso, and at the heart of his points tally, yet again. lies the Child Catcher. The youngster managed to piss off the owner of the City Vaults, he was pestering his insanely young piece of ass, but instead of tossing his backside out the door, told him he wasn't to be served for an hour, whilst he sobered up a bit. Not knowing the full tale, Queso burst into action. With no chunks of steak at hand to wave around, he instead produced his affiliation card, shouting loudly that he was an off duty CID detective, and that he was calling round the boy's to shut the place down. It was pretty funny that the bar manager took him so seriously, and entered into discussions, but when he uttered the immortal "Don't you know who I am?" points were required. He also lost his phone on the way home, a guaranteed point, bringing his total up to three.

But there was only one truly star turn. He even earned himself a new Bender Squad handle. No longer is he to be known as Maffy, but from this day hence he will be referred to as Trigger. Not once, not twice. Not even thrice. But time and again he got the Mercenary name wrong, apparently confusing him for some chap called Nick, who lives in New Zealand, and that he hasn't seen the best part of five years. But the Mercenary was not alone. John the Don, one of the most recognisable faces in the Greater Wilsden area, was re-christened Peter. When his foible was pointed out, he looked John straight in the eye, and said "Sorry Pete." But what was he still doing out? He had been redecorating his house, unplugged the telly and the computer to wall paper, when he decided to nip out for an hour. That was at two in the afternoon. When he staggered out of the Vaults at elevenish, he was shit faced. For the time in between, his mobile was under constant bombardment from his M.R.S., who was sat at home, alone, with no TV or Internet. She may well have been sat in the dark. All I know, is that she was mondo pissed. So what did Trigger do when he got outside the Vaults? On the realisation that he had no money, he decided to walk home. Which from the City Centre to his doorstep comes up at just over seven miles. And he was proper wankered. Anyway, he must have covered a couple of miles, when he realised just how far it was to get home. So he had to ring up his massively irate to come and fetch him from Mannigham Lane. The only problem was that he was walking along Toller Lane, which is no where near Manningham Lane. The poor girl had to drive around a couple of the less salubrious areas of town for about an hour before she located him. I am certainly glad I wasn't him the next day. All told, I figure it was a ten point haul, if you combine everything. A classic performance.

Current 2010 Standings

1. Trigger 10 points
   
2. Crespo 8points
   
3. Charlie Child Catcher 7 points
   
4. Euro Bri 6 points
   
5. Gareeeeeee 4 points
6. Grande Queso 4 points
   
7. Mikey D 3 Points
8. John the Don 2 points
   
9. San 1 Point
10. Shotuy 1 point