Steady Cup

Well our annual jamboree for the FA Cup didn't quite pan out as planned. Myself and helmet were primed and ready to hook up with the Wakefield Massive, but one by one the Bradford lads backed out. Crespo finally turned up, at quarter past two, but at least he brought Patty with him. The Lord Clyde was chosen as the venue, which would have been good, but for one thing. They had Horse racing on, and we got fleeced. Nobody did ought on the match itself, so by three o'clock we were a tad skint. Even more so Helmet, who lost £70 on the bus on the way into town. Une Point. The day seemed set fair for much buffoonery, but after our rinsing by the local book keep, the wind was taken from our sails. The rest of the evening was fairly non descript. In fact I was home for around ten, I didn't really want to draw any more cash, and left the rest to get shit faced in the Villager. Next year is the tenth anniversary of our yearly shindig, and mention was made of perhaps an over nighter down to London. There is plenty of time to mull it over.