Calamity Crespo

You have to hand it to these youngsters, I suppose, for still giving it all on the old five a side court. Instead of a wizened old veteran such as myself, who will all ways leave a potential hospital ball well alone, it is amazing to see the young bucks throw caution to the wind, playing as if there may be some scout from Manchester United on the look out for a player who has slipped through the net. Of course such a being does not exist, and with only seconds reaming of our weekly Thursday game at Frame One, Crespo was chasing a lost cause, when Chopper Younis upended our doe eyed hero, and dislocated his shoulder. I will give Kev his due, I fully expected tears, but he managed to contain himself to a pitiful whimper instead. We had a brief discussion of how to pop it back in. The guys who owned the place reckoned you had to lift your up high, and it would slip back in of it's own accord. Myself and Clogs thought that Mel Gibson in Lethal Weapon 2 way was the best option, and where ready to bash him up against a wall, but were sadly talked out of it. So I carted him off to hospital. The whimpering increased, especially when we went over speed bumps, and he kept threatening to pass out, but on arrival, and after a healthy dose of gas and air to calm him down, he perked up no end. In fact he seemed quite chipper when I left him to get his X-ray, and have the bad boy popped back in. An hour later was a different kettle of fish though, as the Temazipan had kicked in, and the nursing staff were now withholding his gas privileges.

It was at this point I relinquished my care of duty to his Trouble and Strife, which was just as well, because I was starving hungry, and my sweaty football kit had dried out, and I hummed. Here's to a speedy recovery.