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Friday, August 06, 2010
Has the George been Goosed?
A while back I ran a top ten pubs of Bradford, and if memory serves The Upper George at Wibsey finished as numero uno. But there has been a nasty development of late. For some unfathomable reason they have introduced a pub disc jockey. It gets worse. He goes by the name of DJ Gaz, is about 52 and his record collection stops around 1989. To be fair, he has cut the volume over the last couple of weeks from ear drum shattering to dull roar. This meant a few weeks back a quick escape from the audio abomination, to the more tranquil surrounding s of the Gaping Goose (aka the Gaping Gash) which proved a bit of a result. Yes it is a bit of a time warp, what with the hanging Toby Jugs and numerous brass plates on the wall, but the beer is cheaper, and it has a much mellower vibe, more suited to the gentleman of advancing years that myself and Geevers have now become. Of course we still meet up at the George, but by around nine the Gazmeister has us beating our feet down the road. In fact, I think we shall return tonight, it is Friday after all...
Thursday, August 05, 2010
Finger Out of Arse
As all of you have noticed over the last few months, my commitment to this blog has been pretty woeful. I could point to numerous reasons for this, but the main one is bone idleness. But I have finally relieved the proverbial kick up the arse that has been much need, from the good Dr Shotgun, how has told me quite frankly, that it has become stale and boring. And he is bang on the money. So from henceforth, I shall be making sure I allocate more time to the nonsense that is "Euros World." Of course it helps that football season is primed and ready to start this weekend. It is also good that we have an immediate "Away day" to post, as myself, Helmet and Crespo take off into deepest darkest Shropshire to watch the Bantams play the Shrews, This is followed by a 21st shindig for Kevs brother at the Fiddlers, There is a good chance that Clogs, The Boy, Mossy and even possibly Spunky Monkey could be out and about as well. All the required ingredients for some well earned buffoonery. Let the good times roll.
Die beliebtesten Majors Deutsch tune
You mat remember a couple of months ago that I posted El Grande Queso's favorite German tune (thanks to the Shoutster for tracking it down), but the Major also has a choice recording to add to the fray. Being a younger chap, it is not as folksy as the Big Cheese's, but I like it just as much. it has nothing at all to do with Fraulein in greens hot pants, or the fact that her bottom seems to be eating the fabric as you watch, but it does help. This has given me the idea for a random thread, dedicated to the joys of European popular music, and all suggestions will be galdy taken under consideration, apart from "99 Luftballons" which is just bloody lazy.
All together now....Hey! Das Geht Ab!
All together now....Hey! Das Geht Ab!
Wednesday, August 04, 2010
OMG!
It was a strange night down the Wood. A patched up JMF were badly let down when a planned fill in never showed. A passing sports centre employee was corralled into playing, and we finally got off to a start. The game itself was sightly lacklustre, late starts usually do this, but it was brought ot life by two stunning displays, that have earned a one off change of moniker. For one week only, Shouty shall be known as Shooty, and the good Dr Shotgun shall be referred to as DR Death, for the way he euthanized the opposition with a flurry of goals, that snuffed the life out of the MoFo challenge. Shooty may never have another night like this one. His boots became exocet launchers, as the goals flew in from far and wide, each one unstoppable. Myself, Two Scoops and Clogs could afford to take it easy, and crack jokes, and expended most of our efforts on winding up the rent boys, which was most enjoyable. They did, for a brief spell, have a chance to exert some pressure on the Righteous, but some fine keeping kept them at bay, and the game was up. A slender lead, once more for the Euro Boys.
JMF- King Dave, Big Phil, Dead Eye, Luklear War and Nab Wood Employee
EURO E- Euro Bri, Clogs, Dr Death, Shooty and Two Scoops
2010 Season
JMF wins - 14
Euro Elite - 15
Draws - 0
JMF- King Dave, Big Phil, Dead Eye, Luklear War and Nab Wood Employee
EURO E- Euro Bri, Clogs, Dr Death, Shooty and Two Scoops
2010 Season
JMF wins - 14
Euro Elite - 15
Draws - 0
Top Ten.....Drunken Injuries
This thread was inspired by Crespo's recent injury playing football, and to be honest it was his idea. This meant I had to think up ten scrapes that warranted inclusion, and would have some entertainment value. The problem with this, is that usually, somebody getting hurt just isn't that funny, except for one instance. That is, of course, when they are inebriated. So I got to thinking, and drawing up a short list of entrants to compile my list. Surprisingly though, and with some credit it has to be noted, I couldn't think of ten. Nor nine. Not even SIX! That's right, even after decades of stupidity, buffoonery and oceans of ale, I could only think of five cases worthy of reporting. But the five that I thought of, are good 'uns, especially the top three. So in reverse order, these are the top drunken trips, spills, beaks and abrasions in Bender squad history.
5. Jamon, The Skip. Madrid 2005.
Long absent member Jamon, was pretty much wankered all weekend during our trip to see Real Madrid in the Spanish capital. The amazing thing was that his come uppance did not occur until our final night. Up till this point he had nearly been smacked by a massive taxi driver, had run ins with numerous bouncers and staggered all around a vast night club with several steep staircases. But he just about manged to circumnavigate all of them. The thing that felled, so he claims, was a building site skip. Now there is plenty of skepticism surrounding this claim, especially from myself and Helmet, how maintain he upset a passing group of girl guides who duffed him up, but as he was the only person present, his account will have to suffice. What is known though, and we have eye witness accounts from both Helmet and King Dave, was that he was found unconscious in the bath room, covered in vomit, sick and piss, with a big gash on his napper. Because we were abroad, there was no visit to the local A&E, as he had no insurance, and had never bothered to get his E111. A close scrape indeed. (OOA stands for Out Of Action)
Damage Rating-
Unconscious- 2/5
Ambulance- 0/5
Blood- 3/5
Breakage- 0/5
Buffoon- 2/5
OOA- 0/5
Total- 7/30
4. Helmet, The Suitcase. Wilsden 2007
This was is pure Helmet, who has a penchant for being a dare devil when he is in the United Kingdom ( I should point out that he doesn't do this kind of thing abroad, as he has reminded me on numerous occasions.) For a time he lived in an old terraced house in the back of beyond, commonly known as Wilsden, and one night, when pissed, came up with a novel way to combine luggage with skiing. I am sure they had a name for this wonderful new "sport" but the name escapes me for the moment. What I do know is the involved standing in an open suitcase, at the top of some steep stone steps, and launching one's self downwards. They even did it two at a time, and no doubt backwards and blindfolded, depending on the intake of alcohol and God knows what else. the injury count, as you can imagine was high, but the best (or worst) injury was the inventor himself, sustaining a hair line fracture of the leg. Marvelous.
Damage Rating-
Unconscious- 0/5
Ambulance- 0/5
Blood- 0/5
Breakage- 2/5
Buffoon- 5/5
OOA- 2/5
Total- 9/30
3. Jamon, The Palm Tree. Bradford, 2001
The big man strikes again, and once more the exact cause of his demise is shrouded in mystery. All that is known, is that we were in a night club, that was in the old Blue Lace, that had some kind of insane drinks promotion on. It was Waynsters birthday, and Jamon was arsed and in full obnoxious mode. The problem was that this was a work night, and only he had the next day off. So as the progressed, and he upset more and more folk, his posse was dwindling, leaving him more and more isolated. He was last seen swinging from a plastic palm tree, telling the bouncers, who were trying to coax him down, to suck his cock. The next sighting of Mr Jamon was laid out on his sofa, with several stitches in his head, to badly bruised ribs and a dislocated shoulder. He claims to have blacked out, only coming too as he was loaded onto an ambulance, after being recovered from the bottom of the fire exit steps. You don't need to be Sherlock Holmes to figure out what happened, do you?
Damage Rating-
Unconscious- 2/5
Ambulance- 5/5
Blood- 1/5
Breakage- 1/5
Buffoon- 3/5
OOA- 2/5
Total- 14/30
2. Helmet, The Roller Blade. Wilsden 2001
What is it with Tony and house parties in Wilsden? This was the annual Old Years night Shindig at Tanya's, and the lad was in full stuntman mode. It was a freezing cold night, and after drinking up a storm round the pubs of Wilsden, we carried on the festivities, with such japery as breakfast hatch diving (for witch I ended up taking half the skin of me bald head, after a botched landing) and an assortment of other Tom foolery. But the icing on the cake was to occur at the crack of dawn. As I lay in slumber on the sofa, Helmet had come across a pair of roller blades, that belonged to Tanya's teenage daughter. The led, if memory serves, to some kind of dare being laid down. As I said, Danielle must have been around 13 at the time, and didn't (still doesn't) have the foot size of the six foot plus Helmet. This did not prevent him some how managing to squeeze his big old flippers into the youngsters roller blades. After this result, he announced he was going to blade his way home, and we would see him in the pub around lunch time. As I alluded to earlier, it was the coldest festive season in decades, and it was extremely icy underfoot, as the Big Lad found out on the third step down from the front door. I became aware of the unfolding situation when I came around to find a couple of Paramedics hovering over me, looking at my scuffed up cranium. "Are you sure this one doesn't need any attention?" I heard one enquire. I told her I was fine, and they left, with Helmet strapped up in the back of their meat wagon, headed for the Bradford Royal Infirmary to patch up his broken leg. In three places. The lad needs covering in bubble wrap.
Damage Rating-
Unconscious- 0/5
Ambulance- 5/5
Blood- 0/5
Breakage- 5/5
Buffoon- 5/5
OOA- 4/5
Total- 19/30
1. Geevers, The Bunny Hop. Wyke 2006
What on Earth could top Helmets skating folly I hear you ask. Well gather round old chums, and I shall share a story of stupidity that will stretch your perceptions of idiocy. For those of you who don't know Geevers (aka G-Spot) he is a lover of mountain biking and beer, a combination that should never be combined. Unfortunately one dark winters eve, after a good session in the Upper George, a well lubricated Geevers, whilst out walking his dog, happened across some young biking enthusiasts practising a variety of tricks. Next to a electric sub station. "Here lads" piped up our hero, " I'll show you a trick!" he averred. He scrambled up to the top of the sub station, and got one of the lads to pass up his cycle. His aim was to bunny hop of the building, and execute a perfect landing. Now I have had the benefit of bumping into of these young fella's, and have witnessed what happened next, thanks to the lad having videoed the action on his phone. Geevers is stood ready to go, and at the last moment appears to have a moment of clarity, and tries to stop his impossible manoeuvre. But it's too late, and a "Bolloxs" is audible as he tumbles head first off the building. The result? A broken back, no less. A passer by alerts the emergency services, as one of the lads takes his dog home, and breaks the news of the failed stunt to his missus, who is none to pleased. He is strapped into brace and rushed off to hospital. Weeks later, and still not fully recovered, he sneezes, and once more an ambulance is summoned to rescue our glass backed hero. Thankfully, through the passing of time, he has recovered, but sadly our search to re-find the video clip has failed. The night we met the lad, neither of had a phone with blue tooth, so we were unable to attain the footage for your entertainment. which is a shame, as it was well funny.
Damage Rating-
Unconscious- 0/5
Ambulance- 5/5
Blood- 0/5
Breakage- 5/5
Buffoon- 5/5
OOA- 5/5
Total- 20/30
5. Jamon, The Skip. Madrid 2005.
Long absent member Jamon, was pretty much wankered all weekend during our trip to see Real Madrid in the Spanish capital. The amazing thing was that his come uppance did not occur until our final night. Up till this point he had nearly been smacked by a massive taxi driver, had run ins with numerous bouncers and staggered all around a vast night club with several steep staircases. But he just about manged to circumnavigate all of them. The thing that felled, so he claims, was a building site skip. Now there is plenty of skepticism surrounding this claim, especially from myself and Helmet, how maintain he upset a passing group of girl guides who duffed him up, but as he was the only person present, his account will have to suffice. What is known though, and we have eye witness accounts from both Helmet and King Dave, was that he was found unconscious in the bath room, covered in vomit, sick and piss, with a big gash on his napper. Because we were abroad, there was no visit to the local A&E, as he had no insurance, and had never bothered to get his E111. A close scrape indeed. (OOA stands for Out Of Action)
Damage Rating-
Unconscious- 2/5
Ambulance- 0/5
Blood- 3/5
Breakage- 0/5
Buffoon- 2/5
OOA- 0/5
Total- 7/30
4. Helmet, The Suitcase. Wilsden 2007
This was is pure Helmet, who has a penchant for being a dare devil when he is in the United Kingdom ( I should point out that he doesn't do this kind of thing abroad, as he has reminded me on numerous occasions.) For a time he lived in an old terraced house in the back of beyond, commonly known as Wilsden, and one night, when pissed, came up with a novel way to combine luggage with skiing. I am sure they had a name for this wonderful new "sport" but the name escapes me for the moment. What I do know is the involved standing in an open suitcase, at the top of some steep stone steps, and launching one's self downwards. They even did it two at a time, and no doubt backwards and blindfolded, depending on the intake of alcohol and God knows what else. the injury count, as you can imagine was high, but the best (or worst) injury was the inventor himself, sustaining a hair line fracture of the leg. Marvelous.
Damage Rating-
Unconscious- 0/5
Ambulance- 0/5
Blood- 0/5
Breakage- 2/5
Buffoon- 5/5
OOA- 2/5
Total- 9/30
3. Jamon, The Palm Tree. Bradford, 2001
The big man strikes again, and once more the exact cause of his demise is shrouded in mystery. All that is known, is that we were in a night club, that was in the old Blue Lace, that had some kind of insane drinks promotion on. It was Waynsters birthday, and Jamon was arsed and in full obnoxious mode. The problem was that this was a work night, and only he had the next day off. So as the progressed, and he upset more and more folk, his posse was dwindling, leaving him more and more isolated. He was last seen swinging from a plastic palm tree, telling the bouncers, who were trying to coax him down, to suck his cock. The next sighting of Mr Jamon was laid out on his sofa, with several stitches in his head, to badly bruised ribs and a dislocated shoulder. He claims to have blacked out, only coming too as he was loaded onto an ambulance, after being recovered from the bottom of the fire exit steps. You don't need to be Sherlock Holmes to figure out what happened, do you?
Damage Rating-
Unconscious- 2/5
Ambulance- 5/5
Blood- 1/5
Breakage- 1/5
Buffoon- 3/5
OOA- 2/5
Total- 14/30
2. Helmet, The Roller Blade. Wilsden 2001
What is it with Tony and house parties in Wilsden? This was the annual Old Years night Shindig at Tanya's, and the lad was in full stuntman mode. It was a freezing cold night, and after drinking up a storm round the pubs of Wilsden, we carried on the festivities, with such japery as breakfast hatch diving (for witch I ended up taking half the skin of me bald head, after a botched landing) and an assortment of other Tom foolery. But the icing on the cake was to occur at the crack of dawn. As I lay in slumber on the sofa, Helmet had come across a pair of roller blades, that belonged to Tanya's teenage daughter. The led, if memory serves, to some kind of dare being laid down. As I said, Danielle must have been around 13 at the time, and didn't (still doesn't) have the foot size of the six foot plus Helmet. This did not prevent him some how managing to squeeze his big old flippers into the youngsters roller blades. After this result, he announced he was going to blade his way home, and we would see him in the pub around lunch time. As I alluded to earlier, it was the coldest festive season in decades, and it was extremely icy underfoot, as the Big Lad found out on the third step down from the front door. I became aware of the unfolding situation when I came around to find a couple of Paramedics hovering over me, looking at my scuffed up cranium. "Are you sure this one doesn't need any attention?" I heard one enquire. I told her I was fine, and they left, with Helmet strapped up in the back of their meat wagon, headed for the Bradford Royal Infirmary to patch up his broken leg. In three places. The lad needs covering in bubble wrap.
Damage Rating-
Unconscious- 0/5
Ambulance- 5/5
Blood- 0/5
Breakage- 5/5
Buffoon- 5/5
OOA- 4/5
Total- 19/30
1. Geevers, The Bunny Hop. Wyke 2006
What on Earth could top Helmets skating folly I hear you ask. Well gather round old chums, and I shall share a story of stupidity that will stretch your perceptions of idiocy. For those of you who don't know Geevers (aka G-Spot) he is a lover of mountain biking and beer, a combination that should never be combined. Unfortunately one dark winters eve, after a good session in the Upper George, a well lubricated Geevers, whilst out walking his dog, happened across some young biking enthusiasts practising a variety of tricks. Next to a electric sub station. "Here lads" piped up our hero, " I'll show you a trick!" he averred. He scrambled up to the top of the sub station, and got one of the lads to pass up his cycle. His aim was to bunny hop of the building, and execute a perfect landing. Now I have had the benefit of bumping into of these young fella's, and have witnessed what happened next, thanks to the lad having videoed the action on his phone. Geevers is stood ready to go, and at the last moment appears to have a moment of clarity, and tries to stop his impossible manoeuvre. But it's too late, and a "Bolloxs" is audible as he tumbles head first off the building. The result? A broken back, no less. A passer by alerts the emergency services, as one of the lads takes his dog home, and breaks the news of the failed stunt to his missus, who is none to pleased. He is strapped into brace and rushed off to hospital. Weeks later, and still not fully recovered, he sneezes, and once more an ambulance is summoned to rescue our glass backed hero. Thankfully, through the passing of time, he has recovered, but sadly our search to re-find the video clip has failed. The night we met the lad, neither of had a phone with blue tooth, so we were unable to attain the footage for your entertainment. which is a shame, as it was well funny.
Damage Rating-
Unconscious- 0/5
Ambulance- 5/5
Blood- 0/5
Breakage- 5/5
Buffoon- 5/5
OOA- 5/5
Total- 20/30
Tuesday, August 03, 2010
That Time Already?
Crikey! Football season seems to come around soon. This upcoming weekend see's the start of the proper football season, as the newly sponsored Npower leagues kick off. This year we start off with an Away day in Shropshire, as the Mighty bantams get their campaign underway with a tough assignment at Shrewsbury. Confindence is high, and after last years slow descent into mediocrity, I am predicting us to be title contenders, and am giving a guarantee of promotion. There, the kiss of death has well and truly been applied. To contend, I reckon Chesterfield and Gillingham will push us hard, with Rotherham United and a Super Barry Conlon inspired Stockport County as dark horses. I can also see Joe Colbeck leading Hereford United on a glorious run into the Conference, joined by a fast failing Southend United.
League One is all about Southampton, according to the experts, and I find it hard to disagree. Charlton and Sheffield Wednesday should be there and abouts, as will the Terriers. Hopefully they will fall short, again, and provide us with the local derby game we have been sorely missing the past few years. The Daggers are a good outside bet, and the MK Dons should contend. At the other end it has to be Rochdale. The bottom tier just doesn't seem right without them. They will be joined by Bournemouth, Hartlepool and Tranmere.
Next up is the Championship, of which Leeds finally managed to rejoin. Of course, being the modest bunch that they are, many are boasting about a run for the play offs. This should provide much entertainment throughout the season, as they battle against an immediate return to whenst they came. Alas, I reckon they should just about steer clear of the drop, their place being taken by Scunthorpe, Watford and a skint Portsmouth. Mind you, I did pick Blackpool for relegation last time around and look what happened to them. At the other end, you have to say that 'Boro look nailed on to claim at the minimum a play off berth, along with the Blades, Forest and Leicester. My pick for the automatic places are Norwich and Ipswich.
So that's my predicament, as the King of the Pixies would say, for the 2010/11 season. Next week I shall give my thoughts on the ponces of the Premier league, in the mean time, i am off to the bookies to see if my crystal ball is spot on, and will earn me a fortune, or more likely consign some more of my hard earned to the share holders of Ladbrokes.
League One is all about Southampton, according to the experts, and I find it hard to disagree. Charlton and Sheffield Wednesday should be there and abouts, as will the Terriers. Hopefully they will fall short, again, and provide us with the local derby game we have been sorely missing the past few years. The Daggers are a good outside bet, and the MK Dons should contend. At the other end it has to be Rochdale. The bottom tier just doesn't seem right without them. They will be joined by Bournemouth, Hartlepool and Tranmere.
Next up is the Championship, of which Leeds finally managed to rejoin. Of course, being the modest bunch that they are, many are boasting about a run for the play offs. This should provide much entertainment throughout the season, as they battle against an immediate return to whenst they came. Alas, I reckon they should just about steer clear of the drop, their place being taken by Scunthorpe, Watford and a skint Portsmouth. Mind you, I did pick Blackpool for relegation last time around and look what happened to them. At the other end, you have to say that 'Boro look nailed on to claim at the minimum a play off berth, along with the Blades, Forest and Leicester. My pick for the automatic places are Norwich and Ipswich.
So that's my predicament, as the King of the Pixies would say, for the 2010/11 season. Next week I shall give my thoughts on the ponces of the Premier league, in the mean time, i am off to the bookies to see if my crystal ball is spot on, and will earn me a fortune, or more likely consign some more of my hard earned to the share holders of Ladbrokes.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Stuffed
Sorry about the lateness, and brevity of the match report below, but didn't get in till late on Wednesday, and spent today in the Lake District, and the stopped off at The Borough in Lancaster for some grub. I know there isn't much call for most of the subscribers to my blog to call in at the Capitol of the red rose county, but if you do, I cannot recommend this place highly enough. A great selection of real ales, Continental lagers and fine spirits is complemented by some excellent grub in the restaurant in the back of the building. Service is great, and the price is reasonable to boot. The only drawback? If you don't get there early doors, the place is likely to be booked up. A finer Inn I can't imagine. I am still stuffed even now, and am off to drag my fat arse up to bed.
Misfire
As you have read over the last few weeks, the Righteous machine has been purring along in top gear, vanquishing the evil cock munchers of the JMF with increasing alacrity. Till last night. We didn't play that bad, in fact we played well, but the MoFo must have laid off the rent boys over the preceding week, as they were up for it from the off. Combine this with our strangely off kilter attacking, and we ended up on the receiving end of a caning, losing by six. At this juncture I would usually bemoan the fact of much cheating, injuries or chronic bad luck, but credit where it's due, the girls in red were well worth their win. Our final pass was ever so slightly off kilter, and we coughed up the ball in bad positions, and were made to pay the price. At the other end of the court a combination of surprisingly competent stopping, and to be honest profligate shooting, saw our late surge sputter, and ultimately fail. C'est la vie.
JMF- Dr Shotgun, Salty Scott, Dead Eye, Luklear War and Jamon
EURO E- Euro Bri, Clogs, The Mercenary, Shouty and Two Scoops
2010 Season
JMF wins - 14
Euro Elite - 14
Draws - 0
JMF- Dr Shotgun, Salty Scott, Dead Eye, Luklear War and Jamon
EURO E- Euro Bri, Clogs, The Mercenary, Shouty and Two Scoops
2010 Season
JMF wins - 14
Euro Elite - 14
Draws - 0
Monday, July 26, 2010
Bendership Time
Hard to believe, but in just 4 weeks the Premeir league kicks of, which means it's once again time for the Bendership dream team. I have all ready set up the mini league, and have notified the usual suspects of the PIN and password via facebook, but if I missed you out, or you have not sold your soul and personal details to FB, let me know and I shall get the necessary details to you, by hook or by crook. This year sees Machine attempt the hat trick, after a late surge saw him pip myself by a paltry seven points. We need ten teams to enter the national league, so feel free to invite any of your homies. Good luck....
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Breaking the Famine
The beer famine that is, as I have now been pint free for over two weeks (not counting the couple on Wednesdays after football) and am off with the slightly broken Crespo, and possibly Big JohnnyM to hook up with the Wakefield chapter of the Bender Squad, namely Sprocket, for a few sherberts. Hopefully the sun will stay out (fat chance) and allow us to quaff our flagons of ale Al Fresco. It will be nice, as apart from Crespo's head wetting session, Benders have been thin on the ground. Economic Downturns tend to have this effect. So I will hopefully have a bit of a thick head this time tomorrow, as I head down to the greasy spoon, and perhaps there may be a bit of buffoonery to report, although the form idiot of the moment has gone to the V Festival in Leeds.
Flamers go Down in Flames
They say cream always rises to the top, and it has, albeit after a protracted time of over six months. Gone are the days when the Mighty Elite would fumble around for the first half hour, and find a mountain to climb, as yet again a scintillating opening period saw the Righteous more or less put the game beyond doubt. Seven up and cruising, the resurgent Two Scoops was again a constant thorn in the MoFo side, as he chased and harried them into numerous mistakes, that were glee fully snapped up. Of course the older legs of the Righteous Euro Boys had there weekly swoon at the three quarter point, but we had enough money in the bank to make sure Gaylords final efforts were to no avail. So we find ourselves on top of the world, looking down on creation for the first time since God knows when, and on current form things are looking rosy, although we need to guard against complacency.
JMF- King Dave, Big Phil, Dead Eye, Luklear War and Jamon
EURO E- Euro Bri, Clogs, The Mercenary, Shouty and Two Scoops
2010 Season
JMF wins - 13
Euro Elite - 14
Draws - 0
JMF- King Dave, Big Phil, Dead Eye, Luklear War and Jamon
EURO E- Euro Bri, Clogs, The Mercenary, Shouty and Two Scoops
2010 Season
JMF wins - 13
Euro Elite - 14
Draws - 0
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
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.
Friday, July 16, 2010
Tardy
Crikey, this has taken some posting. First up was the unexpected injury to Crespo, on Thursday, which meant I didn't leave the B.R.I. (Bradford Royal Infirmary to those not from round these parts) till after 10 p.m. Then on Friday the Elster was feeling frisky, and who am I to refuse the might of the Brister lovin'? Saturday was a combination of the night before and middle age, which meant I fell asleep at 8:30 and didn't rise till the next morning, and Sunday is Sunday, so nowt happening there. Monday? I was just bone idle, and couldn't be arsed. Much as now, but I konw a couple of the injured and those unable to show, want to know the Wood score from last Wednesday. We spanked 'em good and proper. Two Scoops was on fire, and even a returning Dead Eye, and more surprisingly Dr Shotgun, couldn't halt him. All square once more. I shall endeavour to be more punctual whit this weeks report.
JMF- Dr Shotgun, Big Phil, Dead Eye, Luklear War and Jamon
EURO E- Euro Bri, Clogs, The Mercenary, Shouty and Two Scoops
2010 Season
JMF wins - 13
Euro Elite - 13
Draws - 0
JMF- Dr Shotgun, Big Phil, Dead Eye, Luklear War and Jamon
EURO E- Euro Bri, Clogs, The Mercenary, Shouty and Two Scoops
2010 Season
JMF wins - 13
Euro Elite - 13
Draws - 0
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Ode to Der Wristband
I wandered lonely as a Lowen
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the TSV,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
1860 saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
Apologies to poetry fans for defacing Wordworths famous ode to the Lake District. This picture is of Der Wristband overlooking the vista of Lake Windermere.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Holland or Spain?
Pancakes or Paella? Shmoke or Sangria? The Ketchup Song or No Limits? I'll be honest here and say I don't really care, but it would be nice to see all the so called "experts" who get all hard in their pants over the Spanish style of footie, end up with Edam on their faces (although, to a man they have got just about everything wrong at this tournament). Still, it is hard to get excited about the Oranje, as their side is not the most exciting side to ever grace a football field. Let's hope for a good game, but my suspicion is 1-0 to the bull killers. Anyway, Lee Dixon is just starting to drone on, and Alan Shearer has just stated the first of several blindingly obvious statements. The big surprise of tonight's game is if the Geordie Legend actually says something remotely original (could be worse, could be stuck with Adrian Chiles).
WTF?
Sorry for the delay in posting this weeks Wood result, but it has taken me this long to fathom out just how the Dickens we managed to lose. With twenty minutes left, we were all but home and dry, with a five goal cushion, and playing superbly. But it was a a close evening, and the arid conditions began to take their toll on a team that had myself just returned from a blow out in the Lake District, Big JohnnyM and Clogs fresh from a five day long stag do in Ibiza and a chap who hadn't played five a side for a couple of years. Even the Mercenary was slowed by the heat, and the younger MoFoers, in particular King Dave and Luklear War, took there chance and earned their team a most surprising two goal victory. The Mercenary and I withdrew to the Villagers for a post match post mortem, and came to an astonishing conclusion, and one that after a few days thought I have to agree on. It was all down to Shouty. His absence robbed us of our destroyer, and without a doubt fittest, and youngest member, who as the rest of us wilted, would more than likely have kicked us to victory. So we threw away a golden opportunity to carve out a lead, but with the steel of our silky side due to return, I reckon our ascent in the race for 2010 has merely been postponed, rather dealt a terminal blow.
PS Crespo showed up sporting the tightest shirt ever seen, which also probably got the Gaylords all worked up, and also contributed to their win.
JMF- Crespo, Big Phil, King Dave, Luklear War and Jamon
EURO E- Euro Bri, Clogs, The Mercenary, Big JohnnyM and Big Phils Neighbour
2010 Season
JMF wins - 13
Euro Elite - 12
Draws - 0
PS Crespo showed up sporting the tightest shirt ever seen, which also probably got the Gaylords all worked up, and also contributed to their win.
JMF- Crespo, Big Phil, King Dave, Luklear War and Jamon
EURO E- Euro Bri, Clogs, The Mercenary, Big JohnnyM and Big Phils Neighbour
2010 Season
JMF wins - 13
Euro Elite - 12
Draws - 0
Wednesday, July 07, 2010
Actung! Bender Alarmbereitschaft!
As mentioned in an earlier post, the Bundesliga fixtures were announced on the 5/7/10, and we got the draw we wanted. After missing out last year, due to it's proximity to Xmas, we have our Berlin trip. They are playing in the Olympic stadium, which hosted the 2006 World Cup final no less, on the weekend of the 29/4-02/05 2011. The perfect date, just as the weather is starting to warm up. It is also the third from last game of the season, which almost always means the game is on Sunday afternoon. Let's hope there are no volcanic eruptions this time around. Have looked into flights, and they are coming up at £148 flying from Manchester, via Dusseldorf, departing at the unholy time of 08:00 in the morning. Still, it does give us all day Friday in Berlin, so I am sure we can drag our arses out of bed early. The alternative flies at 15:25, but we don't hit the German capitol till eight in the evening, which wastes a day, in my opinion. I am going to check out Expedia to see if it is cheaper to combine a flight and hotel, and will also search some hotel sites for a price on digs. Watch this space.
Tuesday, July 06, 2010
Substitue Stupidity
I am returned in one piece from the Lake District, whence I undertook some Bendering with me old muckers Queso, Gster and Malky. I trundled up to the Villager to meet up with them, and catch the early part of the footie, when i got too wondering "Why have they got in touch with me, out of the blue?" I haven't seen the Gster for nearly a year, and I hadn't clapped eyes on Mal for a good two and a half. Then the penny dropped. The scoundrels are down a man, and need a fella to keep the room price down! Of course when I brought this little matter up, I was met with a furtive glance from each, and then informed, after a pregnant pause, that I was being daft, and I was down to go from the off. I remained sceptical, but the sun was out, I had money in my pocket, and a thirst for beer, so I let the matter drop......
Until we checked into our hotel, which was booked in the names of Kent, Dodsworth, Chambers and Stoney! I was a substitute! Still I don't blame them, as I rarely say no to a piss up anyway. The evening was very pleasant. I was a little unused to be out with a gang of golfers, but they were all good company, and it was grand to be among the youngest again. Until we went to the local night club, at which point I felt like a hundred year old geezer again. Malky was great value, the boy owned that dance floor and the evening passed without buffoonery till we left the joint. Queso wanted to give me points for jumping butt naked into Lake Windermere, even though it was his idea in the first place, and he was all for it, before his vagina over ruled his head. But he didn't stay idiot free for long, as he earned himself a seven point haul. He thinks it was harsh, but just read what he got up to and make up your own mind.
As you may, or may not know, Bowness is not that big, so we decided to walk back to our hotel, which was a good 800 metres or so from the club we had just left. After about 10 paces, our resident grand fromage, took a turn up the hill. "It's this way!" he announced. The three of us pointed out to him that we were no where near our turn, too which we were issued a volley of insults, calling into question our mental capabilities, sexual orientation and physical attributes. "Tell you what it is," he opined finally "you can all suck my dick when I am back in my room, with my feet up after you have been wandering the streets for two hours!" as he trudged off up a sparsely populated hill. Malky thought we should go after him, but me and Gster agreed that it was the only way he would learn. Before I continue this tale of Tom foolery, I best mention that our digs were literally ten metres off the main drag, so that if you didn't pass it almost immediately it would indicate that one was going the wrong way. Not our kinky haired hero. He tromped up a hill to the very top, before he finally accepted the error of his ways. Alas, he then looked down the hill he would have to now descend, didn't fancy it, and decided that another road, that he had never been along before, was an obvious short cut, and proceeded to get himself even more lost. He confesses at point, having to lay down for a rest, and of vainly calling out our names, in hope of rescue. After this only he shall ever know what, or even where he got to, but suffice to say, he finally pitched up at our accommodation nearly two and a half hours after we had arrived. But that is still not the end of it. He burst into our rooms, and started in on one how it was all our fault, we never should have left, and that he was advertising for new friends, and finally that we were not to bother entering an application. It was a valiant effort to mask his own idiocy, but only succeeded in earning himself extra points.
I joined in on the stupidity the next morning, earning three points for a serious case of foot in mouth. But before I action these points onto the 2010 standings, there is another big scoring effort, registered the Saturday before on Crespo's head wetting shindig. Step forward Shouty, for another seven point haul. After a night on the lash in Shipley, and after that Bingley, it came time for the lad to get himself a pizza and a cab home. But for some reason known only to himself, he decided to get out of his cab a mile away from home, and take a short cut through the woods. It was in these woods that he took a wrong turn, stumbled, and landed head first in a thicket of stinging nettles. This left him stung from top to bottom, in a forest, gently sobbing as he ate what was left of his pizza pie. Watch this one, he can never truly be ruled out of contention...
PS. Nearly forgot this one. I have been reliably informed that Big JohnnyM has entered the fray, after getting lost in his hotel in Ibiza, dressed in only his boxer shorts and vest. Combine this with his attempt to piss in his closet, and you get six points.
Updated Buffoon Standings
Until we checked into our hotel, which was booked in the names of Kent, Dodsworth, Chambers and Stoney! I was a substitute! Still I don't blame them, as I rarely say no to a piss up anyway. The evening was very pleasant. I was a little unused to be out with a gang of golfers, but they were all good company, and it was grand to be among the youngest again. Until we went to the local night club, at which point I felt like a hundred year old geezer again. Malky was great value, the boy owned that dance floor and the evening passed without buffoonery till we left the joint. Queso wanted to give me points for jumping butt naked into Lake Windermere, even though it was his idea in the first place, and he was all for it, before his vagina over ruled his head. But he didn't stay idiot free for long, as he earned himself a seven point haul. He thinks it was harsh, but just read what he got up to and make up your own mind.
As you may, or may not know, Bowness is not that big, so we decided to walk back to our hotel, which was a good 800 metres or so from the club we had just left. After about 10 paces, our resident grand fromage, took a turn up the hill. "It's this way!" he announced. The three of us pointed out to him that we were no where near our turn, too which we were issued a volley of insults, calling into question our mental capabilities, sexual orientation and physical attributes. "Tell you what it is," he opined finally "you can all suck my dick when I am back in my room, with my feet up after you have been wandering the streets for two hours!" as he trudged off up a sparsely populated hill. Malky thought we should go after him, but me and Gster agreed that it was the only way he would learn. Before I continue this tale of Tom foolery, I best mention that our digs were literally ten metres off the main drag, so that if you didn't pass it almost immediately it would indicate that one was going the wrong way. Not our kinky haired hero. He tromped up a hill to the very top, before he finally accepted the error of his ways. Alas, he then looked down the hill he would have to now descend, didn't fancy it, and decided that another road, that he had never been along before, was an obvious short cut, and proceeded to get himself even more lost. He confesses at point, having to lay down for a rest, and of vainly calling out our names, in hope of rescue. After this only he shall ever know what, or even where he got to, but suffice to say, he finally pitched up at our accommodation nearly two and a half hours after we had arrived. But that is still not the end of it. He burst into our rooms, and started in on one how it was all our fault, we never should have left, and that he was advertising for new friends, and finally that we were not to bother entering an application. It was a valiant effort to mask his own idiocy, but only succeeded in earning himself extra points.
I joined in on the stupidity the next morning, earning three points for a serious case of foot in mouth. But before I action these points onto the 2010 standings, there is another big scoring effort, registered the Saturday before on Crespo's head wetting shindig. Step forward Shouty, for another seven point haul. After a night on the lash in Shipley, and after that Bingley, it came time for the lad to get himself a pizza and a cab home. But for some reason known only to himself, he decided to get out of his cab a mile away from home, and take a short cut through the woods. It was in these woods that he took a wrong turn, stumbled, and landed head first in a thicket of stinging nettles. This left him stung from top to bottom, in a forest, gently sobbing as he ate what was left of his pizza pie. Watch this one, he can never truly be ruled out of contention...
PS. Nearly forgot this one. I have been reliably informed that Big JohnnyM has entered the fray, after getting lost in his hotel in Ibiza, dressed in only his boxer shorts and vest. Combine this with his attempt to piss in his closet, and you get six points.
Updated Buffoon Standings
- Trigger 50 points
- Child Catcher 28 points
- Euro Bri 26 points
- El Grande Queso 21 points
- Crespo 13 points
- Shouty 10 points
- Big JohnnyM 6 points
- Gareeeeeee 4 points
- Tony Helmet 4 points
- Sprocket 3 points
- Dr Shotgun 3 points
- Mikey D 3 Points
- John the Don 3 points
- Dessi 2 points
- San 1 Point
- Major 1 point
Saturday, July 03, 2010
Something Different
Most of our jaunts, sojourns, capers, adventures and general piss ups are almost exclusively undertaken in big cities, which offer a wide variety of bars, restaurants, museums, places of culture and strip clubs. So today will make a refreshing change, as I take off with old school members Queso, Mallky and Gster to the idyllic sloped and vistas of the Lake District. It is an old pals stag night, and for reasons best known to himself, he has chosen his last stand at the town of Bowness. Wouldn't have been my first choice, but then again I went to Portsmouth for my farewell to freedom shindig, so what the chuff do I know? In fact, I quite like the sound of it. Was hoping for better weather (that's the UK for you) but getting lashed up round of few country pubs sounds like it could be a lark. The big worry is the lack of any of the usual Buffoon suspects, who are good to deflect away from one's own idiocy. Could be some points I fear. Any how, I am off to prepare for the festivities, so will catch you up on Monday, hopefully with some decent tales.
Thursday, July 01, 2010
New 1860 Kit
After a couple of seasons of camp tom foolery, Der Lowen have got their shit back on track with a most excellent kit for the upcoming season. Farewell to the over sized gay lion out of the Wizard of Oz plastered all don the side of the shirt. Hello traditional blue and white stripes, in an old school understated style. Of course it is unfortunate that the play in an almost identical shirt as the muppets of Huddersfield town, and the swarthy cheaters of Argentina, but I do like it. The away effort is pretty cool as well.
Coming up on the fifth of July is the Bundesliga Fixture list, at which point I shall start planning our annual excursion to watch the lads live. We have lost the chance of a Hamburg jaunt, St Pauli went and got themselves promoted, but with Hertha Berlin's relegation, there are not one, but two chances to head for Berlin. One of these matches, preferably the Hertha game, will take priority, depending on the dates. If they are both held early in the season, it is difficult as everybody has usually used up their holiday allocation. A return to Dusseldorf is a possibility, but I prefer new destinations, even though the home of Fortuna is a blinding party town. saying that VFL Bochum ply their trade in the same region, so a return can not be ruled out. The most left field choice would be FC Erzgebirge Aue, who hail from the former East German town of Aue, near the border with the Czech Republic. With a population of 18,000, it is comparable in size to Keighley, and is an old mining town renowned for cutlery. Interesting. The other major option is FSV Frankfurt, who like 1860 share a massive stadium with a more celebrated rival team, Eintract. The ground is a 50,000 plus capacity beast, used during the 2006 World Cup.
Coming up on the fifth of July is the Bundesliga Fixture list, at which point I shall start planning our annual excursion to watch the lads live. We have lost the chance of a Hamburg jaunt, St Pauli went and got themselves promoted, but with Hertha Berlin's relegation, there are not one, but two chances to head for Berlin. One of these matches, preferably the Hertha game, will take priority, depending on the dates. If they are both held early in the season, it is difficult as everybody has usually used up their holiday allocation. A return to Dusseldorf is a possibility, but I prefer new destinations, even though the home of Fortuna is a blinding party town. saying that VFL Bochum ply their trade in the same region, so a return can not be ruled out. The most left field choice would be FC Erzgebirge Aue, who hail from the former East German town of Aue, near the border with the Czech Republic. With a population of 18,000, it is comparable in size to Keighley, and is an old mining town renowned for cutlery. Interesting. The other major option is FSV Frankfurt, who like 1860 share a massive stadium with a more celebrated rival team, Eintract. The ground is a 50,000 plus capacity beast, used during the 2006 World Cup.
Late Surge Stemmed
The problem with the righteous Elite has always been the tendency to start all the Hollywood stuff, instead of driving home our advantage. It has cost us dear before, and last night it nearly did again. This time is wasn't due to us trying to emulate Brazil, more down to the oppressive heat, and a massive lack of fitness. But hold firm we did, and JMF were left near tears as the bell sounded as the searched in vain for an equaliser. Thrice they came back from a three goal plus deficit, and even drew level, yet time and again the boys in white found that extra little in the tank to pull clear once more. Jamon wailed that they were robbed, as he always does, but the fact remains that after six months of toil and tears, the scores are back to all square. The shirt lifters may cry about the injuries to two of their stalwarts, but time and again we have provided them adequate cover, so that excuse just won't wash.
JMF- Crespo, Big Phil, King dave, Luklear War and Jamon
EURO E- Euro Bri, Clogs, The Mercenary, Shouty and Two Scoops
2010 Season
JMF wins - 12
Euro Elite - 12
Draws - 0
JMF- Crespo, Big Phil, King dave, Luklear War and Jamon
EURO E- Euro Bri, Clogs, The Mercenary, Shouty and Two Scoops
2010 Season
JMF wins - 12
Euro Elite - 12
Draws - 0
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
1860 Around the World
Have been meaning to get round to this post for ages, as both myself and Sprocket have continued to spread the 1860 word around the globe. I will add them to the on-line gallery, that can be accessed in the top left hand corner, but have decided to add a few on here. Above we can see Der Mighty Lowen on the pull in Columbus zoo, as he tries to some lazy tart too fetch his tea. But seeing as it was a zoo, and she was in a cage, a chunk of raw antelope never materialised.
Can you see it yet? The W-band plays hide and seek in the Beer Cave in Tiffin, Ohio. Strange things are afoot down the Circle K, to paraphrase a famous-ish movie. Things were chilly in the walk in fridge.
In this shot, Castlefords favourite 1860 fan has the Greek port of Thessaloniki as his back drop. This port town is Greece's second largest city, and quite frankly, judging by this snap looks a bit of a dump. And I know dumps, having to cross Bradford City centre on numerous occasions.
Sticking with an aquatic theme, this is a shot that should have been posted a while back, as the W-band catches some rays by the banks of the Rhine, during our Volcano interrupted jaunt to Dusseldorf. For some reason, this is the only photo during this sojourn. May have something to do with the vast amount of ale consumed.
Has the law finally won? Is this the end of Euro? Is my arse to become the property of a psychotic criminal with a foot longer? Thankfully none of the above. No this is me in the cell used for the film Shawshank Redemption. It was was filmed at the old Ohio State Reformatory in Mansfield. A most spooky place.
We have here two for the price of one, both taken on Sprockets recent Summer holiday. He killed two birds with one stone, catching the ferry from Fuerteventura, pictured in the bottom frame, to Playa Blanca on Lanzarote, in the frame on top. This about sums him up, as he was too tight to fly back for a separate jaunt to capture a different picture. Ten out of ten, though, for remembering to pack it in the first place.
Finally, what better way to wrap up a post documenting the actions of a couple of clowns, than with the most famous one in the world, good ol' Ronald McDonald himself. Who would have thought the Red headed jester would have heart that's blau? This statue (can you use that description for something made out of plastic?) guards the food court at Schipol Airport near Amsterdam.
We should have more to post, but Geevers forgot to pack his when he went for a break on the Yorkshire coast, and Shouty has lost his. Again. If anybody is passing through Bavaria and spies one for sale, can they please purchase one for the Right Honourable, who will gladly put it through expenses. I am off to the Lake District this weekend and will hopefully get some scenic snaps, and we are still hoping to get to the Brussels Beer festival in September. Of course you don't need to travel anywhere to join in the gospel, as anything stupid, daft or weird will be considered for publishing.
Monday, June 28, 2010
African Post Mortem
Whimpers instead of roars, as yet again the Three Lions succumbed tamely in the face of what appeared, on paper to be an inferior opponent. Instead of Sven or Steve, it was Fabio's turn to stand forlornly on the touchline, as the best footballers of our nation played like a bunch of Sunday Leaguers, who had drunk far too much the night before, and staggered around as if in the grip of an almighty hangover. Que sera, sera. But where do we go from here? As I have intimated all ready, we could be coached by the Son of God, the one and only Jesus Christ our Saviour and Lord, and I still suspect our defence would play as if burdened with lead boots. And all this, over the last eight years at least, while we have been blessed with the greatest crop of players since the late 1960's. Now I am old enough to remember when we were the perennial under dogs at major tournaments, and to be fair we usually exited at about the same stage of World Cups/European Championships, but apart from Germany in 1988, it was always with spirit and rank bad luck that our hopes dashed. So where did it all go wrong?
My theory is that there are probably too many good players in our side. Think about it. Stevie G is the main man at Liverpool. Wazza carries Man United, at the moment, almost alone. And the current Premier League champions have based their team of the last decade around John Terry and Frank Lampard. Add to this mix the considerable egos of the Cole boys, Ashley and Joe, and you have a team that to my mind, and eyes, is staffed by players who can't but help play for themselves. How many times over the last few weeks have we seen one go for glory instead of playing the obvious pass? Or bomb forward, jettisoning any defensive responsibility? A lot, is the unfortunate answer. And yesterday afternoon, we were found out by a team that was well coached, had a game plan, and played for each other. To be quite brutal, we were given a lesson in how to play at this level, in a game of this importance. One word of caution to the Krauts mind. It was only nine years ago since we did the same to you, and look what we won. Just wait till all your bright young things start to make astronomical amounts of money, sign for big clubs, and start to believe all the things that their hanger-ons tell them about how great they are. My suspicion is that this could their one and only shot before avarice and hubris take a grip of these young men.
But that is for our Teutonic cousins too worry about, not us. Our problems seem to be a bit deeper, as apart from Rooney, and possibly Milner and Glen Johnson, our current starting XI is starting to look more than a little long in the tooth. John Terry looked way out of his depth against the younger mobile German forward line (Klose excepted) and after his fling with a team mates bird, his outburst against the management and general loathsomeness, needs to thanked for his service and put out to pasture. The Gerrard/Lapard question needs answering. And the solution is simple. Frank you are 31, and let's be honest, never looked like you do in a Chelsea shirt for us, so thanks, you've been a right laugh, and good bye. That is unless good old Stevie G finally fesses up, that he doesn't much care for England any more and does a Paul Scholes. Who could blame him? The best central midfielder we have had since Bryan Robson, and three succesive managers play him out on the left. James, Barry, Heskey, Defoe, King, Carrager, Wright-Phillips. Come in. Your time is up.
So that leaves Rooney. How can a man who shreds the best defences in European club football and was the second highest goal scorer in qualification throughout the Continent, become Barry Conlon? He just didn't seem to enjoy one second of the tournament, and was a passenger in every game. He is a massive talent, and we should start by building a team to his strengths, as he provides our best hope over the next four years. Surround him with young hungry players, who actually want to pull on that shirt and play for each other. Let's take a chance on the next Euro's by picking a squad that may fail, but should peak in time for Brazil in 2014. With players such as Adam Johnson, Jack's Rodwell and Wilkshire, Joe Hart, Michael Dawson and Theo Walcott. If you could convince Gerrard too hang around, we might actually be able too look forward at last, instead of just regurgitating the same formation, players and most importantly results that we have suffered through since that night in Munich nine years ago. And the first person to say we need to recall Michael Owen gets a poke in the eye.
As for Fabio, the jury is out. He must shoulder a portion of the blame, but this squad is, for the most part, the same one that did for his predecessors. My gut instinct is that he is not the man for the job. After seeing his side fail so miserably, I can't believe he would want to tarnish his legacy with yet more failure, and would bottle out of taking the tough decisions needed to rebuild not only this teams reputation, but it's fragile confidence as well. So, nice work if you can get it, here is a big massive wodge of cash, and off you go. As for his successor, I am not convinced by Harry Redknapp, whose wheeler dealer image is appealing, but I fear he would err on the side of caution, and stick too the core of the side which has let us down time and again. No I would like to see Roy Hodgson take the job on. He has managed big club and all the egos that go with it at Inter Milan, but more importantly has also got tournament experience, having taken Switzerland too the world cup last 16 in 1994, and qualified them for the Euros two years later. Apart from these two, I wouldn't touch an Englishmen with a ten foot barge pole. And for anyone who thinks Beck's is the man for the job, poke yourself in the eye.
So, those are my views on what went wrong, and how, hopefully it can be rectified. I may well be talking out of my hat, but as the cliche goes, "It's a game of opinions" and those are mine. But let's not be too down beat. It could always be worse. You could be Italian or French.......
PS
I am hoping for a Argentina-Holland final with the Argies lifting the trophy. I know I should hate the cheating little git, but I am a sucker for a scoundrel, and Diego may well be the biggest one on the face of the planet.
My theory is that there are probably too many good players in our side. Think about it. Stevie G is the main man at Liverpool. Wazza carries Man United, at the moment, almost alone. And the current Premier League champions have based their team of the last decade around John Terry and Frank Lampard. Add to this mix the considerable egos of the Cole boys, Ashley and Joe, and you have a team that to my mind, and eyes, is staffed by players who can't but help play for themselves. How many times over the last few weeks have we seen one go for glory instead of playing the obvious pass? Or bomb forward, jettisoning any defensive responsibility? A lot, is the unfortunate answer. And yesterday afternoon, we were found out by a team that was well coached, had a game plan, and played for each other. To be quite brutal, we were given a lesson in how to play at this level, in a game of this importance. One word of caution to the Krauts mind. It was only nine years ago since we did the same to you, and look what we won. Just wait till all your bright young things start to make astronomical amounts of money, sign for big clubs, and start to believe all the things that their hanger-ons tell them about how great they are. My suspicion is that this could their one and only shot before avarice and hubris take a grip of these young men.
But that is for our Teutonic cousins too worry about, not us. Our problems seem to be a bit deeper, as apart from Rooney, and possibly Milner and Glen Johnson, our current starting XI is starting to look more than a little long in the tooth. John Terry looked way out of his depth against the younger mobile German forward line (Klose excepted) and after his fling with a team mates bird, his outburst against the management and general loathsomeness, needs to thanked for his service and put out to pasture. The Gerrard/Lapard question needs answering. And the solution is simple. Frank you are 31, and let's be honest, never looked like you do in a Chelsea shirt for us, so thanks, you've been a right laugh, and good bye. That is unless good old Stevie G finally fesses up, that he doesn't much care for England any more and does a Paul Scholes. Who could blame him? The best central midfielder we have had since Bryan Robson, and three succesive managers play him out on the left. James, Barry, Heskey, Defoe, King, Carrager, Wright-Phillips. Come in. Your time is up.
So that leaves Rooney. How can a man who shreds the best defences in European club football and was the second highest goal scorer in qualification throughout the Continent, become Barry Conlon? He just didn't seem to enjoy one second of the tournament, and was a passenger in every game. He is a massive talent, and we should start by building a team to his strengths, as he provides our best hope over the next four years. Surround him with young hungry players, who actually want to pull on that shirt and play for each other. Let's take a chance on the next Euro's by picking a squad that may fail, but should peak in time for Brazil in 2014. With players such as Adam Johnson, Jack's Rodwell and Wilkshire, Joe Hart, Michael Dawson and Theo Walcott. If you could convince Gerrard too hang around, we might actually be able too look forward at last, instead of just regurgitating the same formation, players and most importantly results that we have suffered through since that night in Munich nine years ago. And the first person to say we need to recall Michael Owen gets a poke in the eye.
As for Fabio, the jury is out. He must shoulder a portion of the blame, but this squad is, for the most part, the same one that did for his predecessors. My gut instinct is that he is not the man for the job. After seeing his side fail so miserably, I can't believe he would want to tarnish his legacy with yet more failure, and would bottle out of taking the tough decisions needed to rebuild not only this teams reputation, but it's fragile confidence as well. So, nice work if you can get it, here is a big massive wodge of cash, and off you go. As for his successor, I am not convinced by Harry Redknapp, whose wheeler dealer image is appealing, but I fear he would err on the side of caution, and stick too the core of the side which has let us down time and again. No I would like to see Roy Hodgson take the job on. He has managed big club and all the egos that go with it at Inter Milan, but more importantly has also got tournament experience, having taken Switzerland too the world cup last 16 in 1994, and qualified them for the Euros two years later. Apart from these two, I wouldn't touch an Englishmen with a ten foot barge pole. And for anyone who thinks Beck's is the man for the job, poke yourself in the eye.
So, those are my views on what went wrong, and how, hopefully it can be rectified. I may well be talking out of my hat, but as the cliche goes, "It's a game of opinions" and those are mine. But let's not be too down beat. It could always be worse. You could be Italian or French.......
PS
I am hoping for a Argentina-Holland final with the Argies lifting the trophy. I know I should hate the cheating little git, but I am a sucker for a scoundrel, and Diego may well be the biggest one on the face of the planet.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Crunch Time
Fifteen hours remain till kick off, and it is hard to comprehend that England could be out before the serious shit gets started. Can they pull off the victory that will see them advance? I am the eternal optimist, but even I am full of trepidation after the inept performance of last Friday night. Play like that again, and forget it. But, and it is a big but, I think if they do manage to slip out of this group, they could go far. Unless the get the Germans in the next round, which seems unlikely as if they both both prevail tomorrow they will win their groups, the draw opens up till the semi-finals. A last 16 game against either Serbia or Ghana, followed by a quarter final, against either South Korea or Uruguay does not fill one with fear. So for the record, I am predicting a cagey 2-1 win tomorrow, and a run to last four at a minimum. Please.
One good thing about the Slovenia game though is the fact that the BBC are showing it. Shouty thinks it is a lucky omen, and for all I know he may be right, but it will be great not to have to listen to that muppet Chiles crack a bunch of unfunny jokes to a panel of "experts" who then look at him like he is an idiot. And let's not forget Clive Tildsley, quite possibly the worst commentator in the world. Ever. He commentates like he has a pineapple stuck up his arse. Most off putting. I know the Beeb has Alan Shearer, whose total lack of charisma, and ability to say absolutely nothing of wit and/or imagination, is quite frankly remarkable, but they leave the commercial channels coverage dead in the water.
COME ON ENGLAND!!!!!!
One good thing about the Slovenia game though is the fact that the BBC are showing it. Shouty thinks it is a lucky omen, and for all I know he may be right, but it will be great not to have to listen to that muppet Chiles crack a bunch of unfunny jokes to a panel of "experts" who then look at him like he is an idiot. And let's not forget Clive Tildsley, quite possibly the worst commentator in the world. Ever. He commentates like he has a pineapple stuck up his arse. Most off putting. I know the Beeb has Alan Shearer, whose total lack of charisma, and ability to say absolutely nothing of wit and/or imagination, is quite frankly remarkable, but they leave the commercial channels coverage dead in the water.
COME ON ENGLAND!!!!!!
Summer Stupidity
The sun has finally come out, and as the temperature goes up, so follows the idiocy. Firstly a catch up from FA Cup final day. Not a lot went down, but Helmet earned himself three points for losing £70 on the bus on the way into town. He had too wait outside Spoons for me to arrive, and for his missus to fetch him some replacement dosh, of which she was not impressed. I also reaped a point for failing to grasp Helmets inept "May the Fourth be with you" joke.
Fast forward to England's first game of the World Cup. After sinking a load of lager, we decided to chase them down with a load of Jaegermeisters. This resulted in me doing something that I have not done in decades. I went home and pissed all over the landing. The Elster was not impressed, let me tell you, and the only thing that stops me scoring the maximum points was that it wasn't in my wardrobe, bed or even worse, our lasses hair. I fully accept the six points that have been agreed. These can combined with the couple of points I earned for purchasing a pack of boxer shorts, that were on sale, with out checking the labels, or colour. I got them home, to find I had bought a pair of lime green, spandex shorts, that as the picture below reveal, are not very flattering. Another point. This got me worried, that with the demise of the usual suspects, that I may yet catch Trigger, and have to award myself the Maillott Jaune of 2010. But more stupidity was afoot, that was not yet known, but has since been brought to my attention.
The Favelas of Rio. The townships of Soweto. The projects of the Bronx. These well documented crime zones are joined in infamy with the wild borough of Gilstead. Why? According to the Child Catcher, it was here that he was mugged by a ribald gang of ragamuffins, who relieved him of his wallet, phone, and keys, and left him nursing a few bruises. Well that is his side of the tale, so anything may well have happened, as he was too arsed to remember exactly what happened. Queso thought this may have been worthy of a perfect "10" but considering what he did next, it was agreed that seven was to be awarded. "What Happened next?" I hear you wonder. Well the young fella and Queso went down to Birmingham on some business, and after a hard days graft decided to let down their hair. After several sherberts, Charlie staggered up to the bar, and ordered the largest cocktail that they served, and slopped it all over his shirt. This meant, combined with being inebriated, he was refused entry to the night club they were after visiting. Figuring he needed to sort himself out, he went in search of a "livener" and approached the first chap of colour he came across. This chap told him he could sort him out with what he wanted, and the Catcher handed over a crisp £20 note to this complete stranger, who proceeded to place cash in his pocket, and scarper off down the road, at a rapid rate of knots. This alone may not have scored him the max, but the fact he tried to palm some of the blame off onto Queso earns him "dix points." Perhaps the title is not a forgone conclusion after all....
Updated Buffoon Standings
Fast forward to England's first game of the World Cup. After sinking a load of lager, we decided to chase them down with a load of Jaegermeisters. This resulted in me doing something that I have not done in decades. I went home and pissed all over the landing. The Elster was not impressed, let me tell you, and the only thing that stops me scoring the maximum points was that it wasn't in my wardrobe, bed or even worse, our lasses hair. I fully accept the six points that have been agreed. These can combined with the couple of points I earned for purchasing a pack of boxer shorts, that were on sale, with out checking the labels, or colour. I got them home, to find I had bought a pair of lime green, spandex shorts, that as the picture below reveal, are not very flattering. Another point. This got me worried, that with the demise of the usual suspects, that I may yet catch Trigger, and have to award myself the Maillott Jaune of 2010. But more stupidity was afoot, that was not yet known, but has since been brought to my attention.
The Favelas of Rio. The townships of Soweto. The projects of the Bronx. These well documented crime zones are joined in infamy with the wild borough of Gilstead. Why? According to the Child Catcher, it was here that he was mugged by a ribald gang of ragamuffins, who relieved him of his wallet, phone, and keys, and left him nursing a few bruises. Well that is his side of the tale, so anything may well have happened, as he was too arsed to remember exactly what happened. Queso thought this may have been worthy of a perfect "10" but considering what he did next, it was agreed that seven was to be awarded. "What Happened next?" I hear you wonder. Well the young fella and Queso went down to Birmingham on some business, and after a hard days graft decided to let down their hair. After several sherberts, Charlie staggered up to the bar, and ordered the largest cocktail that they served, and slopped it all over his shirt. This meant, combined with being inebriated, he was refused entry to the night club they were after visiting. Figuring he needed to sort himself out, he went in search of a "livener" and approached the first chap of colour he came across. This chap told him he could sort him out with what he wanted, and the Catcher handed over a crisp £20 note to this complete stranger, who proceeded to place cash in his pocket, and scarper off down the road, at a rapid rate of knots. This alone may not have scored him the max, but the fact he tried to palm some of the blame off onto Queso earns him "dix points." Perhaps the title is not a forgone conclusion after all....
Updated Buffoon Standings
- Trigger 50 points
- Child Catcher 28 points
- Euro Bri 23 points
- El Grande Queso 14 points
- Crespo 13 points
- Gareeeeeee 4 points
- Tony Helmet 4 points
- Sprocket 3 points
- Dr Shotgun 3 points
- Mikey D 3 Points
- John the Don 3 points
- Shouty 3 points
- Dessi 2 points
- San 1 Point
- Major 1 point
Monday, June 21, 2010
Buffoon Update
I was hoping to do an update on the race for Le Maillot Jaune 2010, which is heating up nicely by the way, but I have just clocked the time, and do not have enough time to get it caught up. I am finishing work early tomorrow, and will catch up on all the nonsense, of which there is a bit, then.
Stateside Shenanigans
Now that I am finally turned around, sleep wise anyway, I have decided to to write up a brief-ish post about my recent jaunt Stateside. most of my trip was family orientated, it was my Grandmothers 90th birthday, but I did manage to escape on an occasion or two too get out on the lash. Big Franks favourite watering hole was the American Veterans club (Am-Vets as it is locally known) which was very nice. Cheap beer, and plenty of TV's too watch sports. The only down side was the proliferation of Sabre Tooth Tigers in the place. "The what?" I hear you cry. These creatures are like Cougars, but in their sixties. Which is quite frightening for a young 40 something such as myself. They were all very nice ladies, but being chatted up by a pissed up granny is to be quite frank, a bit creepy. I even had to take the Elster down one night, just so I could drink in peace. Other nights out down the Clover Club (probably Tiffins best bar) and McGowans were far tamer. by comparison. Thankfully I managed to keep the Buffoonery to a minimum (see above) and managed not to nearly kill my self in the local swimming pool. Saying that, I was over whelmed by a gang of punk ass kids down the local watering hole (as in swimming not drinking) when I tried to lounge in a massive inner tube. The little swines kept tipping it over, and eventually I had to concede defeat. and head for shore.
We did a few a day trips, all in Ohio. Columbus, the state capital, looks like it could be worth a more prolonged stay. Amish Country was full of women who wore bonnets and blokes with beards. I didn't get it. But I did enjoy the couple of hours tour round the old Ohio Sate Reformatory, which has a claim to fame as the place where the Shawshank Redemption was filmed. It is on the whole a spooky place, that has fallen into disrepair, and over looks the modern facility that replaced it. My daughter, who has decided she now wants to be known as G Doggy Dog, or G-Dog for short, decided to wave at the inmates who were out sunning themselves, and promptly pooped her pants when started waving back, whilst removing his shirt. I also took the Elster to her first Baseball game, the Cleveland Indians versus the Chicago White Sox. It left her bamboozled, but she did enjoy perusing the numerous shops in the stadium, so it wasn't all bad. For those of you who are interested, I have posted a short gallery here.
The Elster had hold of the camera for most of the trip, so there is a lack of stupid photos, although there are a few that I will post on the Buffoon update post.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Lets Go
The World Cup finally seems to be sparking into life, as teams start shaking off the shackles, and going for victory. This week has seen plenty of upsets, todays German result, although not a massive one, shows that nothing can be taken for granted. All this just before we take on the Might of Algeria. A banana skin? Or an opportunity to play into some form? Please God let it be the later, as an early exit would be more than just a bit depressing. A good win, and the last 16 beckons.....
JMF Ploy Foiled
Sorry about the delay, I fell asleep on the sofa again last night. The game on Wednesday saw yet more skulduggery from the MoFo, as only Queen Bee Jamon showed up. The rest of the team was youngsters such as One Scoop and Nab Wood Guy (drafted in at the last second, a passing employee who filled in for King Dave, whom nobody told me was not playing). Apart from the afore mentioned leader of the MoFo, the average age of the rest of the team was about 21. Perhaps even younger. So it looked like curtains for the grizzled veterans of the Righteous Elite, and the infants of the JMF started out a right old lick. Alas, for them, they weren't all that keen on defending, and the old boys wasted no time in exploiting this fatal flaw. Again and again. The lads rolled back the years, and myself, Clogs, Two Scoops, the Mercenary and even Big Phil made hay. An eight goal drubbing no less. So, combined with the results of my three week absence means we stand exactly as we did when I left. Down by a game. There is no contest next week, the England world cup game takes precedent, but because I was not around, the court wasn't cancelled in time, and we now have to cough up for not playing. Great.
JMF- Nab Wood Guy, One Scoop, Greeny, Young Gaz and Jamon
EURO E- Euro Bri, Clogs, The Mercenary, Big Phil and Two Scoops
2010 Season
JMF wins - 12
Euro Elite - 11
Draws - 0
JMF- Nab Wood Guy, One Scoop, Greeny, Young Gaz and Jamon
EURO E- Euro Bri, Clogs, The Mercenary, Big Phil and Two Scoops
2010 Season
JMF wins - 12
Euro Elite - 11
Draws - 0
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Jet Lag
Sorry I have not been keeping up to date on the old blog, but my sleep patterns are still all over the place. Combine this with the insipid matches that have been served up during the World Cup, and I have been out cold on the sofa every night by nine o'clock. I have no immediate plans this weekend, and aim to get caught up. There has been some plenty of buffoonery to report, particularly from two members, who at this rate, may well yet catch up to run away leader Trigger. All shall be revealed. I will also bore you with some of my American antics, and post a galley on the smug mug site. Last but not least, there are some "Wristband Around the World" shots to upload, and I am also going to try an set up mobile blogging, so I can post things as they happen, instead of trying to remember everything a couple of days down the line. I aim to start tonight by updating all the doings that have transpired down "The Wood" whilst I have been on my travels.
Glass Half Full!
Any body would think we had lost! I have purposely left my musings on the England performance till now, as I suspected that they would not be the only favourites to struggle in the first games. I know the Germans kicked some Aussie arse (don't you just love watching our Antipodean cousins get drubbed0 but the rest of the teams performed just as abysmally as the the Three Lions. First up Brazil. Don't you just hate the way all the commentators and pundits fawn all over every move they make? If we had only beaten the lowest ranked team in the tournament via a gaol keeping mistake there would have been Hell on. But no, instead it was a magical piece of Samba skill. My arse, the dog munching goalkeeper should have had his near post covered. And letting a team score, that ranks below the likes of Jordan, Qatar, Uzbekistan and Wales. But at least they won, I suppose. Unlike the World Champions of Italy, held by Paraguay, who only qualify for the finals because they play all there home qualifiers at an altitude that cause opponents to bleed from their ears. The Dagos were hopeless, and if England are as pedestrian as the so called experts would have us believe, the Azurri resemble a gang of Gastropods. Last but not least of course, everybodys favourites, who according to all and sundry, this a competition was supposed to be some kind of coronation, as the swept to an inevitable first title. Until the Swiss beat them one nil. Yes, it is all very pretty, the little triangles and such that they weave, but just ask an Arsenal fan what this counts for when they hand out trophies. Not much. (I fear they might yet suffer from the curse of being Sandros predicament, a la France 2002)
So lets put Englands first outing into some kind of perspective. No it was not good. But do you really want your team to be giving their best showing straight off the bat? If not for the keeper we would have three points, and the fact that the Americans are a far better side that both the North Koreans and Paraguay, and a least the equal of Switzerland. Lets just wait and see how things stand come the end of next week. Hopefully by then I will be able too tune back in to TalkSport, and not have to listen to Crespo bang on that we stand no chance.
So lets put Englands first outing into some kind of perspective. No it was not good. But do you really want your team to be giving their best showing straight off the bat? If not for the keeper we would have three points, and the fact that the Americans are a far better side that both the North Koreans and Paraguay, and a least the equal of Switzerland. Lets just wait and see how things stand come the end of next week. Hopefully by then I will be able too tune back in to TalkSport, and not have to listen to Crespo bang on that we stand no chance.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Come on England
At last the 2010 World Cup has commenced. As usual I am backing the boys in White, although I fear the Spaniards are a cut above the rest. Still, I'd rather be optimistic, than pessimistic, unlike the plethora of knob heads who call in on the radio saying we will be lucky to get past the last 16. Who are these wankers? Rooney isn't World Class, Capello has lost the plot, the Team is too old, the team is too young...... the list of whiners is endless. I can't bring myself to listen to TalkSport at the moment, as it seems to be a touch point for these joyless knobs. I could understand it if they had Scottish, Welsh or even Irish accents, but to a man they hail from this green and pleasant land. From now on I shall be greeting these harbingers of doom with a polite "Shut the fuck up."
So my predictions? Spain to beat England in the final. We will break our penalty voodoo in the semis against Brazil, but second half streaker in the final will break John Terry's concentration for a split second, allowing some effeminate long haired Spaniard to sneak in the decisive score. My outside bet for the semis is Serbia. First up though is my homeland, the good ol' US of A. 3-1 to the three lions, as Rooney gets off to a flyer with a brace.
So my predictions? Spain to beat England in the final. We will break our penalty voodoo in the semis against Brazil, but second half streaker in the final will break John Terry's concentration for a split second, allowing some effeminate long haired Spaniard to sneak in the decisive score. My outside bet for the semis is Serbia. First up though is my homeland, the good ol' US of A. 3-1 to the three lions, as Rooney gets off to a flyer with a brace.
Back in Blighty
Well here i am back in the UK, and everything is broken, or refusing to work. I finally got my PC back up and running, hence the lateness of posting, but my new mobile is not working, and my provider seems clueless, and I got cut off on all my cable services, because some fuck wit didn't pay me in time, and I missed a payment. Just what I needed. Combine this with jet lag, and straight back to work, and it has left my chasing my arse the last couple of days. Welcome home indeed.
Thursday, June 03, 2010
Still Baking
Hello from the sunny mid-west, still warm and still drinking loads of beer. Only five more days left, and then back to Blighty. At least the World Cup awaits, and my beer tolerance is currently at peak levels, although I am not ready to challenge the drinking champion of Europe. My next post will more than likely be on my return. Till then, adios.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Baking in the Ohio Sun
Hello from sunny Tiffin, where it is red hot. Been unable to get to a PC for a spell, combination of too much beer, and the fact my wi-fi ready mobile arrived at my house five minutes after I left for the airport. Typical. Was hoping to relay the Wood score from last night, but Crespo didn't face book the score, although it appears the Funky Messiah may have been injured quite badly. Perhaps he broke his hymen..... Anyway it is far to nice outside to be sat at a computer, so I am off for a swim (please insert whale joke here) and then for some cold brews. Will hopefully catch up sooner then last time.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Too Much, Two Scoops
He had been missing for a while, and all the members of the Righteous Elite had their concerns, but Two Scoops returned not just intact, but improved. During his long lay off he must have been practising with his left foot, cause everything it hit hit, flew in. Of course this was not a one man show, and both the mercenary and Clogs filled their boots on the scoring front, but it was nice to see scoops back on song. Unless you are loose arsed rent boy and play for the JMF. Not their finest moment tonight, and as every week passes, my suspicions that they don't much like each other, are confirmed. But hey, three on the bounce, and we have got the deficit back to one. Will it remain? What you asking me for? I am off on a three week jaunt to American colonies, so I can only hope and pray the Crespo and Big Phil can maintain the momentum ( Mercenary is also off for a fortnight) So on that note I am off, as I have a moderately early start tomorrow.
JMF- Crespo, King Dave, Funky, Luklear War and Jamon
EURO E- Euro Bri, Clogs, The Mercenary, Big Phil and Two Scoops
2010 Season
JMF wins - 10
Euro Elite - 9
Draws - 0
JMF- Crespo, King Dave, Funky, Luklear War and Jamon
EURO E- Euro Bri, Clogs, The Mercenary, Big Phil and Two Scoops
2010 Season
JMF wins - 10
Euro Elite - 9
Draws - 0
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
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.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Bantams Season Review 2009/10
I nearly forgot to post my annual review of the Bantams season performance, and with good reason. It was without a shadow of a doubt the most forgetful one in recent history. After two years of under performance, hopes were not as high as in previous campaigns. Combine this with a tightening of the purse strings, and there was a whiff of imminent disaster approaching. A 5-0 thrashing in the first game, was a harbinger of things to come, and although we never seriously flirted with relegation, we never got a sniff of the play off spots either. Stuart McCall seemed to go into melt down, and the players looked to lose all confidence, and fair play to the ginger fella, he held up his hands and walked away. My personal opinion is that he should have stood by his promise to resign at the completion of last season. He is a stand up guy, and a true City Legend, but he doesn't look manager material. Too much one of the lads I fear. This meant we got new man at the helm, and everybody was pretty excited that we landed Peter Taylor, a man with a proven record at this level, to drag us out of this woeful league. Hopes are high for next term, but money is going to be tight, and season ticket sales are already down, falling below 10,000 for the first time since 2007.
Player of the Year
The choice was only really between two players, Hanson and Ramsden, and at this point I have to admit a certain amount of bias, as I am mates with James Hansons old man. In my defence, he did finish top scorer, and swept the boards at clubs official award ceremony. For a kid playing his first season as a pro, I thought he did well. Yes, he lost his way in the early new year, but by that time, the whole team was pretty much performing the same. Taylors arrival seemed to give him a confidence boost, and apart from a season ending injury, finished strongly.
Biggest Disappointment
Take your pick. Zesh was a target for the boo boys, which I felt was unfair, but it has to be said, when the guy sucks, he sucks big time. Evans is a tough one too rate, the boy runs. And runs. And runs. but that is about it. Still he chips in with a few scores, and does give it his all. Luke O'Brien had a shocking start, but once moved into midfield, by Taylor, looked much better. But the biggest disappointment had to be McCall. He kept faith with too many players who didn't get it done the previous year (Boulding, Clarke, Thorne, Bullock) and at times seemed completely clueless as what to next. I truly wish the man well, but I fear we have thrown our best chances of getting out of the bottom tier, on a guy who seemed to be employed more as season ticket seller, than a coach/manager of any skill.
Away Day
With City being so woeful, we found it hard to get motivated by trips to games. Darlington was dismal, and bloody freezing. Accrington tried to kill my trainers. Morecambe did have it's moments, but for me, the best away day, was when me and the good Dr Shotgun travelled over the hills to Rochdale, for a mid week game in the prestigious Johnstones Paint Trophy. Good grub, cheap beer, and a surprising victory, on a very pleasant autumn night. Not bad at all.
Pie of the Year
One saving grace was the vast improvement in the pies down at Valley Parade. Somebody must have finally told the half wits who serve that the ovens do not have to kept at temperature level of magma. The Steak and Kidney was worthy of special praise. I actually managed to get through three of em. In one half. But no matter how much they came on from last year, they just fell short of Rochdales, who win my pie of the year award for the second season in a row. Darlington was poor, and they ran out on my second run, just as I got to the head of the queue, after lining up for almost 20minutes. Accrington, amazingly did not even sell them, although the hoardings around the ground advertised them, the teasing bastards. Still, barring a cup tie, we will have a new winner come 2011, as Rochdale finally got promoted out of the bottom league for the first time since 1807. Previous winners:
Player of the Year
The choice was only really between two players, Hanson and Ramsden, and at this point I have to admit a certain amount of bias, as I am mates with James Hansons old man. In my defence, he did finish top scorer, and swept the boards at clubs official award ceremony. For a kid playing his first season as a pro, I thought he did well. Yes, he lost his way in the early new year, but by that time, the whole team was pretty much performing the same. Taylors arrival seemed to give him a confidence boost, and apart from a season ending injury, finished strongly.
Biggest Disappointment
Take your pick. Zesh was a target for the boo boys, which I felt was unfair, but it has to be said, when the guy sucks, he sucks big time. Evans is a tough one too rate, the boy runs. And runs. And runs. but that is about it. Still he chips in with a few scores, and does give it his all. Luke O'Brien had a shocking start, but once moved into midfield, by Taylor, looked much better. But the biggest disappointment had to be McCall. He kept faith with too many players who didn't get it done the previous year (Boulding, Clarke, Thorne, Bullock) and at times seemed completely clueless as what to next. I truly wish the man well, but I fear we have thrown our best chances of getting out of the bottom tier, on a guy who seemed to be employed more as season ticket seller, than a coach/manager of any skill.
Away Day
With City being so woeful, we found it hard to get motivated by trips to games. Darlington was dismal, and bloody freezing. Accrington tried to kill my trainers. Morecambe did have it's moments, but for me, the best away day, was when me and the good Dr Shotgun travelled over the hills to Rochdale, for a mid week game in the prestigious Johnstones Paint Trophy. Good grub, cheap beer, and a surprising victory, on a very pleasant autumn night. Not bad at all.
Pie of the Year
One saving grace was the vast improvement in the pies down at Valley Parade. Somebody must have finally told the half wits who serve that the ovens do not have to kept at temperature level of magma. The Steak and Kidney was worthy of special praise. I actually managed to get through three of em. In one half. But no matter how much they came on from last year, they just fell short of Rochdales, who win my pie of the year award for the second season in a row. Darlington was poor, and they ran out on my second run, just as I got to the head of the queue, after lining up for almost 20minutes. Accrington, amazingly did not even sell them, although the hoardings around the ground advertised them, the teasing bastards. Still, barring a cup tie, we will have a new winner come 2011, as Rochdale finally got promoted out of the bottom league for the first time since 1807. Previous winners:
- 2010 Rochdale
- 2009 Rochdale
- 2008 Lincoln (for it's sausage sarnie. Lush.)
Pipped at the Post
It was the closest ever end to the race to be crowned Bendership Dream Team Champion. A mere seven points were the difference between myself and Machine, who prevailed for the second year running. My transfer bringing in Fabregas, just as he sustained a season ending injury was probably the difference, and I finished second for the third year in a row. Big John B finished third, which meant the top three were the same as last year. Still there is only one name that goes on the roll of honour, which looks thus:
- 2010- Machine
- 2009- Machine
- 2008- Big John B
- 2007- Lobon (although Funky hotly contests this)
- 2006- Shouty
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Bender Time
There isn't as many of us originally hoped, but it is the Cup Final today, and tradition demands a Bender. Myself and the Helmet are meeting up within the next couple of hours, and are making our way to a new sports bar in Wakefield, where we will be hooking up with Sprocket, Big JohnnyM, Dr Shotgun, Plus One and Dessi. The Boy Dazzler will be making himself available as soon as work commitments allow. The plan later is to head back to Saltaire for a few sherberts, Mercenary will be joining the festivities at this point. I was hoping to update the days shenanigans via twitter and this blog, but those plans have been scuppered, as I left my phone at the bottom of the stairs last night, and then promptly stood on it, rendering it completely and utterly useless. Buffoon point to the Brister. Which brings me nicely on to another score, as the current title holder finally got off the mark last week. Helmet managed to run out of petrol, 800 metre from the pub, and had to jog on to make last orders. I bet it was the first exercise he has taken in many a moon. So below are the latest standings, although if history is anything to go by, I will be updating again tomorrow.
Updated Buffoon Standings
Updated Buffoon Standings
- Trigger 50 points
- El Grande Queso 14 points
- Euro Bri 14 points
- Crespo 13 points
- Child Catcher 11 points
- Gareeeeeee 4 points
- Sprocket 3 points
- Dr Shotgun 3 points
- Mikey D 3 Points
- John the Don 3 points
- Shouty 3 points
- Dessi 2 points
- San 1 Point
- Major 1 point
- Tony Helmet 1 point
Fall Out
They only get along when their winning! That should be the official chant of the JMF, as they bickered and sulked to a convincing defeat down the Wood on Wednesday night. Another fine display by the Righteous Elite saw us take an early lead, and keep it all they way through to the end. The MoFo cause wasn't helped by the injuries to Dead Eye, who spent most of the evening on the floor. First up he did his ankle. Then the other one. I am such there was another couple of knocks, but the finishing move was the spinning ball to the eye. Don't have too much sympathy for the shirt lifters, we suffered similarly a month back when Two Scoops pulled up and we were stuffed. The Gaylords did show some fight, they even got within a brace of equalising, but the effort to gain parity left gaping holes in their rearguard, and our handsome advantage was soon reinforced. This was too much for the batty boys, and the sniping and name calling got underway. I don't reckon the JMF like each other, and only get along when the going is good. Long may their falling out continue
JMF- Dead Eye, King Dave, Funky, Luklear War and Jamon
EURO E- Euro Bri, Clogs, The Mercenary, Shouty and Crespo
2010 Season
JMF wins - 10
Euro Elite - 8
Draws - 0
JMF- Dead Eye, King Dave, Funky, Luklear War and Jamon
EURO E- Euro Bri, Clogs, The Mercenary, Shouty and Crespo
2010 Season
JMF wins - 10
Euro Elite - 8
Draws - 0
Friday, May 14, 2010
Time Flies
When you are as busy as! Work commitments, and getting all my shit ready for my imminent jaunt to the USA means that I have had no time to update anything on the blog for the best part of a week. I was going to get caught up tonight, but then Geevers rang, so it is off to the George instead. Combine that with tomorrows FA Cup shindig, and I will endeavour to catch up on Sunday, hangover and the Elster not withstanding. The numbers making the trip to Wakefield are low at the moment, but we will be hooking up with Jonesy and the Boy Dazzler, and then probably heading around Saltaire.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Always the Bridesmaid?
The Premiership may well have ended, but the annual Bendership Dream Team has one more week to run. It is a two horse race, between myself in second, and last years champion Machine to be crowned champion. Machine will be attempting to become the first repeat winner, and has a 25 point advantage with just two games left. Of these matches, the Europa Cup Final, and the FA Cup final, he has only one player, Fat Frankie Lampard, but his points are void, as he is also in my team. So my chance of glory rests in the hands of two Fulham players Bobby Zamora and Arron Hughes, and even more importantly, Chelsea's Didier Drogbha. Three goals and a clean sheet should see me home and dry, but it will be tight.
Of course, I shall be cheering the Blues on from a bar in Wakefield, on our ninth annual FA Cup bender. This is the first year we are venturing outside of Bradford, due mainly to the fact that there ain't no where showing the game in the city centre. Any way, a change is as good as a break, so the saying goes. If there are any changes to the plans, I shall post them in good time.
Of course, I shall be cheering the Blues on from a bar in Wakefield, on our ninth annual FA Cup bender. This is the first year we are venturing outside of Bradford, due mainly to the fact that there ain't no where showing the game in the city centre. Any way, a change is as good as a break, so the saying goes. If there are any changes to the plans, I shall post them in good time.
Be Wary of What You Wish
If there was ever proof that the grass is always greener, today's resignation by Gordon brown is it. Here I am, finally seeing the demise of the man who has instigated some of the most idiotic legislation ever passed as law, thinking "About time," when the penny dropped. If the Lib Dems decide to throw their lot in with the Labour party, and form a coalition Government, that would mean number 10 would still have a Red Prime Minister. Would that be so bad? Make your own mind up, when you consider that the front runners to be the head honcho at Westminster would be the Milliband boys and Ed Balls, possibly the three most contemptible buffoons, currently drawing breath. Hot on their heels is Shouty's "objet du désir " good old Harriet Harman. If any of these clowns gets the keys to 10 Downing Street, I shall be dusting off my passport, and consider emigrating. One unelected PM was bad enough, but two on the bounce? Do me a favour...
Sunday, May 09, 2010
I Don't Think So
They reckon that staying is the new going out. Well I tried it this weekend and trust me, it's not. Thank God for the Family Guy weekend on the usually shite BBC Three. Can you believe they have a show called Autistic Driving School on this little watched channel? The mind truly boggles......
Thursday, May 06, 2010
Farewell Gordon???
I can't quite get my head round how Labour still have a chance of winning this election. Never mind the fact that after 13 years running the show that we find ourselves in the biggest pickle since the Second World War, and they seem to think that none of it is their fault, but that they could end up polling only the third biggest vote total and still end up with the most seats in Parliament. How the devil does that work? Forgive my naivety, but I understood a democracy worked on the assumption that the person/party that garnered the highest number of votes won, and henceforth earned the right too govern. I could even understand if there were some arcane law from way back that might let the second place guy sneak in, but third? And then there is the Labour hierarchy. Leaving Gordon aside for a moment, but the thought of Ed Balls, Harriet Harperson, the Milliband boys remaining in charge is enough to make the skin crawl. Even more stomach churning is Shouty's confession that he wouldn't mind bending Ms Harperson over and giving her a right good seeing too! Just as well we were to lazy/skint to run him as a potential Member of Parliament. Then again seeing her face as he leered across the floor would have been well amusing.
My other bug bear is the two main parties bleating on about how damaging a hung Parliament would be too the economy. Not having one has worked out really well, hasn't it? Combine this with the knowledge that the German economy has purred along much better than ours, with no majority party in control, since 1945, and I personally don't understand what the fuss is about. Anyway, if that's the way the country votes, that's the way it is, get used to it. My suspicion is the the Tories will probably just sneak through, which is fine and dandy with me, and hopefully they will implement their threat to repel all the ludicrous laws passed by Blair, Brown and all their acolytes since 1997. Please, please, please, anybody but Gordon.
PS
Am I the only one who finds Sky News boast that they will be showing all their election coverage in High Definition odd? Why on Earth would anybody want to see the collection of Munters running for office in HD? Too a man, and indeed woman, they are all blessed with faces best suited to radio....
My other bug bear is the two main parties bleating on about how damaging a hung Parliament would be too the economy. Not having one has worked out really well, hasn't it? Combine this with the knowledge that the German economy has purred along much better than ours, with no majority party in control, since 1945, and I personally don't understand what the fuss is about. Anyway, if that's the way the country votes, that's the way it is, get used to it. My suspicion is the the Tories will probably just sneak through, which is fine and dandy with me, and hopefully they will implement their threat to repel all the ludicrous laws passed by Blair, Brown and all their acolytes since 1997. Please, please, please, anybody but Gordon.
PS
Am I the only one who finds Sky News boast that they will be showing all their election coverage in High Definition odd? Why on Earth would anybody want to see the collection of Munters running for office in HD? Too a man, and indeed woman, they are all blessed with faces best suited to radio....
Crespo Redemption
What a difference a week makes. last Wednesday Crespo was in cow's backside with a banjo mode, this week he was Gerd Muller, Gary Linekar and Jimmy Greaves all rolled into one. At first he was off the pace, but once he slotted in his first, the flood gates opened. The JMF held on for a spell, but at last the Righteous Elite clicked into gear and broke our woeful losing streak. Everybody played their part, Clogs and myself found some form. and the last gasp substitute, Big JohnnyM played as if a regular. But a special mention goes out to the Shoutster. It was his sublime trap and finish that got us under way, and even though the nefarious shirt lifters deprived him a perfectly legitimate goal, he answered with a thunderbolt to wreak his revenge. Our victory was so complete in fact, that we even began to give the sac lovers every disputed call, which wound them up even more. This rage then blinded them too tall doe eyed males called Kevin, and he found himself unmarked, time and again. And he made them pay big time as we ran out comfortable ten goal plus winners. My big worry is that we used up all our goals in one night, and next week will see the return of high, wide and handsome shooting. But maybe, just maybe, the spell has been broken, and we will return to our early season supremacy.
JMF- Dead Eye, Young Gaz, Funky, Luklear War and Jamon
EURO E- Euro Bri, Clogs, Big Phil, Big JohnnyM and Crespo
2010 Season
JMF wins - 10
Euro Elite - 7
Draws - 0
JMF- Dead Eye, Young Gaz, Funky, Luklear War and Jamon
EURO E- Euro Bri, Clogs, Big Phil, Big JohnnyM and Crespo
2010 Season
JMF wins - 10
Euro Elite - 7
Draws - 0
Monday, May 03, 2010
Crickey!!!!
I wasn't going to post anything today, having to work Bank Holidays sucks ass, and doesn't put me in the best of moods, but something happemed to me on Sunday that hasn't happened in a looooong time, and I couldn't resist sharing it. Saturday was the Bantams last home game of the season, so afterwards it was off to the pub to sink much beer and talk shite. Of course this meant I didn't eat much, so I woke up starving, and still a bit inebriated if truth be told. A greasy fry up was the order of the day, so down to Bradfords finest greasy spoon I went. God knows how it happened, but I caught the eye of a young twenty something girl, and flashed her the legendary Brister smile. She smiled back, and pleasantries were exchanged, before my cardiac arrest on a plate arrived. She waved and left the cafe, and that was that, so I thought, before her mate strode up to me, and said "My friend wants you to have this," and tipped me a wink. I had scored a phone number no less. I confess to being quite shocked, and my ego began to burst at the seams. That is until my 11 year old daughter clicked what had occurred, and burst out laughing. For a good five minutes. I thought at one point that she might require oxygen, she laughed that hard, and when we got home, of course, she filled the Elster in with all the details. What was even worse, was the Elster started laughing just as hard. Personally I don't see what was so funny, seeing as I am so fine, but trying telling that to the girls I share a home with. Still it is good ammunition for the next time I fancy a knee trembler, as if the Elster is not compliant, I shall threaten to summon my nubile admirer.
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