Well well, I can easily say this is the most nervous I have felt about something since my last visit to the clinic. For legal reasons it came back all clear. As we lined up for Saturdays kick off I had a feeling in my belly similar to that when I stood in front of 10 people knowing I had to beat them all one after the other to get my black belt – that’s not actually a joke. The only difference was that instead of doing it for my own personal glory, fighting all on my own, I was this time doing it beside 10 of my closet mates, 10 lads who I knew I could count on if it got ugly. Well, nine, Boydy is a pain in the arse sometimes and he does have a tendency to sporadically gallop off up the pitch!So when the bearded twerp blew his whistle, as well as a sigh of relief, I clenched my fists and shared my feeling of jubilation, something you just can’t buy. The best thing is if we keep battling on it just gets better. Norton drew with Wrentham gifting us two bonus nudges and if we don’t take this chance and run with it, we don’t deserve to take runners up. It’s surpassed my expectations and possibly that of the rest of the league but it’s not over until the fat bloke sings, and Ross is away at the moment so keep the victory cigars on hold. One more win might just do it lads so let’s make sure our preparation leading up to this weekend is perfect. Early to bed Friday night and remember what I said about stopping off at the ‘billy mill roundabout’.... forbidden!
So after a hard fought game against Wrentham Saturday I’m thankful we have the simple task of a COUNTY CUP FINAL Sunday!!! F*ck me, I anticipate weighing in at 9 stone soaking wet Saturday through all the nervous turds I’ll be dropping leading up to the weekend. In anticipation I have doubled up on toilet cleaner and bought a new loo brush. Then as if that’s not bad enough we have Norton midweek! I’d like to blame the league secretary for packing in these fixtures so close together but you can’t. I’d like to blame the groundsman for not getting the pitch in a state to play on, but I can’t. It’s simply down to the lap of gods and the fortuitous weather they bestowed on us during the winter months. It’s a shitter no doubt, I’m half expecting an Arsene Venger type gurgle on here from Dan about packed fixtures over the coming weeks but there is no need, the summers coming and think of those beach bodies with all this extra running! Come to think of it, give Rosey Scottys tan and you have a very similar Hasslehoff!
When we come through this spell of games and we’re looking back at the season with a fistful of medals we will know we have earned them, so dig deep, it will make that champagne taste so much sweeter.
End of season do coming up and that means one thing, brilliant night served up with a side salad of hangovers and another day filed under ‘wasted on the sofa’. These do’s have taken on a mysterious nature. There a bit like an urban myth, people have been, they have seen what can happen but not many people can remember it. We all have the battle scars to prove we have been but we tend not to mention them, “arse licker” wrote on your chest with permanent marker takes some explaining to your wife, especially when you came home with just one shoe! Going into hush with cats whiskers draw on and a phallic symbol protruding from your top button isn’t well received by the doorman and gets you some funny looks so who knows what might happen with the collection of clowns we have playing for PB now.
So what should you expect; A late night for sure, Danny to run on with the mic in his hand, equally expect Daisy to look uncomfortable with the mic, almost like he has farted and he is just waiting for it to reach the people sitting front row. Some guest bartenders, Glynny and Jill to get trashed first, music that would be better placed at G.A.Y. oh, and the dance off! It’s getting serious guys...
