Early Sunday evening listening to JohnnyCash and wondering how you all spend the rest of your Sundays after THE match. Do you walk the dogs, feed the ducks, dream about how better you were in days now gone by, (an understandable failing in a once born-once died existence) or are you permitted the opportunity to snooze before bedtime beckons? Do you indeed wonder what's the fucking point?
Today a vast multitude of availables turned out gin the 10 men of Old Pretenders (Internationale). A bit of a headache making sure everyone got a chance for a slice of the 90 minutes. By the way I am so old that I can say I hate substitutes it's such a recipe for internecine warfare. If a bloke dies on the pitch then I can recognise a possible rati0nale for substitutes but other than that a canna think of an obvious need.
Fortunately Carl stepped into a breach giving them an eleventh man in the first half. He was up against a post-gout John Boyle, who looks a sure fire selection for the hapless Spus anyday now.
"Anyday now giving your love to me .....".
Despite some very pleasant on the eye football we contrived to miss several early chances, stand up "ferret killer" (who contributed to play well to be fair), we but managed to do more difficult things in ensuing our 3-0 half time lead- a terrific individual shot from Matt (miles out), a sweet move and a deadly finish from the Bull and a run through from Martin culminating in an exquisite chip (some said he fucked it up but not from where I was lounging).
Half time saw Nick, making his debut for us, replace Carl as their 11th man and then prove to be their most competitive man in the second half viz. some skirmishes with the aforementioned Carl, who came on for us. Did they kiss and make up or did they only kiss, I don't really know and I wouldn't like to say. Nick's father, watching, lost the match ball sometime during the first half, slicing it into a nearby garden. Seems familiar Nick. I'll get it back tomorrow, after all I struggled through nettles and dog shite last week to find that fucker. Anyway I know the neighbour whose garden it entered, think his name is Ornery Cunt- perhaps I'll send Mr Boyle to get it.
How many misses in the second half from Messieurs Mills and Lisle? They both scored one each but even my left nipple at its lactating best could have scored Mark's. They managed to pull one back through an inexplicable raid down the middle, John Boyle scored a cheeky one from the most knicker elastic of angles and late on, after a second for Matt, and a succession of corners from Carl, cascading conkers from every conceivable tree, they managed curiously to smuggle a third. Mind you a sneaky deal between Steve Hammond and Trevor releasing the latter from his goalkeeping duties might have contributed to that. Oh yes, the second goal of theirs, ushered in that near post might have increased Trevor's longings for a role outfield. And this after weeks of goalkeeping hurt when I have been lauding Trevor's goalkeeping prowess to all who might contemplate listening. This bloke is unbeatable quoth I.
To the pub. Or the wake. A moderate turn out, sandwiches were there, consistent and cold, colder than the Stella and there the old braves chewed the fat over the morning's happenings.
Ron
46 comments:
I think you have it wrong Ron. Dave is laid up with a dodgy shoulder and hopes to be back with the team in a few months. So i don't know why you think he's going away.
We are gonna be short in the midfield then- nobody told mer he was injured
Any chance of giving some of the longer serving and elder members of Knobs a run out? or is the youth policy still favoured?
Ron the old git does get a run out!
Are we still losing two minutes of daylight every day?
I have waited patiently and deserve a chance to impress. I think that I can do a job for the team in a league game and I am raring to go. Can I play on Sunday?
Did Chrissie Hynde play? If so, I can understand why we penetrated them 7 times. Remember the KNOBS cry 'every holes a goal!' - marvellous stuff. That's positively youthful yobbery. Kick them out Ron...the hooligans!
We will be getting ex pro's who have just turned 35 ( with the present policy)just to win games. What happened to the Knobs policy of involving everyone?
Yes Ron sort it out. All members should be given the opportunity to play and be involved.
Anonymity, the bastion of cowardice!
Anonymity, the bastion of cowardice!
Repetition, the precursor of Althzeimers.
Misspellling, a symptom of Altzeimers.
Av shit meself- you've fucking got it.
You might as well put your name Ron. You don't want to be accused of cowardice and double standards. Not to mention contradiction!!
Cowards, the lot of you. Put your names forward or shut up!
Yeah involve everyone Ron, you bastard! Ring the organiser of the league and say we've invented a new version of football called 35-a-side. It would be brilliant. Hardly any running. Could have a shit in the middle of the park and no one would notice. A couple of you could even have a nice cup of tea and a garibaldi when their is a back 'four' of ten! It's the way forward for veterans footie. Come on Ron...show some balls! Innovate this football-larky. It's been the same for a 100 years. Who said 11 was the correct number anyway?
Anonymous who he ?
I am only ten years old and heard about the Knobs youth policy and how you discard most players over 36yrs of age (with one well known exception). Any chance of a game you old cretin?
Yeah Ron you wanker get this new 35-a-side vets lark sorted out so we can all participate.
I'll get on to the tv and radio stations and maybe we can get some media coverage.
Why stop at 35- a side I mean.
40 aside played in the Station Hotel garden. Breaks each five minutes for whatever.
Oh so silly silly silly.
Anyone wanna game? Anyone eligible if you think you're up to it (if you don't rise to the challenge sailor then the inevitable lash will be your just desserts) If you'vepaid your tenner come right up and ask big boy!
Anyone can play except that shit "Anonymouse"- I ken who he is av heard him squeak before.
Nobody can play who has a yellow streak running up the middle of is back and who is not prepared to be carried from the field on his shield- deid after 90 minutes. Let me die an old man's death a quiet-in-between-the sheets death not a drug addled-out-of-me-box on a Saturday night death (pardon McGough) that sort of fella will be nae guid either.
What we want is transparency and honesty no some woeful back of the hand banterings- that's the sort of competitor we're looking for to wear our blue and black, yellow and blue, blue and mainly white with a hint of yellow,a orange and black,black and more black with a
searing pride.
Up for it big boy? Well.... come up and see me.
Oh yes heading the ball is regarded as compulsory in our coven
is that OK?
Toodlepip
Hannibal
Wot owser yoo tooking aboot, you fookin twat! We'll tek those south sothern bastads eneetime Ron!
It smells like a poofs boudoir in here!
i tried to join the knobs and that manager fella told me not to bother. i am a veteran and played the game for years and at quite a high level in the forties. that nice chairman chap told me about the summer training but i was informed in no uncertain terms not to turn up by the manager Ronald or something. i was so shocked i fell off my zimmer frame and damaged my replacement hip and will never walk again. fucking twat.
Who are you all? How come in places like Somalia, China and Burma people called anonymous can be smoked out and fackin shot in the goolies on a regular basis?
Apologies to all who don't get a game- but its a cauldron of hot broth broon ale within which I'm wallowing- I love you all didn't realise I was a Christian didya?
It might have worked aal reet wi 5 loaves in a few fishes but within the Knobs vets set up 150 into 11 just doesn't gan withoot some jiggery pokery, tears 'n gnashin o teeth. Stay pure!
Thought for the day : Divn't mess wi ma U-bends.
Ron, it seems to me that several 'anonymous' people are on the wind up. Chin up and carry on the good work me marrrer, we all realise that 33 into 11 does not go. Still waiting for the call and rarin' to go (every once in a while anyway). Not sure about the heading though but prepared to give it a go.
33 would go if we played the new 35-a-side game! In fact we would have to recruit more players.
The two new players can be some fit tasty birds, who can clean the goalposts and toot on my whistle! Then they can provide some post-footie lunch, wash all the kit and mow the pitch.
off to the Station gulag to get a few tips from that fucker McLaren.
England nae chance. A decent pint nae fucking chance. A convivial atmosphere, nae fucking jump on my left tit until it screams for mercy fucking chance.
Hope a don't get wrong!
Getting a call from Ron or getting picked..........nae fucking chance!
Ron for the England job!
So humble do I feel.
I had to turn down the England job- the ducks you see, they're so demanding. Mind you Mrs Mclaren has nice tits but she's at the back of the queue. Honest!
Kevin do you fancy a game next week, unfortunately it's away to Kempston, a nice morning out. All places as always up for grabs- if you lot were available every week wouldn't there be problems- howay lads it's only a bit of post -death fun this veteran's lark, soooooo lighten up yi fuckas.
Last neet terrible lager at the Station - naebody wi yems ti gan tae, in a gan yem and get a smack in the mooth in start thinkin the Stations not such a bad place after aal.
Kevin Jones wiz there , we reminisced on my my forst gyem fer Knebworth when in a season of defeat after defeat a came on as sub. Kev hoyed in a corner an a rose like a dolphin ti nut the baal yem. A had ti wait 16 months ti git a gyem fer Knobs- so divvint despair some of yi!
He's followin me example (Kevin that is ) he's got a brood o runner ducks- hope they divvint git stuck in ees teeth.
well me bonny lads am away ti dae a bit o gardnin hope yiz a aal enjoyin workin fer yi livin, al come back on song later wi sum marvllous news. Yil hev ti wait.
Fair wind ti yer arses.
Geordie lad
Kempston away is fine Ron. I won't let you down bonnie lad. Truth is i probably think i am better than i am! God loves a trier and i will always give 100%.
Ever thought of applying for the Bolton job?
Dear Ronald, do you need an assistant? I know where Kempston is.
Has anyone seen my shaving gel?
Gel? Is that it over there or have I done it again?
Ronald...have you seen Hamburglar?
Those unable to reach inaccessible parts will have their arses compulsorily shaved by Carl prior to Sunday's game, a harrowing experience!
J Boyle appointed as chief inspector of arse hair prior to Operation Carl.
Thank you.
The Committee.
Ferrets terrorise laundrette users:
A pair of furious ferrets have taken up residence in a drying machine in.........
A man says to his wife after reading a book entitled 'how to be a man'. Right darling "from now on you will cook all my dinners, you will lay on the bed and allow me to do what i like!". "i will be watching footie during the week and you will serve me all my beer". " and in the morning guess who will be cleaning and dressing me?" his wife paused for a moment then said....................................."the fucking undertaker!!!"
A man gets home late from the pub and very drunk. The wife says "ok smart arse how do you explain the lipstick on your collar?". "fucking easy" he says "i used my shirt to wipe me cock!!"
Man is incomplete until he is married. Then he's finished.
Daily Worse than Shite says:-
Ferrets apprehended at laundrette frequented by one Chris "I'm 35" Chris Wilson say, they were fulsomely, frolicking Ferret-wise in an Elysian field called Therfield when they were brutally apprehended by one Homo sapiens, thrust down his socks and given a 20 minute walk round the field in some charade as a footballer's protection. This dastardly cad failed to release them on culmination of this ancient and pathetic ritual, hence they were transported to something known as a laundrette. (This is where Chris Wilson comes in- he did the Knobs kit that week- not very carefully it would appear- unless he likes watching ferrets frolicking in oceans of soap suds- Hercules Poirot).
Interviewed by animal sympathiser, Kevin Jones of, ... somewhere, the ferrets claimed that no physical threat approached them in the game and that possibly they were being worn by someone with a long yellow streak running down his back, which had a decided hump to it.
Viewing our story from our sister-in-law paper the "Daily Shite", a reader immediately responded with the identity of this ferret abuser.
"Big Bob", ex of Portsmouth and now of Cambridge, said the perpetrator could only be "Mark the Camel" of Knebworth, he of the 'knock it over from 5 feet' skill, gleaned from the uncannily accurate description of his unerring hump.
Interviewed, Mark claimed it could not be him cos he was a bactrian not a dromedary and was certainly not bred for racing and riding!
The ferrets are known to be relieved that they were not secreted down someone's jock strap for the universally loved practice of arse-shavin.
RSPCA, narrowing the search are seeking a one humped biped, dressed in fetching orange, masquerading as a once upon a time footballer in the vicinity of Knebworth.This dastardly activity might be confined to Sunday mornings but might conceivably be at play on Tuesday and Thursday evenings.
Watch out you bastards, we're onto you.
Percy Pugnose- "Worse than Shite press"
35 a-side? Vets? Knebworth only has one undertaker.
ENGLAND!
Shut up Ron and get on with the cleaning!
fucking done man and some gardening.
Duck pecked
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