Originally posted by @saintbletch
Yeah, I used to be hypochondriac, but then…
Well, let’s just say I always had my suspicions.
Despite what everyone was muttering behind your back it looks like you’ve got the show back on the road and you are the man to lead this club forward - nice one.
Take this as a fully deserved vote of confidence.
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Right, that’s you on the opposite side to Rooney, I.
I’d love to take the credit, but I think the game has simply coincided with a day when Arsenal aren’t playing Barca, the joint matrimonial and corporate thumbs have been lifted from the Flyd Cat’s forehead, Rooney’s UFC fight has been postponed and you and I are not washing our hair.
There will be 5 next week.
Mark my words.
Toke’s a ****.
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Right, I’m dosed up to my eyeballs and a bit wobbly but should be OK to play. One issue - my car’s in the garage and unlikely to be fixed in time.
Would I be able to cheek a lift with anyone?
Hope you can get a lift, ant.
Glad you’re on the mend. Perhaps take it easy tonight and, don’t run so much? Especially if I’ve got the fucking ball!
Where do you live ant?
PM me your address and I’ll pick you up. Please note this is not grooming.*
*I’ll leave the mattress in the back of the van just in case.
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Edinburgh. He lives in Edinburgh, Goatster.
Cool, road trip. I’ll iron my raping trousers.
and wash them. Last time I saw them, they were covered in wallpaper glue.
Can you just pop in and help me find my boots?..
And that’s how the Goat ended up behind a wall in the cellar.
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Ant’s boots are so loud you can see them from the road.
That’s really kind, GB. Unfortunately yesterday was a false dawn, as last night I puked blood and today I can barely walk straight, let alone run. AND the lovely codeine is no longer effective for the pain.
Getting a GP appointment (as soon as they pick up the fucking phone) 'cos something’s properly not right.
By way of comic relief, the boot talk above has reminded me that mine are in my car. The car that’s in the garage…
I’m quite the clusterfuck at present.
Hope you’re feeling better soon, ant.
I did think this thread had exhibited hubris, and that appears to be the case as we are now 9 with one possible.
Thank the fucking Lord (and Jamie and his Magic Lung).
We are quorate.
10 playing tonight as at 4pm
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5 v 5 with a rolling sub and a really close game between the bibs and the skins.
Skins rode out 13-9 winners, although there is some doubt amongst the group that I got that 100% right. But as the Bletcheree’s decision is final, that is the official score. (it was actually 10-9 to the skins after the regulation 60 mins, but they pulled away in drinking time).
Nice to meet THE Cat who has increased the skill quotient nearly as much as he increased the 'knees of an ostrich quotient. Also, unlike the stories that pap tells us about those from The Other Place, he had neither Combat 18 tattoos nor 6 fingers. (Oh fuck I hope that is true).
I was my usual assured self in front of goal (keeping) but left no banjo splinters in the frame of the bibs’ goal.
The RaleighBoy got the yips in front of goal too, and couldn’t even control the simplest of throat passes by the end of the night.
Moment of the night was The Flyd Cat getting the ball kicked in his face from The Eleventh Man’s errant shot. He staggered like he’d taken a punch. Just me?
Goal of the night came from our senior member (johnH - he’s from The Wales isn’t it) who walked through our tight and regimented defence like a Welsh John Barnes against a shitter Brazil, to tuck the ball coolly into the corner.
We’ll shoot for next week and see if we can get the numbers.
Toke’s a ****.
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A large purple bruise has appeared just under the eye…
…of the portrait in fowlly’s attic.
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I’ve got Wednesday knees.
Whilst I’d normally hate to argue with the ref, as it’s Bletch I’ll make an exception. I reckon the score was 14-10; I was in goal for the last ten or fifteen minutes and conceded but the one goal. The score was 10-9 when I went into goal, the bibs equalised, then we knocked in a few late ones as we took advantage of my not being on the pitch.
Really enjoyed that, and my aging legs do seem to be getting more accustomed to running/strolling around the pitch now.
Just heard the best excuse for never coming to Old Blokes’ Kick-about ever again.
I’m going back to Spain
Barista Javi is going back home to get some tiki taka FOOTBALL in his legs and sun on his back.
RIP.
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I’m sure he’ll miss the freezing arena in Eastleigh.
We really need to introduce the back pass rule which is standard elsewhere - you can’t give it back if the keeper has given it to you.
The game ground to a halt for five mins when the bibs couldn’t or refused to get out of their own penalty area.
The crowd booed as loudly then as they did when unmarked Bletch mis-shinned an open goal into the reception area of the Holiday Inn.