Laadddies and gentlemen, its Sunday morning, its cold and damp, everyone should be snuggled up under the duvet with their loved ones, perhaps having a squeeze, or a lick, probing dry spots with digits making them slowly damper before thrusting home the mighty sword in a wild thrashing blur of sexual energy then rolling off, throwing him in the damp patch and wiping knob on la curtains, but no...its the Mighty Vale vs Bewdley Bailiffs, until the last match the Bailiffs had never won, the Vale had never lost, and neither side had drawn, QED the Vale were kings, but then tragedy struck on a shitty Bailiffs pitch when they took 3 points and 3 goals in the first Division 5 clash, feeding like hungry curly tailed piglets on the teats of big mamma Vale.
Officially voted 2 nicest teams in the league by MORI, it is expected to be a tame affair, very gentlemanly, no swearing or kicking, rather more handshakes, strawberries and ice cream and kittens.
Team news, Sofa, Dan partners Camo at the back ably flanked with wonky finger Flopsy and Geri the Pirate. Chuff heads back up the wing, stood waving at Chris on t’other, the canines in the middle of Rupdedoop and Simmo, and Doofy and Bowling up front. Steady line up but will we miss the physicality of the Imre siblings, and the ginger shine of the Smith sisters? Time will tell, in due time.
It was agreed with Lady Luck, Dame Maggie Fate and a small contractual arrangement with Lucifer involving someone’s soul that if 20 keepy ups could be achieved before kick off it was a guaranteed win. There was no agreement made as to the result if this wasn’t achieved...it was assumed by all parties it would be, like those fuck easy questions at the ad breaks for suckass day time telly programmes, like my favourite, dirty housewives. Let me get to the point. The Vale can’t do 20 keepy ups. The game kicked off.
As usual Matt and Rupe were kicking ass and taking baths, Laan was missing sitters and kissing shitters, and Andy was popping matches and dropping catches. But all in all it was all going rather well. Then half way into the second half a nothing free kick was conceded 20 yards inside the half way line for the Vale. Camo stepped up, and hayoofed the ball goalwards, everyone watched, including the keeper, as it came down from the sky and dropped over his head. Naturally Camo claimed he’d seen the keeper move off his line ala Ronaldinho vs Seaman 2002. Obviously everyone ignored him and put it down as a fluke, although it should be noted Camo is now successful 1 in every 53 attempts (just less than 2%). Matt and Rupe lost it in the middle with commando rolls and ballet like leaps a plenty, before Matt chased a Bailiff out to the wing and ay flip yaa into the collection of bottles, medical equipment, dogs, small children, wheelbarrows and glove puppets assembled on the sideline. Nice.
Dan then approached a Bailiff through ball with time and space on his side, but as the bailiff approached time and space legged it leaving him with his weedy side kicks skill and footballing brain. The Bailiff ate both sidekicks and turned to a trembling Danbo, Dan fluffed, Bailiff pounced, 1-1.
Things began to get heated in the Vale ranks as they pursued the victory, Laan attempted motivation of his team mates by suggesting he was the only one trying, or in fact the only good enough to wear the shirt, after which he received a volley of abuse sauce from Chuff and Geri.
The last throw of the dice saw Paul T and Jay hit the pitch, and by golly it worked, the Vale found the net, Geri skipping down the wing and pulling it back (please note: PULLING IT BACK) to Laan who made a run from behind Geri (please note: FROM BEHIND GERI) before side footing in. Offside. Boss eyed more like. (please note: OTHER 2 PREVIOUS PLEASE NOTE’S MEAN LAAN WAS DOUBLE ON SIDE).
So the points are shared extremely unfairly, and the Bailiff’s in the best of spirits returned to the Manor for beers, reconstituted meat products and hydrogenated fat saturated hydrocarbons, and the darn nice chaps bought some programmes. Hell of a game Elvert, but then that’s what its all about....or is that the oakey cokey?
