Another weekend, yet another lamb to the slaughter. This time, it was Amber and Black 0 Black and Tan 5, officially an away game but because we’re moneygrabbing bastards nice people, it was switched to der Volkstadion. If the truth was known, this was a David Pleat style game, namely getting out of first gear was impossible. Scarily enough, this could have ended in the mythical double figures if our shooting was anywhere near like what it should have been. That said, KC opened the scoring with his – gasp – head. He’s now better using his bonce than his feet. This was the case until after HT, when we netted again with a KC penalty. Frodo (with lunatic celebration), Gibbo and the impressing Paul Scott completing the rout
BTW, what tournament was this? The Combined Counties Colonic Irrigation All Comers County Premiership Challenge Cup or something? Why don’t they just award it to us now and done with it?
Plus points: Yawn – win. Away. Clean sheet. Paul Scott. Etc etc etc.
Minus points: Shooting.
The referee’s a…… : And once again, a semi-decent ref. Even gave decisions to us. Their linesman was a bit of a poser, nicely manicured, fine head of hair, nicely trimmed, lino clobber fitted perfectly like it was personally tailored. He was from the RAF’s own FA (makes a change from them dropping bombs on people I suppose), so naturally enough he would have perfectly dressed. No idea if he waved his flag using a secret form of semaphore.
Them: Reportedly a bit understrength and showed it. Not known to have had a shot even remotely on target, which considering they were at home (er..) is pretty piss poor. Did they really go 2-0 up against us earlier this season? Oh, and their chairman was bigged up over the PA, but got less of a positive response when he announced there were no cheese rolls.
Fast Food Song: It took 60 minutes for the first recognisable chant to start up. And guess what? It was the old “Oh Milton Keynes is full of shit”. TBH, the whole atmosphere reflected the game, rather dull in places. The buzz beforehand was non-existant
Point to ponder: If we’re being dead honest with ourselves here, why do we bother entering these tournaments? Or if that sounds too William Huge Testicles, what good is it risking our first team squad?
Truth is stranger than fiction: (1) Phillo playing guitar based music like A and Stone Roses again. Is he having a Road To Damascus conversion? If so, wonder how long it will be before he starts playing Sabbath’s “Iron Man” and starts teasing us with snippets of Body Count? (2) Wasn’t it cold? (3) The surreal announcement about the catering. You know, the one telling us there were no burgers but plenty of other stuff. The plug did sound like something you get on GNER or Virgin Trains, though we didn’t get as far as being told there was a wide selection of beers, wines and spirits.
Anything else? Umm, possibly. Paul Scott is good but he does showboat a bit.
So, was it worth it? Guess so, it beats doing pointless things on Sunday, like watching telly, going to B&Q or going to church
In a nutshell: What next?