Posted in Football, TV, Cricket at Fri 12 Jan 2007 by Stavros
Forget Colemanballs, here are just some of the phrases and quotes in the world of sport that bring about fear, anger or nausea.
- “and here’s your match commentator, John Motson”
- “and here’s your match commentator, Clive Tyldesley”
- Brand Beckham
- Peter Kenyon
- Tiger Tim (see also “Come on Tim”, particularly in RP English)
- anything to do with Geoffrey Boycott’s bloody mother, if she’s that good with a bat why isn’t she taking on the Aussies?
- “and here comes Glenn McGrath with the new ball”
- “the match referee is Uriah Rennie/Jeff Winter/Steve Bennett”
- “it’s one-all here at Old Trafford, and the fourth official has indicated there will be a minimum of five minutes stoppage time”
- “Next live on Sky Sports from the Reebok Stadium, it’s Bolton Wanderers versus …”
- “Ricky Ponting raises his bat to the crowds, what a glorious century”
- “open-top bus victory parade” (see also Honours List)
- “Well, this Test match is really on a knife edge here, so it’s over to Kempton for the 3.25/it’s now time for the Shipping Forecast/but here comes the rain”
- absolutely everything uttered by Mark Lawrenson
- “Titus Bramble starts for Newcastle”
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Posted in Football, Work at Sun 7 Jan 2007 by Stavros
Will:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport1/hi/funny_old_game/6245511.stm
I was dissapointed with last weeks display, but like a true champion I have returned with a crowd pleasing 8 / 10 proving indeed that class is permenant.. Can the past master respond or is it time for him to step aside and allow the young mercurial auditor to take the throne?
Stav:
a mediocre 6.
But I don’t see it as a trend setting portrayal of future events. You’re far too inconsistant for me to be in fear. and you know cack-all about egg-chasing.
you’re the League One giant-killer having your day in the sun to my proven Premiership class. Sadly, I was off the game today, but I’m still top-flight, whereas you’re away at Gillingham.
W:
I really see myself as the Matt Le Tissier of
10 to tackle. To some he seems fat, lazy and dis-interested but then just as your about to substitute him he proves he’s the best there has ever been and wins the game in a heartbeat. Your more of a David Batty. A consistant performer that nobody will ever really remember
S:
David Batty: 42 caps & 2 championships
Matthew Le Tissier: 8 caps & the adulation of oooh up to dozens of gap-toothed salty sea dogs in that horrible little “stadium”
W:
Matt Le Tissier: A regular feature on Sky along side other greats of the game where he continues to recieve the respect and love of the masses.
David Batty: A regular feature at his local night club where he continues to pest (unsuccessfully) the local lovelys but ends up going home with Tina the fat hooker
S:
The Guernsey Girth on Sky with legends?! what with like-minded luminaries such as Tony Cottee, Peter Beagrie, John Salako and Steve Claridge. That’s a journeymen five-a-side team if ever there was one. I heard Le Tiss’d been injured in a beach soccer tournament anyway, he was harpooned.
He was always, always a poor man’s Pedro Beardsley.
W:
The harpoon rumours are unfortunatly true but the poor mans Peter Beardsley is an outrageous lie. He had 10 times times the talent but only 1/100 of his ambition. The man had the world at his feet but couldn’t really be bothered to do anything about it as he achieved enough with out really trying. Even the arrogant portugese genious fake Ronaldo is trying to emulate him by hooking up with a soap star. He would get into any fat football 11. How could you not respect him?
S:
i respect him, but he was definately a notch below Pedro. Even Maradona didn’t have ten times the talent of the incomprehensible Geordie. And Beardsley had to keep up his job as the bellringer in the Notre Dame in Paris.
Fat XI (draft)
1. Nev “The Walrus” Southall
2.
3.
4.
5.
6. Sammy Lee
7. Matthew Le Tissier
8.
9. The Real Ronaldo
10. Maradona
11.
W:
I can’t accept he is a notch below talent wise, but I do rate peter and im prepared for an agree to disagree situation if it paves the way for a fat XI. I was already toying with the team myself and I cant disagree with any of you current selectons
2. Titus Bramble
3. Julian Dicks
4. Steve Bruce? Theres a porker in him
5. Neil Ruddock
8. Jan Molby (Livepool and Scandinavia somewhere, Denmark i think but minds gone blank)
S:
11. Micky Quinn (even his autobiography was called “Who Ate All The Pies”)ahh Molby, Razor and Dicks, there’s summat about Liverpool in’t there? They must’ve had hell of a cook at the training ground in the 80s and 90s.Not sure if Carthorse Bramble is up to scratch though.How about ooh-ahh Paul McGrath he’d make it in the Drunk XI too.What about this Victorian local legend in goals?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Foulke_(footballer)
W:
‘Fatty Foulke’ A local lad. I do want Southall but with a name like fatty he’s going to be hard to ignore. Bramble is pretty fat to be fair.
Puskas is goin to be in with a shout surely. Still no place for Gazza and Barnes?I thought about Mickey Quinn but wasn’t he at Pompy for a while?
S:
to be fair to you the late Puskas was about a million times better than Quinn wasn’t he. 84 goals in 85 international matches. To be great and fat beats just being fat. He’s in. That’s why I prefer McGrath to Bramble. McGrath was a very good player, Bramble is… well he’s Bramble.
Barnes went fat towards the end of his career, he’s entitled to that. He never flew the flag for proudly portly players. How about Gazza for Sammy Lee? he did have fans throwing mars bars at him in his prime. that’s got to count for summat.
W:
Ok McGrath for Bramble and Gazza for Sammy Lee. The side was looking a bit scouse heavy.
You’ve gone with Fatty Foulkes then. Does it make you proud having a Dawley lad in?
S:
My formative years were spent in Dawley, and I believe the correct phrase in the local vernacular is “a Dawley mon”.
Fat XI (Final Draft)
1. Bill “Fatty” Foulkes (Sheff Utd)
2. Paul McGrath (Man Utd/Villa)
3. Julian Dicks (West Ham/Liverpool)
4. Steve Bruce (Man Utd)
5. Neil Ruddock (Southampton/Liverpool)
6. Paul Gascoigne (Newcaste/Tottenham/Rangers etc etc)
7. Matthew Le Tissier (Southampton)
8. Jan Molby (Livepool)
9. The Real Ronaldo (Real Madrid)
10. Diego Armando Maradona (Napoli/Rehab Centre XI)
11. Ferenc Puskas (Real Madrid)
W:
I stand corrected. Tell you what, what a side!! For the first 30 to 40 minutes there’ll be no stopping them. There will be no winners come the team bath at the end though
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Posted in Crown, Christmas at Wed 3 Jan 2007 by Stavros
So this is post-Christmas and what have I done, to paraphrase a dead Beatle. Well drinks after work broke up merged into a meal at the Valley in Ironbridge. That was followed by standing around in the cold by the bridge for an hour waiting for a taxi. The cold was to become a bit of a theme this yule. Christmas Eve brought more merry-making in the form of another meal in Ironbridge, this time at that old favourite, the Shiny Bollock (or the Golden Ball as the sign says). After failing to get a drink after at the Crown, a small but rowdy party of us descended upon the Claddagh for some ill-advised drinking, and some even iller-advised singing.
Christmas Day was nice and quiet. A few beers infront of the telly, and reading some of me new books. The football on Boxing Day promised much, but fell short in terms of quality on the pitch. Couldn’t fault the crowd though, over 4200 at a Unibond match is really quite extraordinary. Day after Boxing Day party was pretty good. A smaller party than previous instalments, but I invented a cocktail and got trolleyed anyway.
I was a bit ill for the next few days, not sure if it was connected to the cocktails or not. Stomach cramps and the toilet got more visits that the BBC website.
I was feeling better in time for New Year’s Eve which was nice (though I dared not stray too far from the delightful surrounds of the Crown’s “facilities”). It had taken a fair bit of effort to get a ticket for this exclusive event and by the god’s I was going to enjoy it. The sight of Fella and Rich in dresses and wigs was probably a fitting way to see out a year that had started with Fulla dressed as a Rubik’s cube.
All throughout this Christmas break our boiler and central heating spluttered and stalled more than a junior MP on Newsnight. This transformed our house a semi-detached fridge (albeit without the limp celery and yellowing mayonaise). So it currently has a sticker adorning it condemning it like one of Saddam’s mass destruction weapons (What? Really? None at all? Brink of civil war, you say? Hanged? Oh!).
And so, onto the present. Here we are in 2007, back at work and about as far away from the “swing of things” as is humanly possible with open eyes. Have a good year won’t you.
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