CUP SPECIAL! From Duncan Disorderly
WONDERERS SURRENDER WHITE FEATHERS TO PRINCE OF WALES
Hello all.
A touch of relief for the Wonderers from the relentless pressure of the A League was sadly not in evidence last night. There were lo-fives all round as they succumbed to the Prince of Wales (not in the biblical sense you understand). Even a recount proved a false dawn as it only meant that the loss was by three points instead of five. The Wonderers are progressing toward their ‘perfect season’ – no points at all.
Things began inauspiciously when the Wonderers had to do some impromptu furniture removing to find enough seats in the absolute crush. Protestations went unheard as the decibel level in the pub was as high as….as high as….as high as something that is very high. Added to this, nobody told the Wonderers that because the pub team was called the Prince of Wales, most of the questions would be about Wales. This was a Wales/Rugby Fest of massive proportions with some stupid car model names thrown in for good measure. “Never say Dai” should be the motto of future question setters!
Things took another turn for the worse when I was contacted by Billy Prattlefaggit (pictured here) whose temporary fame arising from my report last week has obviously gone to his nonagenarian head. He now seeks a place on the team as he thinks he can ‘do much better than those tossers”. I have tried to dissuade him by pointing out that he is probably too good for the Wonderers who, unlike him, have delusions of mediocrity, but he is nothing if not persistent, and has threatened to come and watch the next match.
The final insult came with the announcement that there were no post-match butties (probably because this is not a Welsh practise). Back in the safety of the Tavern I decided that it was time to do some raw head-on interviewing. First I tried to interview Wendy Brown, but she had gone home in a huff. Bob had gone home in his car. Most unlike Wendy but she has had a tough week. Wendy, as my regular readers will know, is from Liverpool, and there has been a spot of family bother recently. Her niece, Tracey was up before the magistrates with her boyfriend, Darren. They had both been found in flagrante underneath the fence at Becher’s Brook on the night before the Grand National earlier this year. The case was harrowing and the evidence embarrassing, but in the end the couple decided to plead guilty and asked for twenty seven other fences to be taken into consideration. Father Donald, from Darren’s local church remonstrated with him for his actions but Darren threw a bottle of disinfectant at the holy man, which resulted in his being fined for a bleach of the priest.
So I interviewed Nick Peck, alias “The Prince of Wails”. He was, understandably, unimpressed…
“I signed the effin’ petition to keep that effin’ pub open and I’m sorry I effin’ did now. You couldn’t hear yourself effin’ speak and I didn’t know that smoking was effin’ COMPULSORY in that effin’ place. And as for having no effin’ butties, well, I’m effin’ etc. etc.
Then I interviewed Tommo Cooper, who was much more philosophical about the whole thing. After checking that he was not, and had never been, a member of Plaid Cymru, he offered the following quote.
“It was OK, but I’m very, very hungry. Do you have any sandwiches about your person? Looking on the bright side we are still in the plate and plates are what I need. Cups I’ve got, but I broke two plates last week. Are you sure that’s not a sausage in your pocket?”
Clearly the Wonderers should sit down in a pub of their choice and ask themselves why they did not take the advice I offered last week. If they would have been in a proper frame of mind they would have claimed that having no butties after a competitive match was a breach of their Human Rights and should incur a four point penalty to the opposite team – that would have been it – job done! As it is, they can concentrate on the misery of the league.
As they say, you can lead a horse to water but you can’t put your eggs in one basket.
My advice is to keep trying, and remember, if all is not lost, then where is it?
Duncan
WONDERERS SURRENDER WHITE FEATHERS TO PRINCE OF WALES
Hello all.
A touch of relief for the Wonderers from the relentless pressure of the A League was sadly not in evidence last night. There were lo-fives all round as they succumbed to the Prince of Wales (not in the biblical sense you understand). Even a recount proved a false dawn as it only meant that the loss was by three points instead of five. The Wonderers are progressing toward their ‘perfect season’ – no points at all.
Things began inauspiciously when the Wonderers had to do some impromptu furniture removing to find enough seats in the absolute crush. Protestations went unheard as the decibel level in the pub was as high as….as high as….as high as something that is very high. Added to this, nobody told the Wonderers that because the pub team was called the Prince of Wales, most of the questions would be about Wales. This was a Wales/Rugby Fest of massive proportions with some stupid car model names thrown in for good measure. “Never say Dai” should be the motto of future question setters!
Things took another turn for the worse when I was contacted by Billy Prattlefaggit (pictured here) whose temporary fame arising from my report last week has obviously gone to his nonagenarian head. He now seeks a place on the team as he thinks he can ‘do much better than those tossers”. I have tried to dissuade him by pointing out that he is probably too good for the Wonderers who, unlike him, have delusions of mediocrity, but he is nothing if not persistent, and has threatened to come and watch the next match.
The final insult came with the announcement that there were no post-match butties (probably because this is not a Welsh practise). Back in the safety of the Tavern I decided that it was time to do some raw head-on interviewing. First I tried to interview Wendy Brown, but she had gone home in a huff. Bob had gone home in his car. Most unlike Wendy but she has had a tough week. Wendy, as my regular readers will know, is from Liverpool, and there has been a spot of family bother recently. Her niece, Tracey was up before the magistrates with her boyfriend, Darren. They had both been found in flagrante underneath the fence at Becher’s Brook on the night before the Grand National earlier this year. The case was harrowing and the evidence embarrassing, but in the end the couple decided to plead guilty and asked for twenty seven other fences to be taken into consideration. Father Donald, from Darren’s local church remonstrated with him for his actions but Darren threw a bottle of disinfectant at the holy man, which resulted in his being fined for a bleach of the priest.
So I interviewed Nick Peck, alias “The Prince of Wails”. He was, understandably, unimpressed…
“I signed the effin’ petition to keep that effin’ pub open and I’m sorry I effin’ did now. You couldn’t hear yourself effin’ speak and I didn’t know that smoking was effin’ COMPULSORY in that effin’ place. And as for having no effin’ butties, well, I’m effin’ etc. etc.
Then I interviewed Tommo Cooper, who was much more philosophical about the whole thing. After checking that he was not, and had never been, a member of Plaid Cymru, he offered the following quote.
“It was OK, but I’m very, very hungry. Do you have any sandwiches about your person? Looking on the bright side we are still in the plate and plates are what I need. Cups I’ve got, but I broke two plates last week. Are you sure that’s not a sausage in your pocket?”
Clearly the Wonderers should sit down in a pub of their choice and ask themselves why they did not take the advice I offered last week. If they would have been in a proper frame of mind they would have claimed that having no butties after a competitive match was a breach of their Human Rights and should incur a four point penalty to the opposite team – that would have been it – job done! As it is, they can concentrate on the misery of the league.
As they say, you can lead a horse to water but you can’t put your eggs in one basket.
My advice is to keep trying, and remember, if all is not lost, then where is it?
Duncan