Tuesday 26 September 2017

St Ives Wives put to the..... Sword?

So we'd travelled north to the Shire (King's Langley), through Modor to Gosport, rung our sodden pants out into the volcano and  had a weekend off to save the tyre rubber, shoe leather and the bank manager giving us more shit for spending all our money in BP garages up and down the South East motorways and A roads. All we can taste is Ginsters, Fanta Lemon and Polos.

So to the first of two consecutive homes games, one after the other, four days after the other and no away games inbetween. On this run of games that were infinitely winnable we've scored seven and conceded just two, albeit we scored all seven before we conceded any and basically gave those away like an unpopular school kids virginity.

Devastating news before our Hampshire Cup tie at Fleet (which we don't really give a shit about until we get a semi) was that Dan "Football Focus" Walker was going to be recalled once his month loan was up. St Ives was to be his swan song (what the fuck is a swan song?!?) but fortunately they had brought their wives and Dan was ready with his big swinging dick to fuck them senseless. (Really got to stop with the weird sex metaphors)

Curo was on the bench as Walker was given his place in Spencer's favourite 4-3-3 alongside The Hoffen and Mustard. Glen "Fister" Southam has made the centre midfield his own and with Richlist's match fitness improving he started his first game of the season after coming on early for Bellamy at Gosport. As The Salmon was returning from suspension and Hightower was fit enough to return, Reg moved into midfield. The Organ returned to right back with Truncheon on the left.

Confidence was high, but the disappointing last hour against Gosport meant confidence wasn't as high as it could have been but having been so dominant and scoring four in the first half against Gosport meant confidence was high. In the first half hour.

Going forward we were dangerous. Defensively we were dangerous. Hightower was sloppy, The Salmon wasn't match fit. The Kits of St Ives had the best first chance as it was the first chance of the game and it was a very good attempt. Cross, header, ooooooh just wide, close, phew!

Up the other end, freekick, cross, volley from Walker, ballbag protectors tips, woodwork. Ooooosh!

But we didn't have long to wait for the lead. Cos we scored. Huzzah. Soccer happened, Reg, pass, puts Focus Walker in, tight angle? Is it bollocks. Bosh. Smashed past the ballbag security chap. Woo hoo. 1-0.

But fuck niggles, we contrived to balls it up in a Salisbury manner. Very little minutes of time had past when their big centre forward number 9 dude chased after an actually perfectly timed pass and not offside like the 18 Yarders believed and attempted to change the referees mind by shouting at him incessantly. He actually deserved it very shortly after but at that point him and the linesman chap were spot on. Anyway, as Chilli Con Cairney came galloping from his goal he seemed to forget what he was supposed to do next and ran past the ball. Their prick couldn't help but laugh as he casual slapped the ball in the onion bag, much like he would in the second half with his elbow connecting with The Salmon's face. But again, more of that later. 1-1. Shit on it! A little light relief came as Fister very vocally questioned what Chilli may have been playing at. He had no answer.

From this point onwards in the retelling of this tale, the referee will henceforth be known as "The Cunting Bellend" or TCB for short. And he was fucking short.

We think the goals may have displeased him up there in his ivory tower as he then went on a rampage of cautioning every minor misdemeanour with the kind of power trip normally associated with megalomaniac world leaders with shite hair.

First up on this menu of fuck awfulness was booking Fister for a slight tete-a-tete with one of their management, who in all fairness was a bit of a jeb but didn't make much of it and all it needed was a make up kiss and promise of a reach around after the game but TCB had a quiet word with the six foot plus bloke in the tracksuit and booked little feisty Fister.

He continued his one man show for the remainder of the first half by booking the majority of their offensive players for talking back and kicking the ball away. You'd have thought they might have learnt their lesson after the first few but in their defensive one was for a shot being taken moments after the whistle being blown for offside. The guy was on a mission to make it the Referee Show and when a cunt like that wants it to happen, it happens.

A bit before half time, Fister was shown his second yellow card. A late challenge which the St D'Ives lad made a reet meal of was launched upon by their pricks and the bellend prolonged the agony just long enough so he could have it seared into his wank bank for later.

We saw out the half with Good Evans coming on for Hightower who had been as wobbly as a Weeble all game. Reg moved back into the back four to continue his ongoing audition for player of the season.

The difficulty with regaling a story about a game from Saturday afternoon is that Saturday night happened and several bottles of wine to yourself later and you're utterly bollock faced and everything from that day becomes incomplete and hazy.

Anyway, the good news is TCB must have had a nice cup of camomile tea as he calmed the fuck down a bit in the second half but the Ive'rsons smelt blood and attempted to use their numerical advantage. Fortunately, they finished about as well as a sad twat in his pants at a strip club.

Several opportunities that were too long and turgid to go into it in much detail but were attempts that they tried to expertly curl and they just aren't that talented to pull off.

Although we weren't much better at the other end as we clawed our way back into the contest and were eventually helped out by their big prick up top who introduced his arm to The Salmon's nose and was given his marching orders not before giving the ref an earful which probably just excited TCB more. On subsequent viewing it appears it was a straight red not second yellow which was probably a bit harsh but the result was the same if not the length of suspension.

Ten a piece and we fucking went for it. Clintons had come on at half time and looked twice the player he had been since the opening game at St Neots (which incidentally is looking more and more like a cracking win) creating several chances and having a few himself. A dribbler, a toe poke and a drive blocked by the ballbag protectors goolies.

Curo hooked one from the bye line and almost under the bar but the bruised ballbag bloke tipped it over.

Maybe it wouldn't come. Maybe it would be the first draw of the season. Fuck that, we still had Football Focus. A great cross from The Organ missed everyone but Clintons brought the ball down on a five pence laid it back to Focus, drop of the shoulder, onto the right peg, smashed it into the near post, onion bag buster. 2-1!

YYYYYEEEEEEEESSSSSSSS!!

The worry then was that we'd shit a brick and let them back in it but they were knackered and a bit clueless by then.

And there it was. Another win. Third on the bounce. Momentum.

We didn't have long to wait for the next game at San Cheerio. Dorchester were making the trip up the country.

This is actually being finished after that match but I won't spoil it for you. Like the News before Match of the Day I won't tell you the score. You don't have to look away now though. No come back.... I HAVEN'T FINISHED!!

Now I have. Thanks for reading. We won 5-0! Only joking!

As always COME ON YOU YELLOWS!!



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