Match 10 versus Nashua - the season on the line - bullet dodged!

We schlepped to the Outer Hebrides for the early kick off of the final match of the season. Everything was on the line .... three points and we were safe, one point or a loss and we were at the mercy of other results which meant that it really was squeaky bum time. The risk of the drop was looming large. The ref was on the scene very early and was impeccably turned out with matching everything. He checked us in and I spotted a somewhat alarming incident ... the ref asked Rob to remove his white ankle strap because it did not match his black socks ... evidently FIFA were cracking down on these details.

Peep, peep, we were off and the Celtic were playing well with some foraging runs into the Nashua box. Nashua weren't rolling over and played like a team that needed to secure points to avoid the drop. It was neck and neck for the first half but they did manage to put one into our onion bag despite Frank Paddles Clear parrying away an initial stinger of a shot. In the second half we battled back and Cain scored a stunner. I determined that this was his best goal of the season ... incidentally it was also his only goal of the season .... I thank you.

Then things turned sour as cards were brandished for seemingly innocuous offences. Our card point tally grew from 10 to 13 and then Sweeney got a straight red for hurling some naughty words at one of theirs. This meant that we were on 15 points and this was a catastrophe because of the corresponding two point deduction. We were going down .... or so we thought!

The next step in Celtic folklore was written by Yiannis Moorhen who crafted an epistle to the divisional director on the heels of some intense lobbying by Captain Flicky. The epistle was about fourteen pages long and dotted with case law references that supported the argument that the ref was in legal-speak ... a wanker. The long and short of the compelling arguments is that the straight red was changed to a yellow and 15 points became 14 points and hey presto ... Peabody were relegated! Justice was done.

The crime in question was not a red card offence and an overly officious ref came to his senses. The planets realigned and the universe was back in order. Interestingly every member of the Celtic squad put in a transfer request at the final whistle but went on to retract when the verdict came in ... that's what I call team chemistry.

The Fall 2017 season is over. We came in fifth out of six which is pretty bad but not as bad as Peabody. Next season New England Evolution are coming up and this should mean fireworks aplenty!

Match 8 and match 9

Match 8 versus Stoneham.

This was an important game for us and the key was to not get any card points. This was the key and was of vital importance and was critical and everyone knew it because Captain Flicky drilled the point home. It was more important that a win or a tie because one more card point meant a two point deduction and we would be in the shit. Guess what …. we got a card point and we are in the shit!

The game started nicely. We played some slick footy for the first twenty minutes and Lesley slotted home a deft goal. But then everything went to shit and we conceded four goals and then we got a card! Obviously I won’t name the player that got the card … that would be cruel and unwarranted but let’s just say he is a big, left footed, Greek fella. We now have two games left in the season. Two wins would mean that we avoid the drop and any other permutation could be trouble.

Match 9 versus NS Internationals.

I was away for this one … fly fishing in Colorado with my sons. I did call in for the scoop on Sunday morning and was informed that we had a two goal lead that somehow turned into a 2-2 tie. The win would have been nice but a point means that it all comes down to the last game of the season. We play Nashua in the Arctic Circle and a win is all we need … a tie or a loss could be curtains. I’m going on the record right now and I am predicting a two – nil win!!!

Game seven against Crapoli - Willberforce uses his melon!

I got a series of emails before the game from Yiannis Moorhen ... pictures of stuffed peppers, meatballs, sausages, salads, fixin's. Yiannis told me that his house smelled like an Italian restaurant and that I should remember to bring red wine. He also told me to bring tupperware and this was the key to my day ... I loaded up the motah with tupperware and I cleaned up. I spent this afternoon watching the Pats and had a little of Kate Moorman's salad and then a bowl of pasta ... mopped up with some garlic bread. Then I took the dog for a walk on the beach, came back home and had a little more pasta ... and so on and so forth. There was a little napping and some farting between refills.

Why do I mention this? Well I will tell you my friends ... for me the post game food is a big thing and when it's Moorman's turn we feast like kings because Kate delivers big time. All I had to do was bring the beer ... given the occasion, I gave this some serious consideration ... Yuengling for Dimos, Stella for Captain Flicky, Notch for Caino, Whales Tale for me, Octoberfest for Pat and Rolling Rock for Rob ... I know, I know ... he likes Bud Light but I just could not go there. I bought the beer in Swampers (home town) and someone may have seen me walking out of the liquor store and I just could not risk the humiliation ... I would have been a laughing stock ... I know, I know ... I am already a laughing stock in town but getting caught buying Bud really is painting yourself into a corner.

It's now about 8pm and I'm building up a serious head of steam and I'm not complaining ... well seasoned pasta farts really are a mellifluous treat. If these farts were orchestrated they would be played by a French horn.

Moving on to the match summary. Here is a video of the pre-match motivational speech delivered by Captain Flicky:

Woops .. wrong video. Well it's close enough.

Now where was I .... Crapoli showed up with nine subs. The team that we played last season formed their bench which meant that we had to play the team on the pitch and they were a bit useful as we discovered the last time we played them. They were good but we were not going to capitulate. Despite them scoring the first goal we were very much in the game and in the second half Wilberforce Mad Man McCarthy rose like a breaching whale and got his melon on a cross from Pat that cannoned into the back of the old onion bag. Will had done it once again and is the top scorer on the team. The game finished at one apiece and Crapoli dropped two points for only the second time this season. Next week we play Stoneham and I know that we are gonna beat them like scurvy dogs.

Stoneham and North Shore both won today so it's a three horse race for top spot and a three horse race to avoid the drop.

Game 6 versus Peabody - the turning point!

This was the big one. We spanked Peabody four nil and Willberforce McCarthy bagged a hat trick! Mad Will scored three goals ... one with his melon in the first half and two with his left peg in the second and let me tell you ... he slotted those balls into the back of the old onion bag with a coolness that was a sight to behold. My goal was from a perfect through ball that fell invitingly and beckoned me to smash it .. which I did.

More important than the goals was the general state of play. Our passes were crisp and accurate. We had the lions share of the possession and were never troubled by the Pea Brains. My theory on all of this is because it was Andy's first game back. With the A man back at sweeper we could put all of the chess pieces back in the correct positions. Rob and Leslie were positioned in front of the back three and so on an so forth. Everyone played well including Moorman who wasn't even there.

Will prepared a feast of a lunch ... mac and cheese and pulled pork sliders ... it really was Will's day. The only blot on our copy book was in the card department. Silvio got the first for lobbing the ball away but it was all a big misunderstanding and he is absolved of the crime. Paschal the international man of mystery committed a cardable offense by booting the ball away and this was a moment of sheer madness. He has agreed to be publicly stoneed before the next game in the center circle by the entire team.

Prediction ... we will beat Crappoli!

Game five versus Nashua

We lost 4-0. I'm gonna gag.

Week four versus North Shore International men of mystery

We rose at daybreak ... well actually we all got to sleep in a bit because of the 10.30 am kick off time. We made out way out to North Reading on a bright, sunny, hot and humid late summer day. It was first place (3 and 0) hosting last place (0 and 3) but the mood of the Celtic buoys was quite chipper nonetheless. Today we were going to win and our season would begin in earnest ... I know this to be the case because Captain Flicky said so. From the starting whistle I could see that they were not as good as their record and we were playing some decent footy. The scoring went like this ... 1 to them, 1 to us, 1 to them, 1 to us. Both of our goals were scored by Tony who was playing a blinder. We hit the bar and they hit the bar.

Mike Grubor came on in the second half and gave us a boost ... a big, strong target man up front. Inter  identified the problem were all over him like a cheap suit. With ten minutes to go I managed to poke a ball between two defenders who were swarming Mike, cut through the gap and belted one into the far corner of the net. We were ahead! For the last few minutes we got everyone behind the ball and saw out the game. The league leaders were beaten.

We adjourned to a shady spot under a tree and guzzled fresca's and ate pasta salad. The buoys were happy. Next weekend everyone is out but we'll win anyway.

Week three versus Stoneham

We hosted our old enemies from Stoneham with the two of us locked on zero points at the bottom of the table ... a highly irregular situation. Stoneham appeared to be the usual strong squad with perhaps one new addition. We were fairly even through the first half with chances at both ends but we managed to go ahead with a cut back from this Limey bastard to Dimos who deftly controlled and slotted into the old onion bag. We led at the half but coughed up two goals in the second and that proved to be too much for us. A 2-1 loss and things are not looking good as we prop up the table with no points. Captain Flicky changed tactics for this game by lining up 4-3-3 and the pre game consensus was that this made sense ... the post game consensus was ... well, I don't know what it was ..  warm day, tired legs in the second half and some mutterings about needing to get into better shape.

Lunch was good ... Irish stew prepared by Paschal and Frank.

The next game is the big one ... away at NS internationals. These chaps are unbeaten and top of the table and I am stating right now that we are gonna beat them!

Week 2 versus Crapoli

Well what can I scribble about this one? Crapoli evidently are no longer crap ... some new faces on their team including a couple of migrants from other clubs and a very, very good keeper. We got a four nil spanking and all I can say about that is that the result was probably about right. I will mention some bright points ... Cain provided a highly palatable bagel brunch and Brian supplied copious beers.

The Fall 2017 season hath begun!

Game one versus Peabody ... season opener was a 2-1 loss!!!

So here's the poop. We had 18 subs and they had a gaggle of players so we were evenly matched on numbers. Captain Flicky organized and motivated with the flair of Mourinho and the drive of Klopp but something went awry. Doug Vee is doing some forensic work on what he feels may be Captain F's defective white board. To the match ... the numbers tell the story ... we had 105% possession, hit the post 21 times and the bar 32 times. We had 82 corners and they had one. They only got into our half thrice although on two of these forays they scored ... and when I say scored, I mean that we gave them two goals. I could go into exhaustive detail about the match but I only write flowing prose when we win. Dimos scored our only goal by weaving around the keeper and slotting home comfortably. We played some decent football but the melon just would not go in the old onion bag ... I'm just spit balling here but it could be that fruit and vegetables just don't mix.

Moving  on ... here's the thing .... Paschal the international man of mystery once again proved that he is an enigma of a puzzle of a mystery wrapped up in a conundrum. We played pickup on Wednesday as usual and adjourned to the rubber for sherberts. Paschal was the last to leave at around midnight and then the trail went cold. Paschal literally disappeared. I know what you are thinking ... a nocturnal shag fest with a goat ... you might be right but the truth is that nobody knows what happened ... more to come? Perhaps or perhaps not ... the urban legend that is Paschal lives on and he's keeping his own counsel.

Back to the footy ... NS Internationals gave Stoneham a tonking and Crappoli tied Nashua. The table looks decidedly upside down right now but it's early days and our trip to Crappoli this week should put the cat among the pigeons or my name's not Arthur Pewty.

Arthur Pewty (not).

The end of the road.

We woz robbed!

From the first minute to the last minute we were all over them like a cheap suit. I can't believe that they got the win because we were the far better team ... better team spirit, better looking, taller, wittier and not spotty. Truth is slightly different but I just can't go there and I can't explain that they won 2-0.

Stoneham squeaked past Medfield and went on to lose 3-0 to Concord in the final. It was a good season for us and I enjoyed writing this gibberish.

Game 10 versus Andover Grand Masterbators

Sunday morning June 11th was a hot one ... hot enough to boil a monkey's bum (to quote the prime minister). The grass at Sharpeners Pond in North Andover was long and the pitch was now going the other way ... as my dad would say, it was a bit "skew whiff". My late dad was a hail fellow well met unlike our hosts who trash talked to a fair thee well ... they were "foul fellows ill met". Captain Flicky was at a gala luncheon in Blighty so we had to fend for ourselves. Andy took the reins and lined us up 3-2-3-2 or 3-5-2 if you prefer. We managed this without the white board and markers which was astonishing given the attention span of our squad. We scored first ... this Limey bastard from the right hand side of the box with the left peg. I know, I know ... typo, error, hallucination .... but it really was scored with me left ... and it was a shot .... and it did go in. My first this season. They scored to tie it up ... a rubbish shot that I remember nothing of other than it's rubbish-ness. We scored with a belter from Pat ... his first of the season. They scored again and I know nothing of it other than ... it was rubbish. The go ahead goal came from Doug the subway fugitive Viggliolottaoilonpizza ... a shot in anger, driven hard and low into the corner of the old onion bag. I managed to get the fourth goal at the death ... ball was loose, they were knackered so I smashed the thing into the roof of the net, shuffled back to the center spot, they kicked off and the ref blew. The masterbators were relegated, we were going to the play offs and it was time to get into some dry shreddies sharpish.

I took the post game shreddy swap to a whole new level this week. Here is how it worked. I know that Rob is eager to learn my secret to a comfortable undercarriage:

1. Open two car doors to form quasi changing room.
2. Place dog mat on the ground between doors. Pooch loses out.
3. Place dry shreddies on roof of car.
4. Step into changing room.
5. Drop kecks.
6. Pause to enjoy breeze (not too long lest the authorities catch wind).
7. Don dry shreddies.
8. Enjoy.
9. Go about the rest of your day.

Woops ... forgot to mention that you should put your trousers on after the dry shreddies ... I've made that mistake before and had a lot of explaining to do. Yiannis Moorhen represented me with a "dementia/post game beer fog" defense that worked well with a jury of my peers.

OK so where was I? Ah yes ... the post game celebrations. We drove to Pat's house to enjoy a veritable feast. The beer flowed like wine allowing me to once again use this daft expression and make myself laugh as I scribble. Pat's salad was a cracker because it has blueberries in it ... an anti oxidant feastival. I think that the blueberries made me fart but it's hard to know given my perpetual tail wind. There was a chicken and sausage pasta sauce concoction and lots of garlic bread for mopping up the sauce. The banter was right there and was led by the king of all banter ... Doug the subway fugitive who recounted tales of nefarious activities.

Derek deserves a mention because he really did a number on Thomas and kept the danger man in check. I learned after the game that in addition to the running physical battle, Thomas also gave Derek the verbal treatment for the whole game. This tactic would never work on Derek who has only spoken twice this season ... the first time was so utter "fuck, that hurt" and the second "what the fuck was that for?" Brian Sweenmerchant had a good game and perfected his cursing with every clearance ... usually "mutherfucker" or "suckmyd*ck". Will shouted a lot of obscenities although mainly at fellow team mates ... Frank is changing his meds so that the insults are directed at the other team from now on. The anger management classes just aren't working for Wilberforce ... boys, we may need an intervention.

Stoneham pipped us by a point which is perplexing and I can't fit any more P words into this sentence. Next Sunday we battle Concord in the semi finals of the play offs and this time I think we will win ... probably with a brace from Paschal who is being released from solitary for the game.

That's it from the grassy knoll. We have the beast in our sights!

Game 9 versus Peabody

This was a mid week fixture and we won 4-1. It was wet and cold. Details might follow but probably not.

Game 8 versus Crapoli - a slight stumble!

First off a question ... what's a Grecian earn? Answer ... about thirty bob a week. I just realized that this joke really doesn't work in written form .... urn = earn. Anyway, moving on. This game was dominated by a lamb on a spit. Dimos was at Captain Gilfeather's ranch at daybreak to personally insert a long shaft into the cavity of the beast which was thence duly trussed up. The lamb was cooked over an open fire for hours whilst being attended to by a couple of amiable fellows who apparently guard roasting meats for Dimos on a fairly regular basis ... there must be a name for such a service but I don't know it ... lamb shaftee attendants perhaps? After the match we trogged over to Captain Gilfeather's but the beast was not ready for consumption so we drank away the time and eventually we feasted like real men ... gorging on hunks of tender meat and guzzling tankards of mead. I farted my way home and collapsed on the couch in a lamb coma ... hours passed by which time the fermentation process in my belly produced some prize winning emissions. Eventually I showered, donned some clean shreddies and honked away the afternoon until I dragged myself to a graduation party where I ate nothing and drank nothing for the simple reason that nothing would fit. ... a great day.

What of the footy? We were crap in the first half. Everyone played like crap (and I was the crappest of all) and we coughed up two goals. Andy gave a Churchillian half time speech and we played much better although not at our best. Captain Flicky belted one in from an improbably angle and Dimos got the second. We really needed a winner but it was not to be. Two wins from our last two games will be needed to secure top spot and I think it will come to pass.

Foreplay.

A smiling "bubble" completing insertion.

Let the drinking begin.

Political discourse.

I'll have a wing.

Doug V doing what he does best .... talking loudly.

Game 6 versus North Andover ... Celtic move to top of the table.

Let's start with the pub celebrations at 466 where the beer flowed like wine and the pizza flowed like wine too ... piping hot, non liquid, crusty wine with goat cheese on top. Celtic are big fans of the goat cheese despite Captain Flicky's protestations.  

Caino the chairman of Vanderlay Industries giving the thumbs up sign after signing up Sam as his latex salesman.

Derek tried some mind games by sitting right next to me and drinking a beer that shall remain nameless. I averted my eyes but my heart knew the evil brew was close and it gave me shpilkes. Consumption of such a crap beer is a sin in the old country and would get you placed on a beer offenders registry. I made allowances because Derek did chase their forward around all evening and sustained an almighty whack in the calf that went into spasm ...a spasm that went to his brain in the pub. Look at that face ... the madness is right there in his mince pies.

Anyway, moving on to the game. It was not a game of three halves, it was a game of two halves. In the first half they were better than us and they scored but we were not ourselves ... there was complacency and that is not us. Captain Flicky knew it and went into Mourinho mode at half time, rallied the troops with an uplifting "I had a dream"-ish speech. We came out like a rat out of an aqueduct and pressed Andover hard and played with a much higher line. Sam found himself in the right place at the right time off a corner and belted one into the back of the old onion bag. Time stood still after this as the ball squirted around the box and presented itself perfectly for Tony ... who promptly dispatched it into the night sky .... it was a shocker and Tony is getting counseling for missing a sitter. Towards the end of the game there were a series of Barcelona-mid-season-form-ish passes involving Cain, Pat and Rob who carved open the Andover defense with a through ball to Caino who dispatched the orb into the net like a champ. Caino peeled away to celebrate in style and the crowd went wild. Andover were pretty knackered in the third half but did cause some consternation at the back ... consternation not constipation! They hit the post and the bar but Frank the cat swatted away everything else in his usual commanding style. There were some fistycuffs on the Andover bench with a couple of their chaps throwing wobblers ... always a good sign for us.

We moved into top spot and there was talk of the play offs. Next up is Peabody and I'm predicting a goal fest.

The beast has been slain! Celtic beats Stoneham 3-2 !!!!!

Celtic beat Stoneham today and I'm thinking that it is because we scored more goals than they did. Yiannis Moorhen has reviewed my findings and concurs with said findings.

We closed them down from the start to the finish across the whole pitch, they had no time on the ball and could not play their game. Our tackles had bite, our goals were clinical and we had belief and everyone played well ... but it was the "belief" that really did it ... that and the fact that we scored more goals than them .. but mainly it was BELIEF.

We scored first with Rob putting one in the back of the old onion bag. He scored with this foot (see pic below) ... as you can see all too well, one of the toenails is horribly disfigured and apparently Rob drilled a hole in it to release a geyser of blood that made his dog barf. I am submitting this image to the New England Journal of Medicine as an example of horribly disfigured human toe.

Oy gevalt.

The second came from Dimos and I don't remember much about it although I do know that it was a cracker .... this just in ... it was a bloody cracker. The third goal came from Wilberforce McCarthy who was sent through with an incisive pass (from horrid toe man I believe) ... Will took a couple of touches, did not go all "twinkle toes" but simply slotted low and hard into the back of the old onion bag with his left peg and without so much as a by your leave.

Here is a picture of Will recreating the exact move that was his goal.

 Both of their goals were the result of mistakes at the back but we always led and there was no question that we would prevail ... no question at all. Frank was in the sticks and made some great saves. The media reported that one of the Stoneham players made the following comment ... "we woz bloody knackered chasing you lot all over the park ... we were up and dan the flanks like a tarts knickers" ... the player in question is from Canvey Island I believe. When I was a lad back in the old country we used to say that Canvey was the carbunkle on the backside of Britain.

The three goal scorers sporting libations ... left to right: Dewey, Cheatham and Howe.

We play Andover on Tuesday under the lights and I'm going on the record right now by stating that we will win ... three nil! 

Game five-ish versus Andover

What can I tell you ... this one was a bit of a dogs dinner.

Loads of our chaps were down in Myrtle Beach for the Long Haddock's annual golf fest. Nevertheless we showed up ready to play and so did they ... or so we thought? The ref did not show up so Yiannis Moorhen volunteered to officiate and both teams accepted that the game would count. Play started and it was a fairly even encounter until somewhere around minute 35 when there was a clash of melons. Paschal the international man of mystery collided with Keith Nichols from Andover and Keith came down hard and started bleeding profusely from the temple. The game stopped and an ambulance was called. Keith appeared to need stitches and was badly bruised. Paschal seemed to be fine although some were concerned that he was cackling like a crazy man ... however someone pointed out that was his normal laugh.

The Borquemeister showed up!

Sam seducing Dimo.

At this point everything went weird. Andover downed tools and called an end to the game and then a protracted negotiation ensued. I won't bore you with the details but they wanted a 0-0 tie to be the result and we wanted a replay. Captain Flicky came back from Myrtle and went to work on brokering a deal and we replay the match on Tuesday ... Captain Flicky strategic mastermind and ... master negotiator.

Game four versus Crappoli

Crappoli did their usual nonsense with their home field but Captain Flicky executed plan B flawlessly and we moved the game to grass at home in Danvers, It was a sunny and bright day and the pitch was in decent shape after our crack maintenance crew did the honors the day before. Captain Flicky started us off in the patented 3-5-2 formation which has proven to be quite effective this season. Crappoli are a decent team with some skillful players but they could not trouble us and I don't think that Frank had a single serious shot in anger to deal with. They are a tetchy team however and they squawked over every perceived injustice. FYI blokes that behave like this back in the old country are known as "wankers".

Rob was sporting new boots which he proudly showed off to me before kick off. Evidently he was so embarrassed by his non matching boots last week that he rectified the problem. However, the new boots still clashed so look out for a new pair for the next match because Rob won't settle until he gets this right.

We dominated the game and it could have been six nil but alas only one went in the back of the old onion bag. The goal was scored by Dimos who took a fairly tame shot in the first half that the Crappoli keeper bobbled and flubbed into his own net. We had many other chances but could not break them down any further. I counted at least six near misses.

Derek came down with leprosy before the game but did show up with victuals that were gobbled up by the starving hoards ... sausage and meat balls in marinara sauce ... and this time Caino did not soil his bib. On the libation front the BEER FLOWED LIKE WINE!!! Let me assure you that I will be using this phrase much more often because it is quite silly.

Here is a nice picture of Derek feeling like crap, JB doing post match calisthenics whilst sporting an odd expression, Caino picking his hooter and Paschal laughing like a mental person.

Stoneham squeaked a win over Peabody which is puzzling. The NS Internationals crushed Andover who have now been soundly spanked twice ... one more spanking would be thrice spanked and with luck we will be administering this next week. We stay in second spot locked on points with Stone of the village Ham who have a game in hand. Andover are anchored at the bottom of the table with no points and a negative 15 goal difference which is really quite disgraceful.

Dr Serge Icklestocking.

Game three versus North Shore Internationals

The ship has been stabilized and order re-established. Played three, won two, securely in second spot in the league which means that Champions League footy is secure.

It was a warm, sunny spring day and the lads turned up in force. Sam was away so Frank went in between the pipes and performed admirably. Andy and Rob were back from injuries so the shape of the team was solid. The only slightly unsettling issue was that Rob's boots did not perfectly match his shirt. Anyway, to the action. We scored first with a cracker from Cain. They scored and leveled things and we went into the half tied at one apiece. At halftime there was a lot of talk ... we need to play wider, we need to play narrower, we need to keep it simple, we need to push up .... none of it really made any sense but some kind of consensus was reached and we went back to work. In the second half Douglas Hornblower Vigglialottapizza bagged one and Cain rounded things out with a third close to the final whistle. Caino bagged two on the day which is highly commendable for a natural left back. The Celtic were not at their best today but we were better than them and that's just fine.

Because of the heat the sweat quotient was high and Rob scrambled to get his dry shreddies on pitch side right after the final whistle ... this is a commendable commitment to the joy of having a dry undercarriage. I did the same thing in the wind tunnel between two cars in the parking lot and I confess that I let the air blow for quite some time ... quite pleasurable. I just hope that the cameras around the school did not pick up on this because I could have some splaining to do!

Jan Lebel representing our supporters club showed up for the second half and stood hand on hips overseeing proceedings with an icy stare ... no wonder things turned around for us. North Andover got a 7-0 tonking from Stoneham so our mid week debacle did not seem quite so bad.

Game two versus Stoneham ... the sobering.

Where to start? I just cued up the Thomas Newman theme music from Revolutionary Road to settle my bowels before writing. Last night we were stricken by some last minute injuries to a few key players but we started well against our nemesis Stone of the town Ham. We played remarkably well for the first ten or fifteen minutes and I thought that we would win the game but they struck on their only look at our goal. After this setback we coughed up a penalty and they hit the back of our net again. Two down at the half but I felt that we could get back into it but the wheels fell off completely in the second half and I can't even write the final score. I just can't ... do ... it .... Jim!

  

Here's the thing though ... we play again on Sunday and we will rally. We shall rise ... we shall rise at daybreak and will do battle. Some of us may lose our breakfast but remember ... indigestion is but a moment, cowardice is a lifetime of affliction! Where was I ... oh yes, we will play hard, we will win and after the game I am going fishing in the half-light of the canyon where all existence fades to a being with my soul and memories and the sounds of the river and a four count rhythm and the hope that a fish will rise.

Richard Ferbrains.

Opening day .... IT'S TIME FOR SPRING FOOTY!!!!

If footy be the food of love, play on. Give me excess of it so that surfeiting I may sicken and so die!
Brian Shakespeare from Basildon in Essex.

Up early. Tinkle. Shuffle around a bit. Make small poo. Drink juice, brush teeth and make another more substantial poo. Out the door. When I arrived at the pitch some of the boys are ready to go ... here is a picture of the early morning crew. I know that you are thinking ... looks like a work release program from the local penitentiary.

It's a nice day in New England ... sunny and mild. Yup ... Sunday morning footy is here again and it's the season opener against Peabody. Captain Flicky distributes all new kit including warm up jackets with the name of the team on the back. There was talk of a promotion for CF to Brigadier Bostridge for coming through with the nice new duds.

The warm up jackets are virgin white and Caino was the first to befoul/violate/besmirch his jacket with marinara sauce during the early stages of the post match feasting. Captain Gilfeather supplied the victuals ... sausages and meatballs ... and they hit the spot. Bwian (Wearly Centuwian) Sweeney supplied the suds and they were plentiful and wet.

Celtic played with poise for the entire match. Bagged three, conceded none and took all of the points. It was a bit of stroller and perhaps we should have bagged a few more goals. Peabody caused us no problems and I don't think they had an actual shot on goal. Our first was scored by Rob Lebel who went on a mazy run right down the center of the park, slotted home with ease and wheeled away to soak up the applause of the capacity crowd. Rob did look a bit like Georgie Best in his glory days. Number two was scored from a corner taken by this Limey. The ball lofted over everyone and the keeper took an air swipe at it but it dropped perfectly for Dimos who just stroked it into the net with his left peg. Number three was nodded in by Andy with his melon. It was late in the game and Andy moved quite a way up the field from his center back spot .... some say he was actually standing in the goal but the rules committee did credit him for putting one in the back of the old onion bag. 

Peabody are a bit of a mystery ... some skillful players many of whom were beaten as children and play a dirty bad tempered form of the game. Their number ten (real name actually is "Number Ten" because he is the 10th of 11 kids) was red carded deep into the second half and I think the reason was that he was behaving like a wanker .... which is a red card offense in any language. I'm going out on a limb and predict that Peabody will be going down to D2 this year.

That's it from the grassy knoll.

Hugh Jorgan.

Kick off

Subject: Celtic versus Andover post match analysis

I say you chaps.

The North Shore Celtic were guided this day by interim manager Hugh Jorgan the Danish midfielder from the dodgy part of London. Captain Flicky was away on international duty but handed off copious notes, a white board with colored markers and a sack of partially deflated balls ... all Jorgan had to do was follow instructions because Celtic are brimming with talent this season and coming off an opening day thrashing of Crapoli FC. The pre-match warm ups were unremarkable except for the wild and crazy uniform infraction sported by Paschal the international man of mystery, who wore .... black shorts. Captain Flicky will be issuing a strongly worded letter to bring the miscreant into line. Celtic lined up 3-2-3-2 with Commodore Arnold at the point of the spear and Rob Lebel keeping it tight at the back.

Peep, peep and we were off and the obviously hung over long haddock (Arnold) immediately subbed out to have his stomach pumped. Andover could not really penetrate the Celtic back line but one chap did threaten. Lebel was onto the danger and chased him into the box and unceremoniously scythed him down, scalped him, spat at him in the face and insulted his mother. The ref pointed to the spot and every Celtic player on the pitch protested furiously although coincidentally everyone on the bench agreed that it was a stone cold penalty. Sam tried a few mind games and some jiggery pokery but the ball was dispatched to the back of the old onion bag without so much as a "by your leave". They were up by one at the half although they were not the better team and they weren't as good looking and did not have a good sense of humor and they smelled really bad. The Celtic midfield basically controlled the first half and our defense was untested. Caino effectively played as a left back for them for the first half which meant that he did a fine job of staying offside for us. Andover were a dirty lot and committed about three hundred fouls in the first half. Paschal was pushed to breaking point, threw a wobbler and got into it with one of them ... insults were traded and cards were issued. The usually mild mannered Paschal showed his mad, violent side and Doug V has been asked to investigate further to find out who he really is ... I'm thinking double agent, drug mule, flesh trade king pin ... Irish contractor guy ... I think not!

The second half was all Celtic. We were awarded a penalty for one of the Andover wankers stuffing a bee up Doug V's shreddies ... at least that's what it looked like from my vantage point on the grassy knoll next to the book depository. Pat stepped up and belted the ball into the net. The game was locked up but Celtic had the wind in their sails and their jibs were fluttering and other nautical expressions too. For the last twenty minutes it was all Celtic ... wave after wave of attack until in the closing seconds Hugh Jorgan picked up the ball on the circle, skipped past two flailing midfielders and rifled one into the top corner from thirty yards out. It was a stunning strike and Andover were done for. The capacity crowd of Jan Lebel, stopped talking into her cell phone for about thirty seconds and started clapping wildly. Confession ...  I made up that whole last bit.

We dropped two points today but I wager we'll give 'em a spanking in Danvers. Afterward everyone headed to Pat's house for a royal feasting ... seafood fra diavolo and a fantastic salad. The sauce was top shelf and mopped up with hunks of garlic bread. Beers were drunk, gas was passed and we all watched the Chelsea-Swansea match on the tele. 

That was exactly how it was and if anyone tells you anything different ... don't believe them.

Grant aka Hugh.

North Shore Celtic versus Nashua post match analysis

I say you chaps,

The Celtic travel to some far flung locales in the glamorous world of over the hill footy, and Nashua is truly on the outer edge of our solar system. Captain Flicky insisted that everyone arrive in Pluto (not a planet but a gelatinous mass) by 8am which meant that we had to leave on Thursday. Three times zones later we were pitch side with a full squad ... a pretty impressive turnout. I had taken Captain Flicky's deflated balls and pumped them to bursting point so in between trips to the porta potties to tinkle the lads belted rock hard cannon balls toward goal while Sam dodged and ducked to avoid a series of concussions. 

A gentle sprinkling on the otherwise hard baked pitch certainly did not soften the Celtic who systematically pummeled Nashua to a 6-3 spanking. We had em down by three and then let them close the gap to two ... and repeat. I looked over the game notes from my ruthlessly efficient intern/fact checker and here is how the scoring went:

We scored ... almighty toe poke from Tony.

We scored ... Paschal the deep cover spy with a left footed lob/cross that he really knew nothing about but dropped in the back of the old onion bag.

We scored ... Captain Flicky near post belter.

They scored ... fuckers.

We scored ... Ian coolly slotting home while sending the keeper the wrong way.

They scored ... buggers.

Notes missing ... tinkle break.

We scored ... Cain with his melon rising like a salmon to out-jump the keeper.

They scored ... turd burglars.

We scored ... Boomer off a driven grass cutter.

They scored ... no it was us again. Hang on .. no that's it. 

Well, you get the general idea and I certainly don't want you to get mired in the details ... there were a lot of goals and my intern is being dismissed for gross negligence. Captain Flicky bagged our only card for ... please pick your answer from the three options below. 

A. A violent studs up tackle.

B. Deliberate handball.

C. Mouthing off to an opponent and then getting so wild that when the ref tried to cool him down he basically told the ref to shove it and essentially talked himself straight into the book. Throw in an attempted head butt and pepper the confrontation with words like "wanker" and "tosser" and you have the standard Captain Flicky yellow card scenario.

Helpful note ... the answer is C. 

I'm kidding it's A.

Nah ... it's C.

We drove south to Frank's house and feasted on mutton and mead served by buxom serving wenches and sang conquest songs to lutenist accompaniment. 

That was almost exactly how it was and if anyone tells you anything different ... don't believe them.

Drew Blood.

North Shore Celtic versus Stoneham post (oh yes .. post) match analysis.

I say you chaps,

This was the big one ... the match up between the two top dogs. Captain Flicky huddled with his close advisers for hours to devise a plan that would unlock Stoneham and put the cat among the pigeons and give them something to think about and a true test for the league leaders and other things too.

It was a lively start by the Celtic as Field Marshall Arnold passed back to "Pat the Irish Iniesta" who shot from the center circle, clipped the underside of the bar and caught the Stoneham keeper off his line. Celtic were up by one in the space of ten seconds. The next goal arrived three minutes later ... Doug Vigglialottalinguine curled in a corner and Big Sam came up from a very deep lying position and nutted in from five yards out. Paschal "Danger" Corrigan scored number three on the stoke of halftime with an athletic bicycle kick that rocketed into the bottom corner of the old onion bag. Secret service police stormed the pitch during the goal celebration and bundled Corrigan into an unmarked car ... presumably for "questioning". Absolutely nothing happened in the second half because I could not think of anything to write and needed to make a tinkle. Final score 3-0 to Celtic who took the top spot from Stoneham in emphatic style. Stoneham did not get a single shot on goal and could muster no more than 10% ball possession, most of which was "testicular" in nature. Somewhat unusually all four of the other teams in the league lost which helped Celtic separate from the pack.

That was almost exactly how it was and if anyone tells you anything different ... don't believe them.

Cuthbert Nosleeves.

PS ... good luck tomorrow lads ... I will be fishing in the Gunnison Gorge in Colorado. HJ.

North Shore Celtic versus Peabody Gold post match analysis.

Captain Flicky in his pre game inspirational monologue talked of "lung busting" runs which transposed verbally as "bung lusting" although my ears heard "bum lusting". Paschal aka Vladimir the deep cover spy, drug mule and gigolo also heard "bum lusting" and immediately started to fidget excitedly as a deep itch got scratched and the huddle of Celtic players nervously sidled away.

Celtic had a full squad turn out which would have had lesser managers squirming but Captain Flicky had things well in hand ... fearless leadership. We pummeled them in the first half and should have had at least a three goal lead by the break but strangely it was all square. The second half got off to a flyer with two goals from Caino (a natural left back by the way) and one from Boomer who stretched his neck sinews and turned a crossed ball into the back of the old onion bag with his melon ... vegetables and fruits combining nicely. We had more chances and could have easily bagged six on the day but three was a job well done and Sam really only had to make a couple of saves. Captain Flicky only made one bonafide flick all game according to my records ... this Limey tried to enhance the flick quotient and drew howls of derision from the subs bench for daring to emulate the master ... lesson learned. Their number ten certainly put the cat among the pigeons a few times with some ill timed tackling but he was well contained by the Celtic back line who also insulted him in various languages. I chatted with the chap after the match and learned that his name was Richard Ferbrains ... Dick to his friends!  

Elsewhere around the league ... Stoneham strangely lost to Nashua which closed the gap to two points at the top and sets things up nicely for this coming weekend ... Andover play Stoneham which should be an interesting match while we go to Crapoli where we will be intent on picking up three points and expanding our goal difference ... anything less just would not be cricket.

Boomer served Schweddy balls after the match ... hand rolled and creamy and Vladimir was seen to cram four or five into his pie hole at one time ... a quite disturbing image. I do have a serious observation ... we are playing some good footy this season with plenty of short passing and possession and this 3-5-2 formation seems to be working well. This is probably the only sensible thing I have written this season and I don't feel at all comfortable straying away from my usual gibberish.

That was exactly how it was and if anyone tells you anything different ... don't believe them.

Pete Schweddy.

PS ... Trump has the mind of a duck!

North Shore Celtic versus Crappoli post match analysis.

It was a bit wet and chilly but the Celtic were all fired up to administer a damned good spanking to Crappoli who made the unscheduled trip to Danvers after cocking up their home field for the nth time. This was not just a regular spanking ... but rather the mightiest spanking of the season. We put them to the sword with three goals in the first half and six in the second and all of the goals were scored by Rob with his left foot ... an incredible performance especially considering that the lad didn't even make the game. Celtic won the possession game by a country mile with some nice passing in the midfield.

Job done. Moving on to the real action of the day ... the post game celebration ... a table and canopy were erected pitch side while the rain lashed and the wind battered the chaps who feasted undaunted. Refreshments were presented ... Andy made top shelf sausage, onions and peppers and provided an assortment of cold suds. Next up was my chili with french bread ... dessert was a cookie assortment from the good section of the bakery. The sodden boys tucked in while Crappoli made their exit with their tails between their legs. Banter ensued and pictures of the semi-drowned squad were taken ... 

Elsewhere around the league ... Stoneham beat Andover. Next week we host Andover and a Celtic victory means that the playoffs will be a gnats winkle away ... I believe that we are going to win all of our remaining games ... a bold statement I know but I stand by it. I would be remiss if I did not mention the highlight of yesterdays match ... mid way through the second half Captain Flicky executed a perfect back flick ... the right move at the right time and .... what's more .... it went to one of our players .... a rare sight indeed and a fabulous crowd pleaser. The day was complete and the boys meandered off to spend the afternoon contentedly farting on couches.

Keep it tight at the back,

Earnest Scribbler.

PS ..... some words from a wise statesman:

 "Iraq and Iran were very similar militarily, and they’d fight, fight, fight, and then they’d rest. They’d fight, fight, fight, and then Saddam Hussein would do the gas, and somebody else would do something else, and they’d rest." –Donald Trump, demonstrating his knowledge of foreign policy at a town hall meeting in Virginia Beach, VA (Sept. 6, 2016)

Celtic versus Andover post match strategery report.

Andover turned up early with a full squad and coordinated red warm up gear. They started to perform calisthenics that culminated in a human pyramid but it did not matter because the Celtic were the better team on the day in all departments except perhaps the sartorial department. Captain Flicky will button that up (spot the pun) next week and plans to issue bow ties. Celtic looked good from the first whistle and dominated the match with Barcelona-ish possession. Ian the "long haddock" Arnold bagged a scorcher in the first half .. he turns, he shoots .... goal! Crowd goes wild. We added a number of solid opportunities that went unconverted. At half time Captain Flicky instructed us to drink, stay loose and breathe in and out .... in and OUT ... I questioned the need to elaborate on this point and drew a scornful look that will no doubt mean that I will be sitting on the naughty step for the next match. My advice is to never question the master ... NEVAH! 

In the second half I got busy and raced to the end line after dodging the offside trap ... cut one back for Caino who dispatched it calmly into the back of the old onion bag for our insurance goal ... Caino is quickly becoming a goal scoring machine although he really is a natural left back ... an old joke that never gets old with me. We restricted Andover to very few decent chances the closest of which was scrambled off the line mid way through the second half. Andy, Rob and Brian really do keep it very tight at the back and never really look troubled. Sam pulled a muscle in his willy in the second half and Frank "le chat" stepped up, slotted in between the pipes and ably maintained the clean sheet. The ref ended the game early as a result of Andover getting all frustrated, throwing their toys out of the crib and brandishing handbags in our general direction. I believe that Rob did most of the taunting and has agreed to get treatment ... he does admit to being a bed wetter until his mid teens. I've gone off message here somehow ... where was I? Oh right ... the match.

The elated Celtic team retired to bask in the autumn sunlight where they split three sandwiches and four beers twenty ways. Captain Flicky will be filing an official complaint on this matter which can really only be remedied by an over abundance of victuals and libations at the next opportunity ... waitress service would be a nice touch also. I have carefully avoided mentioning the offenders but the Kremlin did hack our secret server and threw BRIAN SWEENEY and TONY ABRAS under the bus ... those bloody Russians just can't be trusted ... right Vladimir/Paschal?     

Elsewhere Stoneham and Nashua won. Next week we play Nashua who will be going down "like a sweet muffin" and setting us up for a winner take all-ish encounter with Stoneham the week after. I maintain my prediction that if we continue to score more goals than our opponents we will win games .... Doug Vee confirmed this and Yiannis Moorhen is drafting the paperwork that confirms the argument.

Earnest Scratchings.

PS ... I found this one in the archives ... quite a silly recap of a big win over Stoneham three years ago.

On Sep 15, 2013, at 6:37 PM, "Grant Scott" <Grant.Scott@universalwilde.com> wrote:

What a match? What a frickin’ match?

Today the Seadogs spanked Stoneham 6-4 and took top spot in the league. Mighty Stoneham coughed up 6 goals today and every one of them was a bit special. Mike Hill smashed in a volley for number one that had the crowd crapping in their sheets (aka clapping in their seats). Yiannis Moorhen rose like a pregnant salmon to nut in the second with his melon … not bad for an ice cream freezer who hasn’t touched a ball in a month. Mike got the third with a quick turn and grass cutter (could be factually incorrect because I actually did not see this one). John-Jao-Yowza went around the keeper and passed the ball into the back of the old onion bag for number four (pulling both groins and three hamstrings in the process), was carried off the pitch but rallied and will be back to torment the next opponent. This Limey drilled in the 5^th off a perfect cut back from Derek who was up and down the flank like a tarts knickers. This same limey (at risk of appearing immodest) then latched onto a roller from a crazy distance and belted in a knuckler for number six.

Captain Flicky had orchestrated a masterful game plan that was based on the D-Day landings which makes you wonder what would happen if Captain Flicky ran NASA ….. we’d probably have indoor footy on Pluto by now! Stoneham pressed us hard but the full backs led by wing commander Arnold were solid. The midfielders ran themselves into the ground and tackled like tigers. When it became apparent that we had the game in the bag we even started to possess the ball and make them scurry around for a touch .. yes, I believe that we were toying with them … yes … toying.

At one point I believe that I heard Alain bark at a Stoneham fullback who had just made a dodgy tackle, the following:

“If you continues with these attitudes I will be forced to ‘av speaks with yer superiors”.

The game was won, the points were in the bag and the Seadogs regrouped for steak tips and babychams. Lucie the wonderdog made out like a bandit and will no doubt be crapping up a storm over the next couple of days because those steak tips do a number on her innerds. The beer tasted slightly better than usual and Captain Flicky is talking about going for a clean sweep of the league …. He didn’t get to where he is today by not going for glory!

Week one was a good start and we feasted on the carcass of Crapppera FC with a solid 4-2 tonking. We have made an excellent start to the season with the beating of the traditional top two teams. All we have to do now is believe in ourselves and I think we’ll bring home the bacon and put the cat amongst the pigeons.

If we keep winning like this we’ll go unbeaten!

Hugh Jorgan. 

Celtic versus Nashua Internationals "bigly" match report: week 8

It was cool and blustery and we were missing a few key players but this was not a problem because the squad is strong and deep and wide and Trump is a big fat idiot and his mouth looks like a small bug hole. What??? 

We scored two in the first half and three in the second from various and sundry players and we kept another clean sheet. I have checked my numbers and this means that we won 4-0 ... sorry 5-0, no that's not right ... 6-0 .. no definitely 5-0 ish. Goal number one came from a Boomer slotted pass through to me ... I took a touch (and by the way ... Trump is an idiot) and hammered it across the old onion bag with the keeper flailing and flapping around. Next up was a magnificent scampering solo effort from Boomer who nicked the ball away from the waiting arms of the keeper and side footed into the net with the outside of his boot and then adroitly avoided wish-boning his wedding tackle with the left goal post ... I thought that he was donating a testicle with the goal but it lives on thankfully. A two goal lead at the half and it felt like everything was nicely under control. We listened attentively to some encouraging words from Captain Flicky at half time and right now absolutely none of it comes to mind ... something about staying warm (which I think he stole from Mourinho) ... and then we went straight back to work. Ian belted in number three in a very "belterish" manner ... power, control, twinkle in the eye and keeper "flailing". Next up was from a left footed cross by Hugh Jorgan .. Brian Sweeney rose like a gazelle and headed it into the net while the hapless keeper could only swat at it ... actually that's not true ... he flailed at it. Tony got the fifth goal off a scramble of goalmouth flailings. Doug Viggliolottafusilli hit the bar I believe and the ball bounced all over the six yard box with various players "flailing" at it before Tony did the deed and unflailed it into the net. Doug played left back for the Celtic today while JB is out injured. Doug did a fine job and deep in the second half started to race up the and down the wing (like a tarts knickers) to launch a few balls into the box ... a bona fide wing back. I did overhear Doug telling JB after the game that it was a really easy position to play ... JB said nothing but was seen letting all the air out of Doug's tires while Doug was sharing one beer with three team mates after the game. 

There was another bit of flailing in the second half ... once again the ball was up for grabs, popped loose and Hugh Jorgan raced onto it and hit it left footed as hard as he could so as to knock the seagull off the lamp post in the parking lot. Now just to clear things up ... this was not a howler of a close range miss as some have contended but rather an effort to preserve the important public lamp post from the corrosive effects of gull guano. 

There were two other important points to mention ... someone (I'm not going to name the name because I can't remember who it was but when I do remember I will spill the beans) attempted a back flick. This is just not allowed ... please leave this to Captain Flicky unless you have the necessary paperwork filed before the game. Point number two ... post game beer and food. The food quantity was acceptable but once again we had a serious beer shortage and this has to be dealt with. The correct number of beers for proper post game celebrating is four hundred and twenty seven .... 427! Not two hundred and forty seven (247) or seventy two point four (72.4) !!!! I have typed four exclamation marks chaps ... FOUR !!!!! Please also note that I typed five actual exclamation points after the word FOUR. This is for emphasis and not because I tend to write silly shit with no rhyme or reason.

Bizarre result ... Stoneham lost to Crapoli which means we are a point clear at the top. Next up ... Stoneham ... and you know that they are going down ... we are going to squeeze all the custard out of that powdered pastry and then blow the sugar all over their flowery table cloth. I will leave it there for fear of inciting violence. 

Harry D. Scribbler.

Celtic versus Stoneham ... the battle for supremacy.

My mum will not be happy when she learns about my banged up toe (see exhibit A)  ... she was proud of my feet which she claims would serve me well because she always bought me good shoes when I was a nipper back in the old country. Smoking Joe stomped on my toe so hard on Sunday that I thought he broke the bugger. After the stomping I lost the plot ... the genie was loose and I was subbed out by Captain Flicky and told to get the mad genie back in the bottle. 

Boomer got even worse treatment (see exhibit B) ... a nasty gouging that will need to be repaid ... reprisals gentlemen! If anyone else has nasty pictures of their appendages please send them along ... not Captain Flicky of course ... we've seen those pictures already and I still get night terrors. 

Celtic played well and we should have got something out of the game. The penalty was never a penalty, their goal was soft, our goal was magic and we hit the woodwork and there were other terrible injustices done to us that Trump is undoubtedly behind.

To infinity and beyond!

Mr L.Bastard.

Exhibit A.

Exhibit B.

Smiling Celtic ... just give us the trophy now!

Celtic versus Peabody Gold ... the final match of the regular season and no "long haddock".

I say you chaps ... first off I have to take care of some admin ... Jan Lebel is insisting on a photo credit for the team picture ... she needs this because she is using the image for an erectile dysfunction ad. Next ... the post game luncheon ... whoa ... chicken parm, sausage, meatballs, eggplant, bread, fixings ... all cooked from scratch by John Moorhen's wife Kate. I am nominating this lunch for the prestigious "best of the season" award which comes with no prize whatever. Apparently Yiannis stirred something during the preparation but otherwise did nothing.  

Moving along to the match ... the first half was somewhat uneventful apart from their goal which I did not see and cannot comment on. This is quite common in the Globe sports section as this extract illustrates ... "Brady apparently threw two touchdown passes to win the game but I was making a tinkle for the first and was in the beer line for the second" ... see, not unusual at all in mainstream sports reporting. Anyway, where was I ... oh yes, the game ... we certainly did not play in the same spirit as the last match and it showed ... a somewhat muted, lackluster performance that probably reflected the reality that the match did not really matter to us and we probably all had a bit of long haddock hangover. I think that Captain Flicky's total amnesia of their goal somewhat underscores my point. Next week I know that things will be quite different and Captain Flicky will get an early night so that his managerial skills are keenly honed. By the way ... the Captain broke his single game flick record yesterday with eighty seven bonafide flicks with some of them even going to our chaps. Back to the action ... our goal ... Paschal/Vladimir (porn star/drug mule/meth cook) did some serious scrambling around the end line, dug the ball out from the clutches of the defender and poked it to Mike Gilfeather who dispatched a "laser guided, magisterial strike like a werewolf on a plate of liver" (description courtesy of Mike Gilfeather who is writing the copy for the erectile dysfunction ad that Jan is creating). After leveling the score we stepped up a bit and pushed for a winner ... were all over them like a cheap suit for the last ten minutes but they held firm and we had to settle for a draw.

Next up ... the playoffs. I am suggestion that we go to bed early on Saturday ... for we rise at daybreak ...some of us may lose our lives but remember ... death is but a moment ... cowardice is a lifetime of affliction. 

Jorgan, Hugh.

Celtic versus Medfield ... play off semi final.

I had better wrap this up before I start blubbing but it's hard to not be emotional now that our run is over after losing 2-1 to the southern bastards. Medfield were OK but I want to focus on the negatives because it's healthy and it's definitely not like we are sore losers or anything. Ok here goes .... they weren't as good looking as us and they had bad skin and their kit was nothing to write home about and they had halitosis and a couple had zits and some were overweight and they all had bad attitudes and no sense of humor whatsoever. One of their lot hopped out of a convertible and started shimmying around cones before kick off ... all very wankerish behavior! They smelled bad and they all supported Trump or that nutter out in Utah and they all beat their wives (wives who are all sick of them) and are sarcastic to their pets (ugly ones also sick of them) and other things too ... lots of other things that I just don't have time to mention because I'm on a deadline here.

We were fantastic and scored first ... the ball pinged off the bar and fell to Paschal the rascal who slotted it into the bottom corner with assurance and aplomb and with a deft touch and without so much as a "by your leave". I don't remember their equalizer but it was rubbish. Late on Andy barely brushed one of their players in the box (immediately apologized in writing) but the ref, who was clearly in their pocket, awarded the softest of soft penalties .. which went in despite Sam's best efforts. Two of their guys were flashing laser pointers in Sam's eyes at the time and they released a whole family of chipmunks behind our goal ... very distracting and highly irregular.

We had injuries upon injuries and even our uninjured players had food poisoning from the pre-match snacks that Medfield insisted we eat. It was a smash and grab case if ever I saw one. We were far better than them and Captain Flicky will be filing an official grievance with the league who will probably just do the usual thing and write us all large checks for the obvious injustice.

I saw that Nashua managed to get relegated and NS Internationals got promoted from D2 .. all good because that trip to Canada was a pain and NS play in North Reading which is handy.

Stay in touch with yourselves over the winter.

Grant.