MATCH REPORT

 

Sunday 29th January 2012

 Friendly v Garrowhill Over 35's at Ibrox Complex

4-8 (2-6)

Dougie Lyden, Arthur McCue, Calum Colquhoun, Allan MacKenzie, Paul Joyce (c), Ally McNaught, Craig McKenna, Callum Weir (Martin Kelly), David Blair, Andy McNaught and Adam Walker

It was every schoolboys’ dream, particularly if you’re name was Waugh, to play at your favourite football ground and at last the dream was going to be realised.

In the week leading up to arguably our biggest game since Calders, Slide Tackle Stu was unbelievably excited as he marched around his living room whilst listening to the latest cd from the Larkhall and District Community Flute Band, volume 1690.

Stu’s thoughts turned to Sunday’s game and he wondered, “were we really going to be playing at Ibrox ? Would I get the chance to meet Sooper Alistair, the best Rangers Manager there’s been since Sir Walterinho, and his pal Durranty and that baldy guy who used to play for Sellick ? Would I really be gracing the same turf that Teddy Bears Legends Jim Denny, Billy Urquhart, Egil Ostenstad, Filip Sebo, who reminds me of Andy Boy, Daniel Prodan, Scott Nisbet and Juan Manual Ortiz all played on ? Will I get the chance to throw something at the effigy of the man with the same complexion as Dougay, Martin Bain, who has tried to ruin my superbly wonderful Club ?”

 

 Stu’s excitement was only seconded by his Twin, Jaaack, who joined in the marching around the living room as the music blared away, including some songs which have been banned by the joyless Scottish Government.

The music was so loud that the Waugh Twins neighbours, Gerard and Geraldine O’Limerick had no choice but to complain to the police.

Within minutes there was van full of boys in (Royal) blue at the Waugh Twins house but, much to the O’Limerick’s consternation, the police joined in the marching and the music got louder and louder.

Meanwhile over at Fortress Holyrood the plans for the big game had been thrown into turmoil.

“Boss, I’ve just heard Seanelli can’t make Sunday’s game”, said Club Kit Man Zoltan Pepper as he burst into Mister C’s Manager’s Office, so quickly that the Boss didn’t have time to hide the bottle of Crème De Menthe that he was swigging out of, for medicinal purposes.

“Well, these things happen, I’m sure we’ll cope”, replied Mister C who was clearly up for the big game.

“But, Boss, it gets worse, our dusky keeper Dougay is “fit” and available so he’s in the squad.”

“That’s the best news I’ve heard in weeks”, said Mister C, “it’s always good to have competition for places and we now have two top class keepers in the squad.”

Zoltan rushed down the corridor to speak to Club Doctor Kuntz and find out whether the “good” doctor had upped the Boss’s medication [unfortunately for patient confidentiality reasons we have to move on from this story but needless to say that Mister C’s dose of Kalms had indeed been upped to five bottles a day].

The day of the game duly arrived and, as the squad gathered at Fortress Holyrood ready to board the Club Team Bus, there were a couple of people missing.

As ever it was left to Zoltan to break the news, “Boss, Uncle Crossers has called off as he has a matinee performance of his latest hilarious play, “The Mail Shot”.

“For those that don’t know it’s the uproariously funny story of a day in the life of a mail room postman. I don’t want to give the story away but one of the laugh out loud jokes that Uncle Crossers tells is, “a man walks into a butchers and asks him for two pieces of meat off the top shelf. The butcher tries to reach them but can’t because, “the steaks are too high !!”, the steaks are too high, ha, ha, ha !”

“Waugh Twin Jaaack has also called off as he has to attend an emergency meeting at the masons as they are appointing a new Grand Master.”

“Phil, does that mean Jaaack is going to be like my favourite hip hop musician Grandmaster Flash ?” said Gary Neville to his gorgeous brother.

“No Gary,” said an exasperated Phil, “Jaaack is going to hopefully become a Grand Master who is the leader of the lodges within his Masonic jurisdiction. He presides over a Grand Lodge, and has certain rights in the constituent lodges that form his jurisdiction.

“Just as the Worshipful Master of a lodge annually appoints lodge officers to assist him, so the Grand Master of each Grand Lodge annually appoints grand lodge officers to assist him in his work. Grand Lodges often elect or appoint Deputy Grand Masters who can act on behalf of the Grand Master when he is unable to do so. In English Freemasonry, where a member of the Royal Family is often the Grand Master, he may also appoint a Pro Grand Master to deputise for him when he is involved in affairs of State. The Pro Grand Master has no function when the Grand Master is present, and is distinct from the Deputy Grand Master.

“There are two distinct traditions in connection with the office of Grand Master. Generally speaking the European practice is for the same Grand Master to be re-elected for several consecutive years, maybe even several decades, whilst in other countries a Grand Master serves a set term of only one to three years, and then retires.

“The first unambiguously recorded Grand Master was Anthony Sayer, elected as the first Grand Master of the Premier Grand Lodge of England in 1717. There are earlier references to Grand Masters (for example, the architect Christopher Wren), but there is no unambiguous proof that the term is used in its current sense in those contexts (the references may refer to operative stonemasonry).

“In several European countries, the position of Grand Master has often been held by members of royal families or the high nobility. In some Protestant northern European countries, the position was held by the King for a long time. In England and Wales, the current Grand Master is Prince Edward, Duke of Kent.

“The same title is used for the leader of Masonic jurisdictions for women, where there is a general preference for the use of historical terms, rather than contrived female versions.”

“So Phil, does he get his own band like Grandmaster Flash ? I loved the Furious Five.”

“You know Phil, that was really interesting and I’m amazed at your breadth of knowledge, well done,” said Mister C as everybody looked at Doctor Kuntz who had a huge smile on his face as at last he had a success story to take to the General Medical Council, and maybe now he’d get his licence back which he lost in 1978 after an unfortunate experiment with “mind drugs” went wrong.

There was another absentee as star centre forward Andy Boy discovered at Fortress Holyrood in unfortunate circumstances. Andy Boy had needed a fix of chocolate for the long journey to Ibrox and looked around for Club Treasurer Craig Whyte so he could borrow £50 for the sweetie machine (no relation) but the man with the money was nowhere to be seen. A frantic search of Fortress Holyrood was called off when Doctor Kuntz announced that Craig Whyte had called in sick as he didn’t feel up to going to the Govan area.

Luckily the first batch of Club Easter Eggs had arrived at the Club Shop so Andy Boy took twenty of them to stop him getting hungry on the bus ride.

Club Chauffeur Barry Bannan doubled up as Club Coach Driver and got us to Ibrox in under ten minutes which meant that Andy Boy had to keep one of his Club Easter Eggs for the pre-match warm up.

The Coach stopped at Ibrox and Slide Tackle Stu, resplendent in his Union Jack suit, sprinted away with his autograph book and camera in hand. The last time he’d had his autograph book with him he hadn’t been as lucky as he approached Paul Le Guen, not The Best Manager of All Time, and he had replied “non”. Luckily soon after that Monsieur Le Guen was dismissed by Captain Barry much to Stu’s great amusement.

“Boss, we don’t seem to have a very big squad today,” said Zoltan Pepper to Mister C.

“It’s okay Zoltan, me old mucker, we’ve splashed the cash and made a new signing before the Transfer Window closes,” replied Mister C still in a happy mood.

As the squad filed into the plush dressing room our new signing was already there.

“Whit, it’s The Great Marzinho what’s he doing back in the squad ?” asked Weewhatshisname, who never shuts up these days.

“THAT’S NO MARZINHO. HE’S GOT THE SAME HAIRSTYLE AND FAT BELLY, I’LL GIE YOU THAT, BUT HE’S NO TALL ENOUGH TO BE THAT BIG NUMPTY,” a thoughtful Arthur replied.

“Well, who is it ?” asked Craigyboy.

“Ladies and gentleman, I’d like to introduce our new signing Callum Weir who we have managed to entice all the way from West Coast giants Appin and he will be with us for as long as he is as at college in Glasgow,” announced Safehands who had found the prepared statement in Mister C’s pocket whilst rummaging for some Kalms.

Both Andy Boy and LHD looked at each other, then looked at the size of Callum and realised that they had competition in the forward line. Luckily LHD had smuggled some Club Easter Eggs into his bag and The Teletubbies got changed quickly and went out for their “warm up”.

The Teletubbies weren’t out for long as they came back in to say that the Garrowhill team had found out that Dougay was going to be in goals and had changed their warm up routine from high shots and lobs to just making sure they got the ball on target.

“Oi specky, where the (expletive deleted) is Slide Tackle (expletive deleted) Stu ?” politely asked Mister Joyce.

“Oh, he’s still marching round Ibrox Stadium, did somebody forget to tell him we were playing at the Ibrox Complex ? Oh well, these things happen,” explained Mister C.

“(expletive deleted) sake, this is a (expletive deleted) joke and I can’t believe I have to put up with this (expletive deleted) nonsense.”

“Well, here is today’s team. Dougay, who is a very underrated net minder, is in goals; Arthur and Phil, superb players both of them, are our full backs with Wee Al and Mister Joyce, a great combination which will repel all attacks, in central defence; Gary and Weewhatshisname are our speedy and very exciting wingers with Craigyboy and young Callum in the midfield, a wonderful pair of players who are the best in the country in my opinion; The Teletubbies who are a fearsome front two. On the bench we have Safehands who is, eh, hmm, “Doctor Kuntz, more medication.”

The teams ran out to the sound of The Sash, which was being sung by Slide Tackle Stu as he marched past the perimeter fence.

Game on and what a start by our Hooped Heroes.

Mister Joyce played his way out of defence, passed to Young Callum who found Gary and his cross cum shot missed the back post by inches.

“Zoltan, old chap, I can see this being our day.”

Within minutes Garrowhill had a shot cleared off the line by Mister Joyce then a shot crashed off the post whilst Dougay checked his fixed odds in the Sunday Mail (he lost).

Eight minutes on the clock and we were one down as a shot from outside the box deceived Dougay who was on the phone to a barman pal in Tenerife who he had been meaning to catch up with for a while.

“Zoltan, old bean, it’s just a minor blip.”

Five minutes later we were level with a superb goal. Young Callum found Craigyboy in the middle of the park and the pink shoed midfielder ran on before unleashing a wonder strike with his left foot into the top corner from thirty five yards.

Unfortunately there was a lot of booing from outside the park as Slide Tackle Stu objected to the use of left footers at his beloved Ibrox.

Ten minutes later and we should have been ahead.

Weewhatshisname played a great ball to LHD and he chipped the ball over the outrushing keeper and left Gary with an open goal. Unfortunately, just as Phil sprinted forward to give his brother a congratulatory hug, Gary shot over when even Andy Boy might have scored, maybe.

“Zoltan, old mucker, I’m just away to the little boys room, could you mind the store for me ?”

Twelve minutes later Mister C returned from the luxurious dressing rooms and asked Zoltan how the game was going.

“Well Boss, we’ve had a wee bit of a collapse and are now five one down as Dougay was away at the ice cream van for fags (cigarettes).”

“Oh well, worse things happen at sea.”

Unfortunately Phil overhead Mister C’s comment and started going on and on about the type of things that can happen at sea but luckily we have neither the time, space or interest to report them here. This is a serious football match report after all.

Anyway, if we were going to get back into the game we needed a goal before half time (at least that’s what all the great pundits like Lawro and Jim Beglin (who ?) always say) and thankfully we got one.

Craigyboy played in Andy Boy who lumbered onto the ball and hit a shot off the keeper which rebounded to Young Callum and he put the ball into the empty net for a goal on his debut.

Within twenty seconds we had lost another goal as one of the “Over 35’s” ran through our non-existent defence to shoot past Dougay who was still trying to get his match lit.

Half time and Mister Joyce took it upon himself to give a motivational speech.

“This is the biggest load of (expletive deleted) I’ve ever seen and that (expletive deleted) Dougay is the worst (expletive deleted) keeper I’ve ever seen. As for the rest of you (expletive deleted) you don’t deserve to wear the (expletive deleted) jersey, ya bunch of (expletive deleted).”

“Thanks Mister Joyce, you have a fine way with words so let’s go out and play a wee bit better than we did in the first half, away the Hoops”, said Mister C as he regained control.

At the sound of the last word there again came booing from outside the ground from Slide Tackle Stu who was still marching away to his heart’s content.

Buoyed by the skipper’s words Dougay sprang into action and made a couple of excellent saves just after the break. Well, I say saved, I really mean two shots hit him as he had his back turned as he we was on his phone to his best pal Pepe fae Partick.

Gradually we improved as the opposition tired and on the hour mark we pulled a goal back. Craigyboy had a shot tipped over and, after the resulting corner was cleared, Gary sent over a cross which the keeper dropped into the net. Mister C immediately drafted a contract for the Garrowhill net minder and hopefully he’ll be available for our next game.

Only three goals in it and plenty of time to get back into the game but unfortunately the home side were awarded a free kick outside the box and inevitably they scored direct from it.

“But, ref I wisny ready”, shouted Dougay, who had just come back from the pavilion with a tea, milk no sugar as he’s sweet enough, but his complaint fell on deaf ears as Referee Eric Sykes signalled a goal.

“Okay, Zoltan, go to the fourth official, I’m going to make a substitution that will win us the game”.

“But, Boss, we’ve only got Safehands to come on, are you sure ?”

“Of course, Young Callum can come off and the mercurial Safehands can go and play in midfield, his natural position”.

On came Safehands and he immediately made an impression. An impression of a drunken man walking on ice as he staggered with the ball at the halfway line and looked like falling at least ten times before finally managing to stay on his feet to generous applause.

As “the cry was no surrender” could be heard in the distance we pulled another goal back as LHD got put through on goal and he made no mistake to bring the deficit back to three.

It wasn’t the end of the scoring though as the home side took advantage of a loss of concentration by Dougay who had logged onto Facebook (other social media sites are available) to check his updates.

Gary twice came close with shots which the keeper saved but there was no way back for us in a game where we played well at times but only when we were attacking.

There was an air of despondency in the plush dressing room afterwards as we took time to reflect on the result and, although it’s a team game, Dougay held his hands up to the loss but unfortunately Safehands dropped them.

The troops filed onto the Club Coach and Zoltan asked whether we should wait for Slide Tackle Stu.

“There’s no (expletive deleted) way we’re waiting on that (expletive deleted) (expletive deleted). He’s a useless (expletive deleted) anyway and a (expletive deleted) (expletive deleted)”, shouted Mister C who had been given an antidote by Doctor Kuntz but he may well have overdid it ever so slightly.

 

 

 

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