| The Warky League One Report: Burton Albion (H) 20:23 - Feb 16 with 1738 views | Warkystache |
"I din't get anyfing from the missus yesterdy" said Tel, flicking a stray dry roasted peanut from our table into the void of the pub bar, where it hit something hard and rolled, like a fouled Counago, somewhere unseen. "I took the missus shoppin' an'all, ter Bury St Edmun's, bought 'er flars an' a bottle of 'er Anay Anay stuff, yer knar, perfume. Nuffing, not even last night in bed". Welcome back.
So, his Valentine's Day a washout and the lack of any driving work for the intermittent period (his firm have temporarily closed down operations due to the inclement weather so he had Friday, the weekend and he's also got Monday and Tuesday off) keeping him in mournful predictions of its demise and his redundancy, he was a cheery soul last night. There I was, buoyed by a (frankly) unexpected win over Burton and there he was, a wet blanket.
We met after a week of heavy rain, gales and aquaplaning cars surfing down the A14 as I attempted Birmingham. I gave up on my Smiths CD and started playing The Beach Boys. Surfin' USA suited my mood more than double decker buses or ten ton trucks crashing into me. To die by the side of the road near Huntingdon wasn't my idea of pleasure or privilege.
Given the weather warnings on Friday, I did the POETS day at work and got home at 6.30pm, trailing clouds of glory and a few extra splashes of mud on my bumper. Tel had texted me earlier to say he and the wife were in Bury, and did I fancy meeting for lunch? Geography's not his strongest point.
I stopped at one of those petrol stations with an M&S attached and bought a load of expensive bits I could eat quick. Hunkered in my dressing gown with a nice bottle of Shiraz and watching old episodes of The Professionals, it was nearly the perfect Friday night in. True, it could have done with a bit of female company, perhaps a comfy cuddle on the settee. But then I remembered; relationships always seem better when you're single, yet when you're in one, you rarely have a nice cuddle on the settee in front of 'The Professionals' because she doesn't like it, and wants to watch Eastenders or something that sets your teeth on edge and rots, literally rots, your eyeballs in your head. In fact, I can remember being in one and wishing I was single again, just for one night, so I could do exactly what I did that evening. Grass isn't always greener.
I said this to Tel on Saturday night. He's been in touch with Paula. "She aint pregnant yet" he said when I asked how she was. I must have looked confused, because he validated this with "well, they bin marrid nine munfs so yer'd've fought, by now....". Clearly not. Tel then asked me if I'd ever "fancied kids". I spluttered into my pint and shot him an injured look, the accusation of noncing hanging heavily in the air. He caught my look and laughed and said "Nah, yer knar what I meant? Did yer ever want kids yourself?" I said yes, once, when my wife and I were first married, but things just didn't work out. "Same 'ere" said Tel, lowering his voice so only half the pub could hear him. "Me'n'the missus, we wanted kids. Tried our 'earts out for 'em, we did. At it day and night for the first year. Wore out our matt'ress. My john thomas looked like ET's finger for munfs".
"But then we reelised it weren't gonna 'appen. She 'ad all the tests, stuff put up her like Paul Daniel's sleeve an' that an' I remember finkin' I dunno if I really want kids after all. Ah picktured it in me mind, like, cummin' 'ome, kid cryin', terry nappies 'angin' ter dry in the barfroom. Well, that weren't me. So it woz a sorta blessin'.
It was probably just as well we won 4-1. I'm not sure my mental health could've taken Tel in this mood had we lost again, or worse, been all over them and drawn. Saturday dawned bright and fresh despite the warnings and I found I didn't need my wellies to feed the birds after all. Breakfast was a fruit salad with yoghurt. I gave up on porridge, despite trying again. No wonder the jocks love it. The humourless pasty-faced independence-wailing troglodytes.
The journey from Manningtree was easy and quiet at eleven am. It reminded me of the start of that film 24 Days Later. Clearly town fans would be cutting it fine from this part of Essex. Or perhaps, like this board in the last week, they'd simply had enough?
Drunk and bloated from the beer, barely mopped up by the chicken and chips, I staggered to the ground at 2.55pm and stood inhaling the last fag for 120 odd minutes as the rain splattered and the Sir Bobby started another quick hymn. I made it in just as Burton scored, their player seemingly wandering through our defence like a small lost kid in a women's underwear section. The faces, tense with anger around me, belied the feeling that a game of footy on such an afternoon had been the perfect tonic for frayed nerves. The ref looked like Steve Strange. Burton's yellow kit made my head ache. Their fans could've comfortably fitted in my garden shed. Bastards.
As usual we huffed and puffed. And then I looked up, ready to berate someone for shooting wide at the Sir Alf end when the net bulged and all around me erupted. We even got a second before half-time. Judge as well. Someone's unlikely prayers that morning were well and truly being answered.
I left the ground on 88 minutes, dazed and confused, the walk to the station filled with similarly disbelieving supporters. Had we just been subject to mass LSD dosing or had it really happened? Where was Norwood? We should have won 9-1, such was the dominance and control. Why didn't we play Burton earlier? Why couldn't every team in this league be that bad?
Home via the pub, lips smacking in anticipation of seeing the scum trashed like our women were today. Except they weren't. Klopp and that creepy, greasy looking f*cker that manages the scum must've been bosom buddies in whichever German club they worked at. Sick of hearing tales of 'plucky little Norwich and their brilliant passing game, they're too good to go down really' and all that b*llocks, I went on the fruity and waited for Tel to arrive. Which he did at 7pm, mobile in hand as he's just downloaded 'Just Eat' and our local Indian belongs to it.
In a fit of pique, the pub have stopped serving hot food on a Saturday night. Jamie the landlord said something about not justifying the cost of keeping his kitchen staff on, only for them to get a few meals and a load of orders for chips. Tel, who was just about to order chips when he said it, hastily changed them for a bag of dry roasted. "But" added Jamie, "if yer can get Just Eat on yer phone, yew can order from the curry house darn the road an' eat it in 'ere. I'll even chuck in plates and cutlery an' stuff". So we did that instead. Tel suspiciously because he isn't all that tech yet. He still thinks it's wired to the Russians.
So we had curry and decent beer and a laugh, and we got drunk, and then we went home, in a shared cab, Tel telling me he never liked my ex-wife anyway. We were still on about regrets when the cab pulled up at his place. He got out and waved a fond farewell. The cab driver muttered something as we drove off and I asked him to repeat it. "Look lark yer mate's 'avin a slash in them 'edges" he said. I looked round, but the night was dark and all I saw were the street lights.
He's not coming to Oxford either. I did ask. But now he's the jonah. "Mind you" he said graciously, "I'll come ter Wemberley to watch 'em if they make it that far". |  |
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| The Warky League One Report: Burton Albion (H) on 22:03 - Feb 16 with 1579 views | MillsyVOR |
"She doesn't like it, and wants to watch Eastenders or something that sets your teeth on edge and rots, literally rots, your eyeballs in your head"...
Great work, Warky! ðŸ‘😃 |  | | |
| The Warky League One Report: Burton Albion (H) on 22:18 - Feb 16 with 1543 views | vapour_trail |
This might be your finest work yet warkers.
Absolute classic. |  |
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| The Warky League One Report: Burton Albion (H) on 23:15 - Feb 16 with 1479 views | MaySixth |
and to think of the meltdown on here when I used the word 'nonce'
excellent work |  |
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| The Warky League One Report: Burton Albion (H) on 14:08 - Feb 17 with 1132 views | Bent_double |
"...At it day and night for the first year. Wore out our matt'ress. My john thomas looked like ET's finger for munfs".
Superb!   |  |
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| The Warky League One Report: Burton Albion (H) on 18:57 - Feb 17 with 1005 views | Westover |
Superb ðŸ‘🎉🎉🎉 |  | | |
| The Warky League One Report: Burton Albion (H) on 18:59 - Feb 17 with 995 views | J2BLUE |
'I spluttered into my pint and shot him an injured look, the accusation of noncing hanging heavily in the air.'
I had to stop reading there when I tried reading it for the first time. I was cracking up. I was round my mum's and we were watching something serious on tv and I was laughing like an idiot.
Absolutely brilliant. |  |
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| The Warky League One Report: Burton Albion (H) on 19:01 - Feb 17 with 989 views | brogansnose |
Vintage Warky.
In all honesty, I struggle to find anything that makes me laugh like the reports anywhere. |  | | |
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