Physical Abuse With Your Mouth

It was so quiet. So silent in fact that you could hear a gnat fart from ten paces. There is no one else around as I walk to the station in the total darkness that is par for the course for these early morning jaunts this time of year. Luckily the skies are clear. Fast forward over eighteen hours later and the rain is coming down as I walk home from the station. past the restaurants and bars that are kicking out their final patrons, oblivious to the day that I've just been through.

Digger Dagger Digger!

Five minutes from half-time, that's all that was left. Five lousy minutes. With the match poised precariously at nil-nil, it was only five minutes to go before the boys could head down the tunnel on the back of another half decent performance. And yet once again, a couple of questionable decisions later and it's like if Ronnie Corbett & Johnny Rotten had gotten together. "Well it's goodnight from me, and it's fuck off from him".

You On Denton Watch?

Hola Senors y Senoritas, bringing a bit of Spanish to you as I missed the last two games whilst being in Mallorca. But this blogger can safely state Mallorca is now well informed about Sutton United and even had some people say I shall will be looking out for our results. One gentleman, named Mike from Cornwall, said he predicts Sutton will play Wolves in the FA Cup Quarter Final in the year 2027, so I have this note saved into my phone. I doubt I'll be wagers on it however.

Wrexham Lager

We like Wrexham. Ok, it's not nearby, costs a fair bit to get to and we've yet to experience anything but mild disappointment at best when it comes to the football, but it has one thing going for it. The beer's really really cheap. Like stupidly cheap. As in "Fuck me I've not paid that little for a pint since my early 20's!" cheap. Which if you're familiar with our work has both its good and its bad points.

Tied Up In Notts

So, here we go again me old chinchillas.  It really is non-stop, solid gold, easy action in this opening few weeks of the season and we’ve already managed to find ourselves in a full blown injury crisis that makes the Brexit hoo-hah look like a quiet evening in with a Pickwick snide seventies Top of the Pops LP and a Radox bath.

Right in the Brian Glovers

I have a little question. What is the point of the linesman these days? If they're supposed to do only throw-ins and offside, then why can't they even do those simple tasks? I doubt it's just this year, but they've seemed to come to prominence recently with some very suspect decisions. Some of the offside calls have been down right bemusing with the invention of imaginary players who appear to play people on. Some of the geezers we get are starting to make VAR look good.

Osberton Radiator

As I'm now at that age where I'm past caring about haircuts, grooming etc and starting to have to lift up my glasses and hold mobile devices closer to the old boat so I can see what the fuck I'm looking at, I'm also finding myself getting sucked into what can only be described as a Totts-esque world of nostalgia and local history.