Tuesday 23 March 2010

The big finale


Fixtures Wed 24 March:
Soldierdad v Black Sox 7pm
Borrusia Teeth v NVA 7pm
BarceHullona v Waterside 7pm
AJ's v Deportivo 7:30pm
Weighton v Trogs 7:30pm
Angel v ONE10 7:30pm

Right guys. Massive game this week. Take the 3 points from this one and, assuming Angel lose to ONE10, our goal difference will be almost identical to Angel's with only a -3 difference in points. This leaves us with two games, 1 more than Angel. However, as one is a game in hand, we may have to play Angel and Trogs on the final day. If we play Angel first and beat them it'll all go down to how many goals we concede against the Trogs; Us knackered from the previous game against the leagues top scorers. What a (possible) finale!

As this is the most important game of your careers thus far I thought a speech was required. I must admit that a certain Mr Shakespeare may have helped with some of the words:


Once more unto the pitch, dear friends, once more;
and close up the wall up to angel and trogs.
On pitch there's nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness and humility:

But when the blast of the whistle blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of Brazil;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage;

Then lend to us a terrific pass;
Let fly through the portage of their feet
Like from a cannon; let the enemy o'erwhelm from it
As fearfully as doth a big girl
confuse and jitter their confounded defence,
Scare'd with the wild and wasteful tackle.

Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide,
Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit
To his full height. On, on, you noblest Notvery.
Chase the pass with proud feet from the fathers of football!

Feet that, unlike so many Others,
Have in these parts every wednesday fought
Never sheathed their goals through lack of endeavour:
Dishonour not your mothers; now attest
That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you.


Be copy now to men of Shangi,
And teach them how to score. And you, good yeoman,
Whose limbs were made for Notvery, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not;

For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you run like greyhounds in the wings,
Straining upon the start. The goal is awaiting:
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry God for the Gaffer, Notvery, and The Pub!

So, lets go out their tomorrow and destroy them!

Web Marketplace Solutions Football Club (WMpS FC)

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