Football.Middlethorpe Style

Now don't get me wrong....I have absolutely nothing against
football.

If fans want to spend the equivalent of a fiver an hour to subsidise
the over inflated sums paid to their heroes that's their concern.

If they want to sit in freezing cold stands or stand on freezing cold
touchlines rendering alternative lyric versions of "Ee Aye Ally Oh..."
whilst a group of demigods with over inflated egos kick a bag of wind
about the place....I couldn't personally give a damn....

My beef is the way football is televised.

Now when I was a kid the greatest time on earth was at a quarter to
three on cup final day when it was over to Wembley, a quick
introduction by Ken Wolstenholm...arguably the best football
commentator ever....a couple of choruses of "Abide with me"...the
National Anthem....then on with the business in hand...

In those days we didn't need an anchor man, two commentators and a
whole gang of ex player/ pundits pontificating profusely or a network
of action reply cameras including one down the goalkeepers jockey
shorts.....

We didn't need intimate details of what the teams had for breakfast or
have twenty odd players one at a time telling you the "atmosphere is
tremendous" in response to a trite commentator's even more trite
question.....

And the truth of the matter is.....We still don't......

AN EVEN FUNNIER OLD GAME!

"L

adies and Gentlemen this is Brian Belcher taking a night off from
delivering the cow to talk a load of bull instead as we welcome you to
Shire Counties T.V. and to this major event for the town of
Middlethorpe. Tonight we are proud to present for the first time
International Football live, (well as near live as possible) from the
Middlethorpe Stadium. Tonight Toddlesworth Unathletic inspired by their
victorious bye in the last round when their number was drawn out of the
bag and dropped on the floor, face a tough challenge from a mixed
European team. Will Toddlesworth Athletic make the next round? Will
Toddlesworth and Middlethorpe finally get put on the map? The next hour
and a half will tell. With me here in the lounge bar of the Wise Owl
Tavern which has been hastily refurbished as an impromptu studio is our
chief pundit for the evening, former professional penalty spot painter,
and now mine host of this fine hostelry, Fred Sumner who'll give us his
thoughts on tonight's game...Fred..."

"Well..."

"Thanks Fred.."

"Let's go over now and to our commentary team of Jock Mactavish and
your match commentator, Horace Snoad Junior...Horace..".

"Good evening and welcome to the magnificently mediocre all standing
stadium of Middlethorpe in the Mire for this fourth round, first leg
match in the European Amateur No Hopers Cup Losers Cup.

The opposition are a mixed lot drawn from the umpteen emerging Balkan
republics and so whilst the local Elderly Residents Cello and French
Horn Ensemble wrestle with their ninth seperate National Anthem we have
a little time to set the scene.

Alongside me tonight, perched precariously on this forty five gallon
oil drum, I am pleased to welcome Jock (the kilt) Mactavish whom fans
of Scottish football may not remember from his playing days in the
Celtic Obscurity League (Division four) but who just happens to be one
of the few Scottish football pundits able and occasionally sober enough
to hang almost four words together in a coherent sentence... and for
the ridiculously small fee which this particular TV crew are
offering....Welcome Jock."

"Machaggis..hic!"

"Well I did say occasionally four words...er..er..Well, in the meantime
we have to give great credit to the ground staff for the fact that
tonight's fixture is being played at all. This was originally intended
as an away fixture but eight foot snow drifts and brass monkey
temperatures put paid to that idea. Locals will know that this weed
infested marshland is normally the home of the Western Shire Counties
Ferret Racing Club and to turn a racetrack 300 yards long by only 25
feet wide into an international football pitch given only three and a
half hours notice is little short of a miracle...The Highways
Department of Toddlesworth District Council have worked tirelessly to
mark out the pitch. Double yellow lines down each side have ensured
that neither manager can park his substitutes and there will be "No
Waiting" for the
linesmen. Conscious of the somewhat dubious floodlighting cats eyes now
surround the centre circle. There was some suggestion that if they'd
had an extra half hour we might even have got goals nets at both ends.
However, despite the stirling efforts of Mrs Claythorpe and the other
members of the Middlethorpe needlework circle it's very difficult to
produce two nets from recycled knotty straw bale string with only a
broom handle and a rake as knitting needles.

No Jock you cant have a little short...this is an alcohol free
zone."

"Mac Balls ta you Jimmy!"

"Yes Jock, long ones, short ones, good ones, through ones and square
ones.... but only when the match starts.....and the name's
Horace.
I see now that the Cello ensemble have just finished their somewhat off
key rendition of our national anthem and I can only say that if Her
Majesty is watching with the sound turned up and has a sensitive ear
for music then..God Save the Queen!

While the team changes are being announced to the crowd which will
closely be followed by the crowd changes being announced to the teams,
we have just time to tell you that a record crowd of nearly four people
have paid the amazing sum of almost a fiver for the dubious pleasure of
being here tonight. The remaining one hundred and fifty seven were
press ganged from the local bingo hall, and two, obviously very keen
supporters tried to pole vault the spiked railings and are now being
cared for by the local volunteer ambulance brigade.

Now for a check on the two teams.. Toddlesworth, playing in their
customary all white strip, with a big cowardly yellow streak down their
backs will probably field a somewhat different formation tonight
..likely to be one, ten, zero, following their somewhat embarrassing
twenty seven to one defeat by the local brownies netball club during
the pre match warm up. Toddlesworth's position is also somewhat
weakened tonight. Their captain and main defender Duncan Stoppit
unfortunately failed a late fitness test on a broken bootlace so
captaining the side tonight will be their new signing, Isle of Wight
international centre backward Ivor Prittstock who returns after a two
match suspension (by the ankles) for scoring two own goals and casting
aspersions on whether a particular linesman's parents were married at
the point of conception. Prittstock's been getting quite a number of
yellow cards this season hasn't he Jock?"

"Aye. noo 'e only needs the King o' spades for a full pack."

Also in the lineup is central midfielder Hacker Harris-Fowler who
regularly does but without the hyphen. He returns from injury but there
is still some doubt over his fitness and whether he'll ever stand up
quite so straight again following his mid-air collision with the coin
that the referee tossed up with. Their long serving Italian goalkeeper
Gotterava Wall is not eligible to play tonight and his place is taken
by his young understudy Julian Crump, fresh from a Y.T.S. sponsored
"How to pick the ball out of the back of the net with dignity"
course....Jock..."

"Loada Blurry (Hic!) Foreigners!"

"But Jock..I'm talking about the English team."

"Sure I nar dat! English!..Lak aye sayeed..loada blurry foreigners!
Nae-rry a kilt, a haggis or a bagpipe a'tween'em."

"Yes, well, while the Director shakes my colleague here by the scruff
of the jockstrap...just a word about tonight's officials. They appear
to be expecting trouble tonight..

Ed Damgouda, the Dutch referee, well turned out in a fetching suit of
chain mail armour, has a choice of four whistles, three note books and
more cards than the average poker deck. The linesman on the far side
appears to have found trouble already. He's walking around with a Union
Jack on a six foot pole and remonstating with an official from the Town
Hall.

Formalities over...and the game's in motion as the Eastern Europeans
kick off attacking the goal to our left....or is it right? It's a job
to see really.

Obiladiacknockervich to Mavenhalyenichervich to Johan
Kommemisilomaminovich to his brother Fred...Intercepted by Prittstock
who sends the ball sky-ing into the crowd, none of whom seem remotely
interested in retrieving it.... Jock..".

"Ah aats Grapplestompojunokopovich to Petrocomeoverearovich to...oh
blurry heck..aye canna prenoonce these blurry names! Why canna they nay
have simple names like McTavish o' McDonald o' som'at!...Don.".

"Horace, actually. Right it's John Olarbinagrapholonicovich forward to
Undertoployenchiovich to Michenoncho .Mickonenshi.,Micko...O sod this
for a lark..number 10 ovitch... cross the centre circle to number 8
ovitch..short pass to number 6 ovitch... but the flag's up on the
nearside. The flag's actually flying at half mast but in any case
number 9 ovitch was offside...Oh Oh. Here's trouble. He's said
something to the linesman. The linesman's consulting with the
referee,..The referee's reaching into his pocket...Is it a red card? No
it's a phrase book. He's trying to get what was said translated...When
we find out we'll let you know. In the meantime there's been an
incident off the ball. Prittstock appears to have kicked
Grapplestompoiunokopovich right up the tenderest parts of his penalty
area...The whistle's gone..The referee's reaching for his pocket. I
think that'll go down as a professional foul....Jock."

"Och 's nay a foul...Ivor went fer t'blurry ball and missed!. .Ok..ok..
so he smacked Grapplestomwadeverisbloodynameis in the gob first..so
what?..I's man's game. These accidents happen. Nar will ye jus look't
'im..He's nay blinkin' hurt...he's just blurry acting. Anyone'd think
he'd be'n steamrollered by a ten ton haggis."

"Ok, whilst the Eastern European trainer is administering the instant
cure for every conceivable injury..i.e. the wet sponge down the front
of the shorts, we'll go to Brian and see if our resident doctor agrees
with you...Brian"

"Thanks Horace...Well, back here in the Wise Owl We'll have to wait for
the Polaroid to develop but we think it will confirm the general
opinion of our medical team that a boot up the...well a blow like that
has probably given him two broken collar bones, a compound fracture of
the bum cheek, a dislocated fibia and probably busted his right shin
pad into three bits. If they're right...and I must say it looked a
pretty vicious tackle to us.. he could be out of the game for some
considerable time ...well.. for all of the next thirty seconds..after
which he'll get his Academy Award for realistic acting..then probably
take the free kick himself... Horace..."

"Jock..".

"Mine's a pint. ...Brian"

"So's mime....Horace"

"Well I have to say that in that brief interlude we've received the
translation of what 9 ovitch said to the referee. We can't really tell
you what he said there might be children watching but we believe anyway
that it's physiologically impossible...Especially in football boots...
I believe Fred has an opinion on that...Fred.".

"Well..."

"Thanks Fred... So it's a free kick to the Eastern Europeans to be
taken by Johan Kommenisilomaminovcich...Oh dear..we have translation
problems again. He was supposed to kick the ball. I don't know whether
Prittstock has ever suffered before from a groin strain but he
certainly has now...The referee's reaching for his cards again....
Jock..."

"Well I reckon' 'e's bluffin' wi' two small pairs. I'll raise
'im."

"It looks like Toddlesworth have a substitute warming up. Actually the
young lady he was warming up must have been warm enough already. She's
had a quick swipe at his sponsorship...and..oh dear ...another groin
strain.

Now at this point I would be telling you who was coming on but as you
can see if you're still watching your screens will have gone blank
because the floodlights have just gone out..There was some doubt about
the lights before the match..A sixty watt bulb in each corner of the
ground is not a lot even if there is a full moon...Impeccable planning
though does mean that contingency plans were made and as we speak the
Eastern European trainer has just run onto the pitch..carrying half a
dozen miners helmets with torches on the front.
Their trainer's an American I believe Jock...?"

"Aye s'right.... Sonofabitchovitch."

"The referee seems quite adamant that the miners helmets infringe FIFA
rules unless the players have one each, so an appeal has just been
broadcast over the P.A. for someone with two bob for the meter...
No..The referee won't have it. The whistle's gone..He's abandoning the
match..What a turn up for the books. ...Jock.".

"Damn bloody good idea Jimmy.".

"Horace, actually...Anyway give us your candid assessment of the
game."

"'S'loada rubbish!"

"Er right, er, well,...back to you..Brian."

"Right... Well, it appears we have eighty seven minutes time to fill in
so before we let Fred bore you to death..so we'll go over to our roving
reporter who has the Toddlesworth manager...down in the tunnel..Rob
Wenslydale..Rob...."

"What?"

"You're on..".

"Oh Damn. Missed me cue again...anyway.. Brian Higginbottom has been
the Manager of Toddlesworth for...How long Brian?...Almost three weeks
now?..A club record..Now I know there'll be a lot of fans out there
who'll want me to ask you this..I realise there's thousands more who
get totally peed off with us reporters asking every Manager the same
stupid trite and totally irrelevant questions after every match and
who've probably switched off already...because they know full well that
every answer to every question will include the word "obviously" at
least twice..... But..just in case anyone IS still watching... How do
you account for the fact that you lost again..for what... the ninety
seventh or is it ninety eighth match in succession?"

"Well the way you put it Rob, it obviously sounds like we have a none
too impressive record. But, if you discount friendlies and cup
games....it's only eighty nine.

"And what about tonight's game?"

"Well Of course they're over the moon aint they? Or I suppose that
should be Euro over the Euro moon. Unfortunately Rob in this funny old
game of ninety minutes in two halves, obviously despite the fact that
we were obviously completely positive like, We obviously outplayed them
at the back, outmanoeuvred them in midfield and outran them up front,
the simple obvious fact of the matter is that when all is said and done
and despite our obvious positiveness..and I stress positiveness because
every other manager that gets interviewed does, at the end of the day
and on the night they obviously scored more goals than we did..and
generally beat the !!!! out of us. Mind you it was only one nil tonight
and I take heart from that. I thought the lads done great and obviously
gave a good all round team performance for almost the whole ninety
seconds..I mean you get some of those games when the unexpected starts
happening early...I mean who'd have thought the referee would blow the
bleedin' whistle to start the match for a start?

"Well the members of the commentary team thought that was
obvious..."

"An' when that number eleven of theirs kicked our Ivor in the.."

"Penalty area?"

"Exactly, Rob...Well I mean...He shoulda got a card for that."

"Obviousy....But the referee gave him a card..".

"Yeah, and I'm not makin' any suggestions about favouritism but it
said..'Happy bleedin' birthday!' Then there was that goal o'theirs. I
mean.... Damned unsportin' of 'em...".

"But they broke away when all eleven of your players were in the centre
circle...".

"Aye, I know...Posin' for the bloody team photograph."

"What's your view on the sending off? We thought the referee was well
placed to see the incident."

"Well, yes, the ref WAS well placed...flat on his back in the six yard
box with blood streamin' down 'is nose...but I still thought that he
was a bit harsh..I know that there're these new clamp down rules
they're sorta like imposing...but I mean Bruiser, our number four, well
I mean he didn't break his blinkin' jaw or ennythin'..now did
he?"

"No. He just knocked three of the linesman's teeth out."

"Exactly my point. Rob,...exactly my point..Very harsh
decision..."

"Thanks Brian..I know you're anxious to personally put all your squad
on the transfer list as your final act before the Chairman sacks you in
the mornin'...Brian.".

"Eh?...Er...which one?

"The one in the studio."

"Oh.. er.. yes well...thanks Rob...Fred....."

"Well..."

"Thanks Fred....Horace..."

"Jock...Any final comments?"

"War'l arrm gladd we's a outa dis cup. I didna fancy bein' in Europe
enner hoo.."

"Is that because of the journey or the quality of the football?"

"S'neither..That bluddy vodka dats sold over dare...s'like cats
!!!!"

"Well on that final note it's back to you...Brian..".

"Thanks Horace...Fred."

"Well.I think.."

"Thanks Fred.. Sorry but the director's giving me the wind up
signal..At least I think that's what he means...The News
beckons..

This will be a night to remember...One of those "Where were you?"
nights.. The night that Toddlesworth went out of the cup and the lights
went out all over Middlethorpe...

Don't forget...highlights tonight at 11.59...but don't be late..We
close at midnight....Goodnight".

"'Ere Brian what a bleedin' farce...".

"Yeah rubbish wasn't it...Are we still gettin' paid? Jock reckons it's
a loada ****!".

"I reckon the Director's havin' a seizure......
What's that? Turn the flamin' mikes off we're still on air....Oh
****!"