Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Number One With A Bullet

It is a bittersweet day in Internet Pool Humour circles. As regular surfers will know, there are only two funny pool related sites in the whole of internetland. And we’re the second funniest. Not any more though as word on the message board “LaughAtYourOwnJokes.com” indicates the impending closure of the Zeds site. All of which means that there’s a gap in the market for articulately written match reports describing calamitous defeats. And there will forever remain such a gap as we DON’T DO LOSING. Or anything articulate.

Quick nod to last weeks entry (for the confused) – The Robbie song was in reference to our opponents, The Galleon, failing to show and eventually giving the league secretary the excuse that they’d gone to see the aforementioned pop crooner strut his stuff a mere 5 minutes down the road. Bastards. Maybe one day I’ll disseminate the headlines of each weeks blog entry. They’re not that interesting really. You’ll have all sussed the Magnificent 7 reference a few weeks back. Last weeks “Vaminos” was down to the forced viewing of 700 hours of children’s TV whilst one of the Junior Stingers was ill. I can recite all the songs you know. Maybe I should have saved the headline for this week match report. Why? Well, the team we were playing were pretty young. Oh go on then, you’ve twisted my arm, a match report in the style of:

Doga The Explorer

Where are we going? The North Western! Where are we going? The North Western! Where are…. Ahhhh fuck this, you see how irritating kids TV can be?

And so our first visit to The North Western since compasses were invented. What do we find then? Freshly recovered table that is so fast you need to put your seat belt on before playing. As we’re the type of guys that go on the ‘Tea Cups’ at Alton Towers, fast is not our thing. Neither is unlevel. So Fast AND Unlevel it meant that Mark would rather be sat on the M1 (in a car, not literally sat on the tarmac). Anyways, Jody masters the thing by convincingly sinking the black at the 100th time of asking. 1-0. Dog falls victim to the roll and swears off playing anymore slow shots ever. Until the next one which also dips off. Doh. Luckily nothing is left on either occasion and good things come to those who wait. 2-0. Jamie takes out a clearance only to throw in a slow shot on his last ball. Needless to say the table sticks its tongue going “Ner Ner Ner”. Jamie’s oppo cant find the required snooker and that is that. 3-0. Andy takes on the leagues youngest player in frame 4. He couldn’t have played him any earlier as he wasn’t born until the beginning of frame 2. An unfortunate leave on the black by Andy means he cannot pot the black around the afterbirth and the Western take one out. 3-1. Normality returns as Zared wraps up the fifth, Jamie secures the sixth and Dog takes the score to 6-Andy. With the horrific car crash imagery surrounding the possible 9-AndyAndy score-line, the old Chapdog decides its time to buck up his ideas. The sight of sooty plopping home sends the RAFA supporters into raptures. He’s BACK! 7-1 and Zared cannot bear to see a 10-Andy. Playing the leagues youngest player, who has suddenly morphed into a mini Terry Davidson since his first frame, he allows youth its chance to shine. 7-2. Say BackPack BackPack. What we got in here? Now kids, do we want a win from Jody or a 3/3 for Jamie? You want BOTH! Awww man. 9-2. They nominated Jamie as our Man of the Match, probably for his overt display of friendliness (no tongues were involved I think, although the saliva on Jody’s cheek is still undetermined). Man of the Match for them was ‘The Foetus’.

Night Night Children, or as they say “That’s All Folks”

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