21 02 2009
Colwyn Bay 3 FC ‘alifax Town 1
Unibond League Division 1

This was supposed to be a chance to see Stotty, a Bangor old boy, in action and a chance to see Colwyn Bay get spanked as well. I am quite prepared renounce my local identity for the simple reason that their fans are irritating. A small political situation arose about 18 years ago and ever since Colwyn Bay’s fans have seen themselves as the moral equivalents of Wrexham, Swansea and Cardiff. Non-acceptance of reality is their default setting. “I’d rather be beaten by Prescott Cables than a Romanian Pub-team” is their mantra. Couple this with the presence of  Stotty, a hero at Bangor last season, and the desire for a ‘alifax win was obvious.

This desire was there until I went in the club shop and heard an ‘alifax fan boasting that they had “…a stand with a bigger capacity than yer ground!” Then I managed to find myself in the middle of a group of imbeciles. One in particular was mesmerised by a sign that announced sheep should go in the rear of somewhere. The concept of Welsh self-deprecation had been obviously dismissed by the simpleton so he asked all of the other intellectuals to behold the sign “EEEEH, LOOK AT THAT SIGN!!! REET FUNNY IS THAT, I’LL GET ME A PHOTO. ELI LOOUUUK!!! SHEEP!!!! EEEEE BAAAA GUM!!!” (The impression may or may not be accurate). I remembered that the ‘alifax fans were numerous in Rhyl and the sheep comments were also numerous, how refreshing that in these times of flux some things remain constant, dickheads. Then Stotty appeared and I wavered.

‘alifax are obviously the bigger club. They went out of business in the summer and a new club was formed. The new club joined the Unibond League Divison one. Instinctively one should feel sorry for the fans but all compassion evaporated with one chant of “ING-ER-LAND, ING-ER-LAND, ING-ER-LAND” and another of “SHEEP, SHEEP, SHEEP, SHEEPSHAGGERS!!”

Halifax didn’t look much good either; not a single clear chance was created for Stotty and hardly any passing moves were attempted. There was much grumbling, this may have been about the football or this could be the usual method of communication between Yorkshuremen. Near the end of the match the dicks from the first half conga-ed their way past chanting “ING-ER-LAND”.

A translation for the intellectuals; “Tha might say what tha chuffin’  well likes and tha might chuffin well likes what tha sez but tha are a reet load of twats and tha lost. Git tha sen home with tha tail between the legs”. 













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