And so it continues

19 10 2010
Bangor City 4 XXX XXX XXXXXX X
Welsh Premier League

A match happened on this afternoon.

Bangor City 2 Prestatyn Town 1
Loosemore’s League Cup QF 2nd Leg

It’s a very strange sensation when you’ve lost your place in life, when the old certainties become less certain. We had a taste of this dislocation with reality today. The final whistle blew and we just stood there with a lack of comprehension.

During the game we thought we had kept abreast of details. We saw Lee Hunt score in the most Scally (Scalliest?) method possible – (he dispossessed Smithy on the edge of the penalty area, dribbled the ball up to the line, put the ball on the line, got on to his belly and headed the ball over the line). We saw Bangor equalise. We saw Sion dribble through the entire Prestatyn team and curl the ball in. We knew we led 2-1 after that. We saw the fine performances from some of the reserves drafted in, we even saw “Wilson, the contemptible little shit” live up to his title.

We saw all that happened during the game yet there we were at the final whistle, standing motionless and confused, looking forward to extra time. We didn’t know why the players celebrated; we didn’t know why they turned for the tunnel. Then someone spoke to us “Bangor have won on away goals” You’d think we’d know this kind of stuff by now wouldn’t you.

Wales 0 Bulgaria 1
Euro 2012 Qualifier

After the fantastic decision to play Welsh matches on a Friday we’d prepared ourselves to miss this one but we hadn’t prepared for the dreaded lurgee caught from a diseased Barbecue Chicken wrap. As the FAW have signed their soul to Murdoch we’re not allowed to watch our own national team’s home games for free anymore. Our original plan was to watch the match in one of Llandudno’s wonderful hostelries, then the lurgee struck. “Never mind”, we thought, “it’ll be on the internet!!”

After looking  through “My p2p” we found out that there were two channels showing the match, a Bulgarian station (which didn’t work) and Eurosport (which was in French and took five jerky minutes to stop working). We retired to bed, defeated.

We’d been defeated by Murdoch and his desire to control anything that remotely resembles a chance to make money. Consider the poor  ticket sales for tonight’s match and you may come to the conclusion that the Welsh population consider our national side to be poor. You may wonder if many Welsh people are paying for a Sky subscription  because of it’s contract with the FAW. In the light of these ideas you have to ask why Sky still bothering with Wales. The fact they still are bothering makes you fume; not only are Wales having a bit of a battering, you have to pay through the nose to witness it.

Thank you Murdoch, you cunt.

Llandudno 3 Rhydymwyn 0
Cymru Alliance

You can really hear the insults in ground populated by approximately 200 souls.

“You Scouse Prick”

“Fuck Off you!!!”

 “I’ve told you he’s a “big time” “

“Well done “big time”, what a touch!”

“I told you “big time” wouldn’t like you up him”

“Whatever, yer prick”

The badinage took place between Llandudno’s number 9 –  Tony Cann “Mr Big Time” and Rhydymwyn’s avuncular manager. The match happened and was nothing more than an opportunity to practice photography.



Switzerland 4 Wales 1
Euro 2012 Qualifier

After regaining our health Club 147 was our destination, what joy. Murdoch the cunt forces North Walians into close proximity with braying morons if they want to take an interest in their national team. We got to Club 147 and found it moron free. Sometimes it’s unhelpful to be so cynical, there’s too much nervous tension.

10 of us watched Wales while a darts match took place to our left. After 20 minutes the Scots arrived then the English. The Scots were by far the loudest, “Come on Scotland!” echoed around the spacious bar.

Our match experience was annoying. We thought this match could kick-start our qualifying campaign. Just to give the Jet Set hope a very young Welsh side held their own against a piss-poor Swiss side. Gareth Bale was outstanding with tireless running. He was so effective that the Swiss escaped their neutrality to perform tag-team fouls upon his legs. Tranquilo Barnetta stood out in this regard. The Swiss not only fouled, they dived too, and then moaned about it. Alexander Frei led from the front in this regard.

Wales were having a right go and at 2-1 down we were looking ok. Then the God of international football intervened. A Swiss player dived in the box and they were awarded a penalty. There’s no worse sight than a scorer gleefully pointing at the player who has set them up, Switzerland unveiled a variation, the scorer of the penalty pointed at the diver. A disheartened team conceded a fourth goal to give the scoreline an unhelpful impression. The Swiss players pointed at each other as the Jet Set muttered. 4-1, it could have been 2-2. Just after the 4th Swiss goal “Get in there you cheatin’ Spanish bastards” was bellowed. Scotland were level with Spain. Why Wales couldn’t have a result like this?

We walked home through the cold mist under a metaphysical cloud.

Bangor City 5 Newtown 2
Welsh Premier League

It all went too swimmingly. The new mascot “The Bangor Eye” made a good impression on his first appearance of the season.  Bangor scored first; Bully with a  fab volley. Then Morley scored a penalty. Wardy added a third with a curled drive. Fantastic goals were becoming routine in this wonderful season. We even sold loads of stuff at half time. It felt too good to be true again.

As we packed the stock away there was the unmistakable sound of an away goal, a sort of muffled cheer. As I was walked behind the goal Newtown were awarded what is commonly known as a “soft free kick”. Smithy shouted to the wall but the wall wasn’t listening and the free kick was quickly taken. The ball curled into the goal, via a post, in slow motion. We half expected the goal to be disallowed for ungentlemanly conduct but the rotters not only celebrated, they rushed to retrieve the ball. So it was too good to be true, curse our pessimistic ways, we’ve ruined it for everybody else again. It was now 3-2, not 3-0.

As we progressed around the ground Bully managed to slot the ball past the advancing keeper and we managed to get a shot of the ball as it passed the keeper’s outstretched arms. Just before we reached the other end Brewie smashed the ball home. Everybody may have been smiling but we felt we couldn’t do it. Indeed after the euphoria evaporated our dread returned, we tried to ignore it yesterday but we couldn’t any longer.

We felt tired due to the worry of it all. We were so tired that everything felt hopeless, hopeless and never-ending. This season seems to be step after step after step, 10 games gone,  22 to go. Twenty Two!! Jesus do we feel tired, when will this purgatory end?  Can we keep the run going? Neath next week, Llanelli not long after, the pressure’s getting to the Jet Set now. We’re 10 points ahead of Neath with a game in hand and 14 ahead of XXX XXX XXXXXX with two games in hand, what if they both win we’ll only have a cushion of 7/8 points. Christ we’ve got to go to the plastic palace yet. The pressure, oh lord the pressure. When’s the season over, help!!!!!!!!!!!!

Or, to  put it another way, maybe we shouldn’t go to matches when we haven’t slept during the previous night.



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