Vs Team Scandinavia- The Low Countries
6-3 Loss TH(1)(MOM), RH(1 0r 2?), JH, TK, AW, CG(GK)
Fucking Scandinavian low country bitches. Two faced cock heads. In the war they were all “we’re neutral”, then “actually we’ve got blond hair too we’re with the Nazi dudes”, then “microwave ovens are cool, let’s go suck on some American cock”. Fucking Finnish Amsterdamian fjord lovers, if Brussells is so cool why isn’t Luxembourg a part of Belgia then? Jesus! Anyway they’d all had tank commander training from the Waffen SS so they were well drilled, they’d been on the echinacea pills since birth so they were fit young specimens, they could run, pass, strike and all that shit, their dicks could table dance the Jenkka at 140 bpm, while pulling one of those overwrought Belgian beers that yuppies love so much, all the fucking while with a smile on their dirty wannabe aryan faces. What hope did a somewhat depleted Nannas have? What chance the aging brown men against such a virulent specimen? What tricks could Old King Lion muster from his bag of old tricks? I’LL FUCKING TELL YOU WHAT TRICKS! HOW ABOUT THE TRICK OF FUCKING HAVING BALLS AND STEPPING UP TO THE OPPRESSOR NO MATTER WHAT THE ODDS. (that trick always fucks the kids) HOW ABOUT THE TRICK OF SEEING THE TINIEST CHINK IN THE OTHERWISE IMPREGNABLE 9 INCH REACTIVE TITANIUM ARMOUR AND FUCKINGWELL HAMMERING ON THAT CHINK UNTIL IT CRACKS WIDE OPEN. Let’s break down the tricks then shall we?: Trick one – Stand up to them – You are a proud Nanna with a fighting heritage that goes back over 10 years, sure you’re facing up against an opponent superior in many ways SO WHAT? Form on paper don’t count for shit, he still must beat you, you take it to his sorry herring eating arse and you make him beat you, every time, and you make it hard for him to beat you, you make him think twice about wanting to beat you. This we did. Trick two – Drive a wedge into his crack – His crack in this instance being his lack of goalie, the wedge in this case being our constant pounding of his crack, lots of aerial balls in, lots of shots on goal, lots of being there for the parry and fumble. This we did, Rhian scored from the head from a big throw in from Giller, and I managed to crumb one. Plus Giller kept kicking the ball into their heads but they just kept smiling. All that said they were pretty good, we certainly gave them a bit of a scare when we drew level, and the score only really blew out in the last couple of minutes when we pushed forward trying to arse the game back.
For afters Giller slipped his tougne into big Jim’s ear and said “LP – tropical far North Fitzroy”, new and super groovy we drank Quilmes and had a little impromptu.