Time until the next game at Benalmadena Polideportivo
The Death of Football
It was the moment the World had been waiting for. The return of the “trotting” footie season 2022/23. Of course, the aged athletes were mourning the loss of……our Keef, who after a century of lecturing a group of grown men about not running and defo no tackles, had decided to hand over his throbbing orb to Celtic revolutionary Breck to carry on the ancient tradition. Surely this was the greatest event there had ever been and all walking footballers should prostrate themselves in front of Breck. Meanwhile, rather like a cut-price Alex Ferguson, Keef agreed to take a back seat on the Board, and we all know how that panned out.
Anyway, Breck got off to a good start by picking two ill-matched teams, with the reds full of dynamism, energy and Dazza’s Gaelic football talents. Luton’s 23rd choice keeper Steve looked unbeatable behind a solid defence of libero TV Kev (not quite the most southerly based Man Utd supporter) confidently marshalling his defence. With Keef running (walking) into space on the right, big Al looked dangerous in his deep-lying centre forward role, supported by WFS’s answer to Pogba-Manuel, gliding effortlessly between the lines. John the “bald Jesus” was playing upfront with his sparkly new Gunners jersey advising us all to go to Rwanda for some reason. Has Spain got a new immigration policy?
The blacks were a tad pessimistic about their chances, with Rory (Mr minus 10percent) slightly off the pace and Kevo nursing his dodgy knees, they were even more dependent on flying Hungarian wunderkind Johnny and wordle Olympian Stephen to eke out some chances. Breck was solid as usual with a 100% pass success rate and Steve confidently leaving the name of his boot maker on the calf of anyone who came close enough. James, arriving fashionably late, slotted into defence and had a good mastery of go! Stay! Move forward! Stay back! Leading to much confusion in the cerebrally challenged blacks’ defence.
The game started off on the wrong side of dull, with both sides ably cancelling each other out and the crowd drawn to watching the paint dry on a nearby lamppost. However, with big Al’s ability to hold up the ball, the reds were getting a territorial advantage and soon started to fire off some shots which threatened the local wildlife in nearby trees. If they’d hit the target, they were guaranteed a goal given that James had taken the gloves for the first 15. Surprisingly, the Shay Given wannabee didn’t have to save anything and this gave the blacks increasing confidence. Furthermore anyone who closed in on goal would unceremoniously be taken out by a mistimed James tackle followed by profuse apologies and advice on improving your medical insurance cover.
With the goal hungry Hungarian creating space up front the blacks surprisingly broke the deadlock in the second period. -10 percent Rory threaded a delightful ball through to Johnny in space on the right. The Puskás playmaker fired the ball across goal for the unbalanced (and that’s not a reference to his mental health!) Stephen to fire the ball into the top corner. A goal that Pep would have been proud of.
With John dribbling around Rory yet again! It looked like it was only a matter of time before the reds would draw level. Keef worked a number of good positions in front of goal but he soon demonstrated why QPR have one of the poorest goal differences in the Championship. Dazza continued to Alexander-Arnold his way down the right, firing in a series of superb balls for his profligate forward line. Big Al attempted to battering ram his way through the blacks’ defence, but Kevo had one of his superb goalkeeping outings and repelled a series of Exocets fired in from close range.
Inevitably, the sucker punch arrived with silky milky Steve gliding forward and picking Breck out in front of goal. The newly self-appointed leader of the walking footballers delivered a lesson in cool finishing and fired the ball past Steve’s despairing dive. Reds 0-2 Blacks. Game over man!! Matters got worse for the reds when libero Kevin was taken out by a knee clash with Stephen’s carbon fibre left knee. Soon after, playmaker Emanuel suffered some calf twang and had to retire to the physio room. It could only get worse, and surely did for the plucky reds. As the time ticked down, the sub-par Rory picked out poacher Johnny who put it on a plate for Stephen to fire through Steve’s legs (that’s his chance of a last minute World Cup call-up gone South) to give the blacks a thoroughly undeserved victory. Final Score Reds 0-3 Blacks.
What a great season opener but remember walking footballers…. stretch those muscles. As Stephen, our chief stater of the obvious would say – we’re not getting any younger.