Catchphrase: Say what you see

Park football whether it be on Saturday or Sunday, is set solidly in thorough routine. Days are taken up solely for the pursuit of running (moving) around a grass (August to November only) field. In the absence of spectators, players feel the need to fill the silence with noises of their own - it's almost as if shouting is directly correlated to effort. Sticking with the theme of routine, one can't help but notice that players have their own footballing cathphrases. Burridge is no exception, here's what you can hear if you visit.

Ross Bryant: "Who's picking?" This is a particular favourite, it translates as 'who's marking,' which to the layman, means: 'why am I marking I don't like running to my own goal?' Also rather fond of releasing a primal scream every time he's unhappy with his sliced finishes or overhit free kicks. It is heard often.

Dykey: Not best known for his words but more his familiar grunt, which is one of disapproval when he's not given the ball to his minds exact designated destination. It's usually followed by 'that's awful' as he gives chase to his favourite situation - the second touch which is often known as the tackle.

Andrews: In his full-back hey day was famously remembered for his high pitched, 'I've got two' like an extra out of Zulu who's out of ammo.

Kev Willsher: Seemingly silent, but if in close proximity can be heard to sigh impatiently - as a father does when his Sunday lie in is interrupted by the kids jumping on him - as our forwards let another chance go begging.

Scott Burnet: 'On his touch' is often bellowed in parrot fashion, it's quite obvious that the mind numbing experience of playing for Survey, a side who seemed to neither concede or score, has brain washed him to adopt this phrase. Perhaps he should repeat the mantra to himself the next time balsa wood sculptured Dave Hopkins turns him inside out in training.

Lee Fielder: Not so vocal, but it's almost impossible to ignore his continual furrowed brow, which irrespective of mood, looks as if he's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Although as he often does this when listening, it's fair to assume it's a sign of concentration.

Rich Allan: 'Let the ball do the work' has been uttered without fail at every half time inquest since at least 2001. It's one of the biggest lies in football, as to do so players have to be constantly on the move to collect the ball and avoid the opposition clutches.

Kristian Hewitt: Before and after game this individual can be perfectly affable, but during the game loves a good moan. One to avoid eye contact with if you decide to leave the opposition a free run on goal. Along with Dykey, guaranteed to have a heated discussion with Ross.

Jay Schwodler: 'For F*ck's sake' is the uttered platitude. It has lost alls meaning due to violent over usage; maintained in all situations, eg. when greeted with any pass towards him you're likely to hear 'For F*ck's sake.'

Bryn Schwodler: Very good at motivating, although usually the opposition. Has often been heard to state during the game that 'we should be putting ten past sides like these,' which wildly breaks the social rules of constraint which clearly state that one shouldn't talk about somebody in the third person when they're present, let alone in a indignant tone. Also, when Burridge are loosing loves to toss away all responsibility, with comments that suggest that the level of football he's being subjected to is quite below his efforts.

Colin Barfoot: Again another who's actions are more familiar than his words. Over the years I've noted his vacant stare; it was seen when on arrival to Allotment Road, when realizing he'd forgotten to bring the kit. The possibility of honouring a fixture in our pants and vest became distinctly possible before his high speed chase home to retrieve it. Also seen when loosing daughter or being asked pertinent questions as he struggles to think through a situation and maintain eye contact simultaneously