Three large men sat in the Bugle watching England play Wales in the opening game of the Six Nations. Burridge forward Sam Hewitt saw to it that they watched England's collapse elsewhere, after demanding that the juke-box he'd already chosen songs from was turned on. Oasis played loudly over the BBC's commentary. The largest of the three men's complaint was ignored, so they left, as Noel Gallagher sung about being tired and sick, and having a habit he couldn't kick.
Lyrics not to be lost on Sam Schwodler.
Try as he might, Schwodler couldn't ignore the sound of pound coins being spat out of the fruit machine behind him. The mystery punter took a sip of his pint and pocketed his winnings, saying, "Not bad for a quid," which caused the Burridge lads sat at the bar to fall about laughing, seeing as they'd all seen Sam put about forty quid down it five minutes earlier.
"Don't give a fuck," said Schwodler. "Don't bother me," but his protests were made through gritted teeth. It was a costly lesson. Bad enough Schwodler's loot being down the swanny, but finding its way into another man's pocket a few minutes later from a speculative quid was hard to swallow. It's difficult to imagine how his elder brother Jay would have coped with that kind of loss after demanding that their other brother Bryn stay for another drink after Jay'd shelled out eleven pounds forty-seven on the previous round.
That same fruit machine reminded me very much of today's game. During the first half Burridge cut Hythe to pieces, but time after time they shot wide or over the crossbar. They went in at half-time only a Bryn Schwodler goal up having to shoot up the slope in the second half. A slope thats gradient seemed to increase with the passing of time.
The defining moment of the game came when Hythe's captain danced into the penalty area and struck low to Burridge sticksman Stanfield's right, who showed all a good firm wrist. Or what's known in the game as a chocolate wrist, by tipping the ball onto the post. The velocity of the strike demanded the very strongest of chocolate wrists.
Chocolate wrist verdict? King size Christmas Toblerone that's not been out the fridge for two days. A C.W.R that I think you'll all agree is unsurpassble in the current climate of confectionery.
Burridge go one point behind second place Netley with a game in hand. The question on everyone's lips is - can Burridge avoid the chokes?
The Burridge Line-up:
4-5-1: Stanfield, L.Sanderson, K.Hewitt(c), M.Sanderson, J.Schwodler, Jones, Newman (Reeves), J.Hewitt, B.Schwodler, S.Schwodler (Baker), Hutton (S.Hewitt)
6 comments:
Being at the pub sounds like it was more fun than being at the game. What did I do? Oh, I just stayed in and watched Adebayor and his team mates destroy Man City. Yeah, it was alright.
Who's in charge of our Burridge page on the full-time website?
Whoever it is, is doing a piss poor job of keeping it up together. I want to take over the reins. I have a lot of spare time on my hands at present. Oh yes, why else would i sit through the utter shite that they call the SUPERBOWL?
I tell you now, there really isn't anything super about it. At all.
You'll do well to find someone with stronger wrists. I did, afterall, live on my own for nearly 2 years!!
Good result again Sat another clean sheet with a solid rear guard action in the last 20 minutes from the mid-field and the defence.You never know what standard these reserve sides are going to be like so I am more than happy to walk away with the spoils.Good to see Bryn back on the score sheet again.See you all Wed the gaffer
I coming round to teh bloke who works at the Bugle come 4:45pm on a Saturday afternoon, when us Burridge lot pile in, desperate for a pint.
3 points for anyone can engage him in banter, and a further point if you can find out his name.
I presume he doesn't like footie, by now you'd think he'd have our nicknames, know that we're chasing promotion to the Premier League, and is it me or would a fork not go a miss with the sausage and chips?
I mean they're red-hot for Christ's sake. Well, s'pose I could ask old happiness himself this Saturday. Christ, if we didn't spend a couple of hours in there, that pub'd be empty.
Always the Dolphin I s'pose. Actually, I'd rather take some barnstormer up the swings than drink in that dive.
All we need (at Burridge) is a few more midfielders, taht's what we need.
His name is Paul same as the owner dont get them mixed up if you decide to give him any of your sarcastic wit!!
Paul, eh?
Well I feel friendship's a two way street, and am prepared to work on the relationship, found out what movies he likes, the team he supports, his favourite dish.
Paul, I'm sorry. Help me to help you. Now have a lager top ready for me at 5pm will you, oh and a packet of Quavers too while you're at it.
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