Discussion Forum

Come on chaps let's send the old woman down the offie to get the ales in and then lock the irritating little bleeder in the bedroom with a DVD of Gone With The Wind and a box of Kleenex Extra Feeble for a couple of hours this afternoon while we hairy-arsed footie warriors tear into the grog and the gaspers and have a fucking good f and blind as we roar on the ones we've got our dough on down the bookies or conversly the team that comes from a place quite near where our Auntie used to live.

Roll on 3.00 pm!!!.....................

'old up though! WTF!.............they're only kicking off the greatest, most venerable and prestigious cup tie in the whole of the known bastard world at 5.15 to fit in with the TV shedules! A kind of warm up act for Britain's Got Toerags!!

Not only does this mean that me and the chaps will be lying on my front room carpet in pools of our own vomit by the time the band plays the intro to Abide With Me, but it will also mean around 40 thousand Scousers will be dossing down in Trafalagar Square because it will be pitch black in Liverpool by the time they get home and they wont be able to find their houses due to the fact that some light fingered slippery arseole has nicked all the street lamps!

Seriously though boys it breaks my fucking heart to see the way this once mighty sporting occasion has been fucked over so royally by the tv moguls and the geezers with cobwebs on their suits at the FA (an acronym perhaps?)

Terry Venables has written a blinding article in The Sun this morning on the criminal and disgusting dumbing down of what used to be the pinnacle of the sporting calendar, not just in this country, but right across the globe from Antarctica to Zanzibar!

Discuss.

I don't know about you, but I miss the days of "Dishy" Des Lynam and Jimmy "The Twat with the chin" Hill.

Even though my beloved Leicester City haven't been in a final since 1969, I still used to wake up all excited on cup final day. I get more excited now on bin day.

I'll still watch it though. And dream of Des and Jimmy with John Motson's commentary running in the background.

I wonder who'll get to wear the lid of the cup as a hat this year.

Jumpers for goalposts. Etc.

Terry Venables has written an article? I suspect that may be a lie as I know for a fact that he can't write. I once asked him for his autograph outside the High court but he ignored my book and pen and gobbed right in my eye. What more proof do you need?!

On Maggot's advice I've now been out and bought today's Current Bun to varder El Tel's handiwork.

Oh how I puked!

Terry Boy echoes the words of Sir Alex yesterday. And much though it heaves my slathering gut to agree with a maggot, I have to admit, yes! The FA Cup ain't what it was.

Now then!

Talking of Terry Venables...

All those who have seen The Shawshank Redemption and know it well. Plus those who have a copy of today's said Current Bun to hand.

Turn to Page 76 and view John Terry..

Gaze into his eyes..

Remind you of anyone?

Answers on a postcard..

Well, there I was, all ready for the pre-match build-up.


The coffee table groaning with sausage rolls, twiglets and Golden Wonder crisps.
A crate of pale ale at my side, and a party 4 sitting on the sideboard.

I've got my bobble-hat, my wooden rattle, and a rosette pinned to my parka.


There's even a packet of 20 sporting woodbines and a 'World's best football supporter' ashtray from the pound shop.


I switch on the telly, hoping for some in-depth analysis from Jimmy Hill, and maybe some hilarious comic quips from Jimmy Tarbuck, and what do we get? A couple of women wittering on about a new type of blending machine!


Honestly, I don't know why we bother with the shopping channel!

It doesn't feel like Cup Final day. It's sad, but as usual there'll be hardly any real fans there - the kick off time is an abomination. Where does that leave the genuine Liverpool fans who've shelled out their hard-earned and have to get back?

Had to laugh last night though when her indoors asked me who I'd be supporting? Hmm - Liverpool or Chelsea?

Errrr...can't we just skip today and fast forward to Sunday?

Luv

Skoob.

Last years final was unusual in that it clashed with the last day of Premier League football, with City and United doing the 'Mancester' double.

This year feels even more strange in that the PL & FL's are not finished. I know Euro 2012 is a factor in that, but feels weird.

And of course, the whole day - the build-up etc, used to be special when their was a lot less live football on tv, before sky an' all that.

As usual, I blame Rupert

That's it boys! Half hour till the off and I'm champing at the bit. Some lovely posts from you lot which really made me smile and yearn for those sepia tinged days when you'd draw the curtains at 10.00 and switch on the Beeb (it had to be Ken Wolstenholme really didn't it chaps eh?) to watch the players mincing round the grounds at The Selsdon Park Hotel before being filmed tucking into pie and mash and having a few liveners before kick off.

Blimey if you filmed the fuckers in the mornings these days half of em would be taking phone pics of their morning wood and sending em to Cheryl Cole!

Righto. Enjoy the game chaps and during the quieter passages of play think back to Trevor Brooking's 16th minute header that saw the mighty Irons stuff Arseole 1-0 to lift the famous old trophy for the third time in 1980. I know I will!



x

Abide with me.

Smarten up Liverpool! Let's have a game!

---

Quote: radiogagger

Abide with me.

---

Blimey that's what Cheryl Cole said when Trevor Brooking sent her a phone pic of his cory last Saturdee!

Have you been hacking her voicemails again mate?

RG = Rupert's role model. FACT!

Looks like it's game on. Scousers got their tails up.

Was that an acronym Skoobie?

Righto chaps 2-1 to The Blues and that's sweet payback for 2006 when the Scousers mugged us off big style.

Now then boys, who fancies a match over the wasteground? It'll be Skoob's Spoofeteers v The Acronomists. The team that's scored the most when the kid with the ball gets called in by his mum to have his tea is the winner!

Last one on the pitch is a slathering folder! Bagsy not in goal!

Huzzah!

Bagsy I'm Bobby Charlton!

I'll be Ralphie Milne.

Or maybe Ashley 'Fag End' Grimes...

Or even Jim Leighton.

I have NOTHING to say about the CUP FINAL!!

I don't care who WON or who LOST!

I watched the game in a state of absolute calm and near oblivion, neither puking when Mr Drogba scored nor slathering when Mr Carroll orchestrated a comeback.

Did the best side win?

Oh no. They were both the best side. Chelsea for the first 45 minutes and Liverpool for the rest.

Time added-on (5 minutes) was a 0-0 draw, I believe.

And I also wish to say a few words about the referee and his linesmen.

So fair!!! So neutral!!! I thought they were all marvellous.

Can I play in tonight's game please?

Underwhelming.

Fieldsy - Bobby Charlton? With that luxuriant barnet? Behave!

CJ. You're very very drunk and you're very very in goal mate! *fume*

And now a short one act play:

Fergie - Ye reminded me 'o the great Matthews the way ye payed oot there todae Skoob son!

Skoob - Eeeeee thanks gaffer that's reet kind o' thee! The great Stanley eh?

Fergie - Nae laddie. The great Jessie!

Curtain falls

Well can I be Jimmy Dickinson then? I have a cultured left foot and I blush when other players swear.

Ellis ( to team mate) - How did you get on today mate?

Team Mate - The boss pulled me off at half time mate

Ellis - You jammy bastard! All I got was a slice of orange!

WE WON!!!! Oh the drama of the goal that was not! I was going to shoot my son (Arsenal supporter) if they had given the goal to Liverpool. Only had the one bullet, just in case we lost.


Arm xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dants... Danto... Danty baby...

Rodney Marsh... I didn't ask to be him.

Jimmy was a gent.

Ooh, isn't it? Are they? Was it in? Rush goalie, jumpers for goal posts, Terry, Mums calling him in for tea, Beans on toast! Likely! Marvelous.




Arm xxxxxxxx

Oh yes, Martin Peters ghosting in, Allan 'Sniffer' Clarke at the back post, Trevor Brooking, elegant as ever. Those were the days. Bobby Charlton, isn't it? Bobby, pushing across the few strands of hair, constantly moaning at the referee. And now there's Bremner, little Billy Bremner, squaring up to Dave MacKay, and they're both off, off they go, to share a dirty bare-chested bath, oh yes. Denis Law, a tragic figure as he back-heels the Busby Babes into oblivion and sentences himself to decades of incomprehensible punditry and working the clubs as a Rod Stewart tribute act and who can forget the artistry of dear old Norman 'bite yer legs' Hunter and his titanic duel with giant-killing Ray Crawford's Colchester United when they were watching in the trees above Layer Road's scratching sheds? Ah, yes. And over it all shines 1966, Nobby Styles and his dancing false teeth, plucky little Tommy Atkins against the mighty Hun, will we ever see the likes again, Alan Ball, running himself daft, they think it's all over, Jackie Charlton sitting in the filthy bath smoking woodbines and drinking babycham out of Alf Ramsey's cloth cap while brave little Eric Pickles discovers the stolen World Cup sticker book, oh yes, excuse me while I orgasm into my World Cup Willie pyjama case.

^^^^^^^^ Sublime piece of writing. Evocative and killingly funny.

Yours wasn't too shabby either Erskin