Duty calls

greenspun.com : LUSENET : Unofficial Newcastle United Football Club BBS : One Thread

Unfortunately, not to NUFC. I have been asked to escort a customer to a football match today as our company has a box at one of the Premiership grounds. I agreed to this some months ago and can't get out of it, although I'd much rather be meeting in the Strawbeery at 13:30 instead of enjoying a corporate do (divvent fear Clarky, I won't be wearing my suit!).

So, please spare a thought for me while you lot are chearing on Toon, I will be watching Sky for the updates while my guests are watching their team get stuffed by Aston Villa.

I'll be in Toon ower the weekend for a formal cleansing session.

-- Anonymous, April 29, 2000

Answers

Sreacher - you mean you're entertaining

makems???

This has to be a major concern - entertaining makem toffs in suits!!! I didn't think such beasts existed. Sounds like my worst nightmare.

Enjoy!

-- Anonymous, April 29, 2000


I don't believe it either. Screacher is just covering himself, I've suspected it for months now,I've seem the signs, no B/w shirt, hardly ever goes to home games, pretends to be abroad when he really is in Makemland. Screacher I'm afraid to say, has been lured by the Dark side and soon the transformation will be complete. Screacher = Makem

-- Anonymous, April 29, 2000

So Screacher is the first of a new breed clarky? A corporate Makem.

-- Anonymous, April 29, 2000

Oh b*gg*r! You've sussed me. Damn.

I am going under cover. It's a covert operation, not to be mentioned outside this BBS. YBR has asked me to do a spying job. He wants to see if Stevie Watson would be worth bringing back to Toon, along with Thompson and Stone. He's also known to be on the lookout for a new strike partner for Big Al so has asked me to check on Donkey Dublin and some tw@t in a Reg Vardy shirt.

Operational report here later.

Toon, Toon, Black & White Army

-- Anonymous, April 29, 2000


Rik,

It's tragic man, bloody tragic! Screacher is 'outed' - lost to the dark side. Only Obyonekan-bobby can bring him back now.
May the force be with him, poor sod!

-- Anonymous, April 29, 2000



Report from the behind enemy lines

My mission, should I choose to accept it, was to infiltrate enemy lines and report on the skirmishes between Gregory's Girls and Peyter's Primates. Despite the easy option of another trip to friendly territory, I decided to take on the challenge. Initially, the firepower seemed reasonable - two Mackems lined up against one Geordie. No contest. However, in order to make it more enteraining, a further two Mackems were invited while I called up reinforcements in the shape of Screach MkII. However, in the drinking stakes, he was bound to be streets ahead of the enemy, having been a student at Aston for the last 4 years.

My route to the battle lines was uneventful, chosen to ensure that I remained unnoticed, blending in with other foot (or should it be wheel?) soldiers of Chester City on their way to their own particular battle. I set up base camp in Erdington, having recced the battle field from the safe distance of the high ground of the M6. A minor skirmish ensued when I was confronted with a Glory Hunter, still smarting from losing two trophies already this year, as well as declining to battle for another. He was soon gunned down, with help from his girlfriend who happened to come from Chester-le-Street. Despite that, she hoped Villa would lose. Bliddy wimmin.

We approached the battleground in the Stealth Astra via a circuitous route (Screach MkII got lost) with my battle colours camoflaged under a white jumper with the black collar of my battle-dress, trimmed with blue and carefully arranged just to show, thus ensuring a modicum of recognition from Screach MkII should we get separated. I was reassured to notice that the enemy soldiers were looking apprehensive. Nothing like the bullish boys in black and white on that glorious day earlier in the season when Toon recorded their first away victory. It would appear they were more interested in the contents of the pie and burger vans that the Cap 'n' Gown on Witton Road. Tossers.

The Stealth Astra was secreted among the Jags, 4x4s and German and Italian battlewaggons in the Trinity Road base camp and we made our way to the battle scene. No sign of the enemy, but their rations were easily visible - Salmon en Croute, Sliced Ham, Chicken Breasts and Pasta. Certainly they were sending the Toffs and not the pie-eating foot soldiers. This was to be an enjoyable battle. With time to spare, the Toon Army (Screacher Division) sought sustainance. Sadly, our quartermasters had failed to ensure that supplies of Broon had made their way to the battlefront, so we had to make do with Tetleys and a pint of lager for the Student Toonster. No sooner had we started to discuss the battle plan, than we were roused by a communication on the Nokia, warning us that the enemy had arrived.

Exchanges were light and we suffered no injuries, while throwing a number of cutting remarks at the Mackems, only one of whom seemed to have the intelligence to be hurt by any of them. Their frontline attack appeared in advance of the battle to check out the battlefield, which was looking in prime condition, predominantly green with a slight sparseness at the centre of eash end. They were led out by the Head Primate, cunningly disguised in a suit. Strangely enough, there were no goal posts in sight, and the Head Primate looked stunned - there was nowhere to hang from. The prospect of a boring midfield battle loomed into sight. Fortunately, before too late, somebody noticed and the targets were errected before he-with-the-monkeys-heed swore for the fiftieth time in a minute.

The battle itself was quite entertaining with little real threat on the targets. The Home Guard came closest to making a hit while the chief marksman for the enemy was stopped by a good save from the last line of defence of their opponents. This was to be the last threat of the day to be posed by the Great Pretender and he disappeared into annonymity. Nobody else from the enemy looked like making any positive contribution. However, the support troops from both sides were noticibly quiet, this despite the chance that the winner would progress to do battle in foreign fields whil ethe loser would be resigned to lose twice against the Toon Army next season. Meanwhile, the Home Guard, under the guideance of Captain Gregory, were only prevented from making "Hey" while the sun shined by some poor shooting and some lucky positioning of the enemy troops (which was not to continue later in the battle). Although no major hits had been made, when the troops were recalled for halftime, the Home Guard were clearly on top.

Captain Gregory had obviously had strong words ("Come along chaps. Pull yourselves together. Villa expects") and it certainly worked. The Home Guard pressed hard and their reward came from a corner which Private Sorenson should have cut out but he let the ball through to the head of Gareth Barry. His header should have been stopped by the enemy trooper stood by the post, but he fumbled his attempt and found his magazine empty. 1-0 and a deserved lead.

The battle continued with the Home Guard looking far more likely to win than the enemy. However at 1-0, it wasn't safe and the Mackems didn't let up. Corporal Summerbee made a good run down the right to win a corner, which he subsequently took himself, to the dismay of all in our box. It was cr@p, but the ball somehow managed to find it's way though to Niall Quinn who controlled it well to shoot past Private James, tho' somewhat against the run of play. 1-1 and still five minutes to go. However, no further intrusions were made and both sides limped away from the battleground without suffering any permanent damage.

The Home Guard, under Captain Gregory must have been more disappointed than the enemy, led by Primate Reid. Yet neither set of footsoldiers seemed to care. It was an entertaining game, but the atmosphere was worse than Old Trafford on a bad day - with the exception of "Toon Toon, Black & White Army" coming from the Screacher Division.

The Stealth Astra survived the journey north. Apart from the (very) odd bus, the rest of the Mackems seem to have made the journey in second-hand Nissan Micras. Well, I suppose it's their way of supporting local industry. I prefer wors (wars?). A Bottle o' Dog landlord, please!

-- Anonymous, April 29, 2000


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