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Future Fury: June 2005
Future Fury
Friday, June 10, 2005
 
Aha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha...
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!

No, I have not just watched the highlights of Evs warming up before the game, seen Marton playing knee keepy uppy at half time or even slapped in Cowan’s DVD of him Snowboard in ‘nowt but a thong.’ I am simply reminiscing about last nights ‘action.’

In a feeble attempt to mask the truth, I shall be using code names from now on, ok? Evs will be Mr E and that old bird he snogged down the Waterman’s will be Mrs Saggy baps av’ some come ere’ darling you love it.

Again…

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!

There are some moments in sporting life that will live on in our hearts and minds forever.

Keegan ranting about how much he loves Ferguson (or something like that,) Big Ron throwing off his headphones after getting shirty with Keys after a post match Sky interview and Evs’ face after last night! Sorry, Mr E’s face after he had got it on with some old bird who clearly has not had any since HT last scored! Absolute comedy!

Onto the action.

Fury knew they needed some points from this weeks games. A previous tally of 3 form 6 had seen the former champions sat bottom of the table. A position my father always said was the one filled by the strongest team of the league, as they had to hold everyone else up. Thanks Dad.

Facing Loughton, Fury knew they were in for a battling game of hard tackles and aggressive fouls. Something most of our team excel at. Apart from Marton who is far too nice.

Early blows were exchanged, but Future were looking strong and peppered the Loughton goal with some fine early chances.

The defence was looking better than it ever, with Smithy fouling like days of old in the midfield and Evs and Marton getting some fine blocks and tackles in.

Ginger Nuts was sent through by Dalts who was impressing in the midfield. The ginger warrior only had the keeper to beat from 8 yards and pulled back his lanky right boot only to be upended in a very unceremonious fashion and land 5 feet away on a crumpled ginger heap of ‘Oh for fucks sake ref!’

The offending player walked away smirking something about inferior genes and was allowed to play on rather controversially. Obviously we wasted the free kick with some fancy Dan routine but all was not lost.

Second half with the opposite GK checking the nets behind the goal, Evs slotted home from 10 yards in cool style. Early opinions were that is was an ‘alright’ goal, keeper was rubbish though, later analysis revealed it was rubbish and anyone could of scored and we were just relieved the lusty Welshman had not blasted over into the Howard Malone Stand, citing some shit about differently inflated bladders.

1-0 and the fury fires were lit. Every tackle was won, or the other guy got booted, either way, it was a cracking game to play in and win…

Unfortunately, the otherwise excellent ref then played a controversial advantage from a high ball that the Fury players had stopped playing for and were left exposed to a quick shot and equalising goal.

Evs later explained he was not caught off guard and was simply in a terrible position.

1-1 but a solid point had been won.

Marton had to come off late on after being mounted by Loughton’s hairiest sub, and looked a little upset with the unwanted intrusion. Questions were asked. Our best wishes go out to you Marton.

Onto Athletico who lets face it, really are crap, but they did us last week, as we could not finish for toffee. Or any sweat come to think of it, but fortunately Gammy was away this week and we decided to score goals this time round, rather that cock up the whole season with strikes that resembled the increasingly dull Fire strikes of last summer in that they went well wide of the mark and pissed off everyone who had to see them! (Only kidding Gammy!)

So Smithy put one home with a delicate outside of the boot job. We played rubbish but beat them. Job done.

Quote of the week: Jim to Dalts and HT – “I am not sure if it is the defence’s fault this season, we have played well and I think it is more the chances we are missing the other end of the pitch.”

HT to Jim – “Well we have let in more goals than anyone else Jim. If you look at the league.”

Man of the Match – James Evans for so many reasons! Last of all his goal.
Friday, June 03, 2005
 
“EASY. EASY. EASY. EASY … “
Struggling for position like Mark Cowan on a gay jaunt around a soap factory, Future Fury’s downward spiral embraced previously untapped proportions of uselessness on Thursday night as Clueless Cohen led his troops to back-to-back league defeats.

The Laser Blue Losers now sit bottom of the Premiership, grasping pathetically at any crumb of comfort having mustered up the firepower of tatty water pistol.

Displaying all the tactical nous of a scrotum, Cohen drummed his troops up beforehand by previewing two must-win games against Athletico North Trust, officially the worst team in the league.

Imagine how we laughed then as perennial champions Wharf Boys strode onto the Island Gardens playing surface, greased limbs shimmering like metallic beacons in the dappled early evening sunlight.

“Aah bollocks, what the blazers are them lot doing here?” came the shout from a confused Fury member.

Looking to Ginger Nuts for an answer, the usual blank pug-faced, shrugged shouldered expression came back, and like it or not the Fury were in for a roasting.

The first-half was an even affair though; Dalton operating as a midfield lynchpin (he was meant to be a striker, but more of that later); Cowan operating as a midfield battle ram (he was meant to be a footballer); and Saul operating as a pacy winger (he was meant to be at home watching Neighbours).

Goalless at the interval, goalkeeper Sid announced he was in the zone, “just call me Jerzy” came the cry from the balding warrior, “I’m staying in nets goddam you, mofo’s”.

Predictably then, within two minutes of the restart, Wharf Boys’ leggy streak of urine strode through, brushing off the attentions of Marton and his seven knees, to stab the opener into the far corner.

Elastic-limbed Cohen began the fightback, timewasting nicely in the corner, and as Dalts became even more frustrated at the lack of openings in the final third, Gammy added to the pressure by ballooning over when it looked easier to score.

Streaky plundered a second in the dying seconds and Fury had it all to do in the second match. Surely they couldn’t lose this one as well?You bet your life they fokkin could.

To sum up opponents Athletic North Trust prior to kick-off. This bunch of misfits are the sweaty scabby pimple on the tanned arse of football’s HFS Loans League. They are a festering pustule of phlegm, delivered from the throat of an unkempt gypsy whose last wash was involuntarily brought when flicking through the TV times and stumbling across a picture of Vanessa Feltz in a poolside fashion shoot. So then …

Athletic North Trust 2-0 Future Fury

That hardly painted the picture though. Gammy went through early on and ballooned over when it looked easier to score, Dalts ran just short of a marathon around the penalty box without once having a pop, Cowan – seemingly on drugs again for much of the night - started a small earth tremor in Malawi with a canon off of the goalpost, while Saul, Cohen and even Marton also punted at goal.

Sometimes, that’s the way the cookie crumbles. Sometimes, the Gods aren’t smiling.

Sometimes, Gammy balloons it when it looks easier to score.

Sometimes, the referee is a cunt. Infact, that’s most of the time … if not all of the time.

Sometimes, great teams get relegated. Think … Norwich, Palace, Southampton, and Leigh RMI.

As Uri Geller once muttered, “draw strength from weakness” – analyse all that your opponents can’t do, then force them to do it. His other motto was “anybody got a spare key”, but that’s irrelevant.

Just remember though troops, it could always be worse. Blackburn once had a footballer called Simon Stainrod who once came up against Luton midfielder Ashley Grimes. I’ll leave the rest for your imagination. If your brain can’t stretch that far, Cowan has photos …

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