On my many travels I have ventured far and wide, traversed many paths and overcome many hills. In the land of Orange (Thy Netherlands) they have cement walls to reverberate the noise, in Kenya the bull bars on the public transport clears the way, in London people throw themselves in front of Tube trains and bounce off them, and in America they have fat people... just lots of fat people. In the honoured principality of Antrim there is a local phenomenon going by the tag of "Bingram". In Nam he did not fight... oh no. He was used as kevlar body armour, strapped round some big lad to take the hit of a 7.62mm going at pace from an AK-47. During Desert Storm he was strapped to Saddam's car windscreen as extra protection from the carpet bombing.
And enough of mentioning Mark! On with the report!
Feetch's team were threading the play like a fine patchwork quilt made from fine stuff which is really quite expensive. Before Piece could say, "who's the new bloke in the Wales shirt", Thierry Henry (TH) was 5-0 up and choking on ahead like an American having not eaten for 7 hours and has just found that there's a happy hour at his local McDee's.
The pace was frenetic... yes frenetic and things were looking ominous at 10-5. F'F'F'FUVENOR "don't mind fuv lad" FUVENOR was slotting them in like a certain Farcly pumping (STEADY) it in to a gaming machine (if I'm wrong I ain't libel). Team TH came back from eating in Sub-Gay and repreaved Mark from his physical abuse to take control again. Hugh "Quick And Simple" I'm talking about football, was putting things together like a legoland castle made in three easy steps with Feetch, Pierre and Mark... no not Mark he was getting hit again at this stage... and F'F'F'FARON using the space available like using it like to score some goals like.
Even Party Piece with his ever present Blue T-Shirt couldn't bring it on like a playa hater in da ghetto wif da mojo. Dee was also tryin to bring it and was def feelin' da flow until you-know-who got in the way. Persistence was outsanding from both teams but Pierre "Pavel Neved" European Player of the Slayers and Faron "Internazionale" Yes Use Their Proper Name, grabbed some goals on the break like IRA men escaping from Maghaberry, aided and abetted by Feetcherson.
In the end, it was a comfortable scoreline like a well fitting pair of bants but the play was never comfortable... indeed it was quite not like a well fitting bair of pants.
Winners (Thierry Henry)
...goes to Bingramish...need i say more...