Sunday, April 01, 2007

From the Ridiculous to the Sublime

It was indeed a fine day for football yesterday, but that was no reason to tempt fate by playing Rolf Harris's Fine Day Cup Final song again, particularly so soon after the debacle that was the cup final. But no that wasn't going to affect us at all to day, despite having that chube Smith in goals yet again because of a Coombe injury. Nope we started spritely indeed and Momo Sylla was dancing down the wing with the ball at his feet putting inch perfect balls into Naismith in the box. The wag behind us remarked 1 minute into the game that Naismith had seen more service than in the entirety of the Cup Final. Truth is we totally dominated the game in the first half and should have had a penalty. Aberdeen were never in it for a moment. Second half started same as the first with Killie very much in the driving seat. Then, unbelievably a defensive header back to keeper turns into farce as Smith, a man known for being rooted to his line actually comes out for a ball only to see it glide unbelievably over his head into the net. Ten minutes later there is a fracas between Sylla and an Aberdeen player which the referee hadn't seen and which only came to his attention because of the crowd reaction to a boot being directed at Sylla. Nevertheless, this clueless idiot decides to award a free kick to Aberdeen from which they score! I promise you it was a fucking travesty, to be 2 goals behind having totally dominated a game where Aberdeen have barely been out of their own half. Finally we get a penalty for a clear hand ball, courtesy of the linesman as eagle-eye Winters hadn't seen it. From thence on in, we pounded the buggers' goalmouth only for our super talented striker Nish to waste every sitter that came his way. Fine Day my arse, we gubbed them 1 - 2.

I find it incredible to believe that Aberdeen are where they are in the league if this is what they are capable of. Bitter as I am I feel I must share a particularly poor joke about the good burghers of that city.

A research student was studying sheep shagging across the rural sheep farming areas of the UK. She first visited Wales and discovered that the most common approach to sheep shagging seemed to be where the sheep's front legs were put over a fence, and the back legs were thrust into the front of the shagger's wellington boots and from there the business so to speak was gone about. She then went to Devon and a local farmer explained that he would get his wellingtons on, take the sheep's front legs and put them over a dry stone wall and then tuck the back legs into his wellies and a jolly good time he'd have. Next stop was Yorkshire where she spoke to a number of folk all of whom stated their preference for the sheep's front legs being hung over a hedge whilst the back legs get stuck down the front of their wellingtons. She then went to Aberdeen and spoke to the area's leading sheep shagger who said that in Aberdeen, they usually would tuck the sheep's rear legs into the front of their wellies and then put the animal's front legs over their shoulders. The researcher found this very interesting and explained to the farmer that all over the UK sheep shaggers more or less used the same technique except here in Aberdeen. Ah he replied, we used to do it that way as well, but we found out we were missing out on all the good kissing. That's one for the Sheep Shagging Bastards.

And a dash straight from the football for a night at the opera where at the Theatre Royal we were going to be seeing Madama Butterfly. We had very little time to get something to eat before the performance, so we popped into a little Italian place in Cambridge Street, Fazzi's, famous apparently for first bringing Italian foodstuffs to Scotland in the 1940s. Food was okay but they got the order wrong and brought us tuna and pasta rather than chicken and pasta, but we didn't have time to complain and then the waitress forgot our espressos so not tip, sorry. We were though entertained in a way that only Glasgow on a Saturday evening can. Nope I don't mean the opera, we were still in Fazzi's looking out of the window at Elvis working his way slowly up the street serenading passers by, complete with quiff, sideburns and drainpipes. I kid you not, slightly pished he grabbed onto a pole to guide him towards the chip shop opposite us and indeed a few minutes later there was a man in the chip shop who looked like Elvis. It was priceless and I wished I'd had my camera with me.

Onto the opera. Most excellent it was and tempted as I was I didn't boo the baddie , well not until the curtain call anyway. All in all a superb evening.

Labels: Gigs, Kilmarnock keeper Smith is a chube

posted by timesnewroman at 9:12 AM  

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