Game 8 - Beauchamp Wdrs - 2030
- Thread starter Hazzman
- Start date
- Status
Han
Active Member
Quite excited for this now, bought meself some snazzy new boots
Ponce :icon_lol:
muzzysgal
Active Member
I'm sure swwg will be extremely flattered :icon_biggQuite excited for this now, bought meself some snazzy new boots
Matt_B
Well-Known Member
Aren't they hideous! I'm hoping they will induce vomiting int he opponants!
Melton Fox
Dancing Queen
I think they'll suit you.
drummindefender
Active Member
does't matter what boots you wear you'll still be shite :icon_wink
Matt_B
Well-Known Member
The team took the field, orange boots waiting in the sidelines for their chance to glitter across a flood lit turf, watching Figo turn tricks trying to forge an advance past an oft tight defence, reluctant to concede even a curly haired bredth of space for a shot.
The lead was taken quite by suprised, mugged in the dark alley of the mid half, by the shining TBFC, and was held at bay for long a while as Beauchamp shot fore and aft, testing keeper and woodwork, before the Balls reluctantly conceded a levelling goal.
Not long past a second flew in, forcing those present to question lady fate in such a cruel game.
The second half brought new vim and vigour, a team reborn from the ashes. Taking leads of 3-2, 4-3 and 5-4 it looked as sure as daffodils in spring that Talking Balls would scratch upon their bedpost an all too unfamiliar victory, but waiting, lurking behind the goal posts was Miss Fortune, ready to strike with an equaliser still carrying cumulous from flying so high, and a 6th and 7th counted down within the dying embers of a truely outstanding game, enjoyed by the yawning and cold spectator of Ms PDS and a randon guy, of whom this comentator has no aquantance.
Fair played by gallant gentlemen on a cold February night, won, unfortunately, by the lesser of two teams.
The lead was taken quite by suprised, mugged in the dark alley of the mid half, by the shining TBFC, and was held at bay for long a while as Beauchamp shot fore and aft, testing keeper and woodwork, before the Balls reluctantly conceded a levelling goal.
Not long past a second flew in, forcing those present to question lady fate in such a cruel game.
The second half brought new vim and vigour, a team reborn from the ashes. Taking leads of 3-2, 4-3 and 5-4 it looked as sure as daffodils in spring that Talking Balls would scratch upon their bedpost an all too unfamiliar victory, but waiting, lurking behind the goal posts was Miss Fortune, ready to strike with an equaliser still carrying cumulous from flying so high, and a 6th and 7th counted down within the dying embers of a truely outstanding game, enjoyed by the yawning and cold spectator of Ms PDS and a randon guy, of whom this comentator has no aquantance.
Fair played by gallant gentlemen on a cold February night, won, unfortunately, by the lesser of two teams.
Knew they would lose without us. :icon_wink
fcukcov
Active Member
You werent that confident last night!
Melton Fox
Dancing Queen
Did he turn the light off?
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