BADGERS HELTER SHELTER
BLUE BADGERS (2) 2 BUS SHELTER (0) 0
Rayner 20, Newsome 35
Thwack, down goes the Panther. Twick, down goes the Rapson. Push, shove, niggle, needle, priggle, creedle. No one could quite believe the constant stream of fouls dished out by a collection of Irish yobs to the Badgers frontmen, especially, so it seemed, Fisher the Ref who gave the boys in blue no protection whatsoever. It was a travesty made that bit worse that it occurred before an adoring record breaking crowd of three: the bodyguard Wade minding the two supermodels, one in sunglasses one in a lionskin, both currently dating top Badgers, both glamour queens naturally. Badgers only get the best.
With the exception of the ref.
The referee, in his black outfit, with his whistle and his watch. His task? Protect the innocent and the needy. His pay? �20. Easy? You'd think so. But oh no. Let's look at the poor paymaster Panther's body Sunday morning, (form a queue girls, no not all at once, no you can't touch, get off, if you want to do that pay like the rest of them). His torso, a kaleidoscope of bruises; his legs bleeding, scabs hanging down like fruitbats; his big toe, broken. Yes, broken like the hearts of his adoring fans.
How did the toe go? How did the larger digit lose its ability to fidget?
It was a scene so familiar at the Theatre of Screams. A ball artistically played over the top into space and the Panther's off; racing forward chasing the ball like it was the last gazelle on earth. Outpacing one, two defenders running thirty, forty yards taking the ball in his stride storming forward still accelerating, reaches the edge of the box, only the keeper to beat. You'd place your mortgage on him getting the goal; you'd want no other there (given Batistuta's current injury) but a violent shove in the back from their tubby destroyer Matt Cornish and the Panther's down. Criminal. Fisher gives the foul, bollocks the wrong man (Billy, Billy don't be a hero face up to it you're a zero), but no card when red should've been above his 'ed. The Badgers replied, as only they know how.
With Class. With Guts.
And with a goal that gets my vote for goal of the season (given that you can't vote for your own). A ball over from the left from the ever-dazzling Davis goes beyond the goal for what looks like a goalkick. But oh no, lurking ten yards from the far post is a certain Tiger Tony Rayner who connects with a volley. If the ball had a mouth it would've screamed in agony at the power of the shot and would've pleaded to stay in the net where it had been buried from angle so acute it made Van Basten's Euro Final goal look like a sitter.
It was glorious.
A glority capped with another gem of a goal. Davis swung over another great corner. Newsome rose, 'Steve's Ball' echoed around the ears of the lesser mortals trying to stop the Stevie Steam Train. A full twenty yards out, the Leeds Leader, The Hip Skip headed the ball past the stranded keeper.
The second half saw the Badger's close up shop with Kings Head Alan confidently keeping yet another clean sheet. The Badgers were content to contain and torment the Irish navvies � none more so then the youngster sub White who showed some flashes brilliance in his flashy brillianto blue boots but he still hasn't done the infamous Whitey dragback. C'mon Whitey.
So 2-0 it ended and the crowd cheered and the team leaped up and down in celebration.
But the Panther hobbled.
And a dark shadow descended onto the world of international football.
20.3.99 Team
1 Kings Head Alan Keeper
2 Glyn Ashman Right Back
5 Mark Bourgeois Centre Back
6 Lee McDonald Centre Back
3 Ben Brocklehurst Left Back
4 Steve Newsome Right Midfield
7 Tony Rayner Central Midfield
11 Jon Kelly Right Midfield (subbed for White 60)
8 Rob Davis Left Midfield
10 Matt Brocklehurst Striker
9 Sion Rapson Striker
12 Ian White On for Kelly (60)
* Let's pray he does not read this, as it could be Panther burgers being sold at Hackney.
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