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April 3rd: Turtles 3 (2) - Petone Celtics 0 (0)TURTLES RECEIVE WARNING!!!No, fear not, faithful reader, the warning the Turtles received in the embryonic stage of the new season was not, as you may think, of the footballing nature, like last year (Turtle historians will vividly recall our shocking early season form in '98). This warning was of an entirely more sinister nature. It was a warning that struck at the very heart of the way the FTFC conducts it's business - we were warned about taking the piss ! More about that later, but first - the game. Karori No. 3 was looking an absolute picture under brilliant sunshine, as t'lads gathered. It took a few minutes for everyone to get reacquainted, but soon the old banter was flying once more, as usual centred around hair and waist-lines, and Terry's nocturnal habits. To add the air of familiarity, the oppo were traditional foe, but with an added menace - a supposed ex-national league player. Whilst he was grabbing most of the media attention, for our part we also had a new weapon - Gordi the Scotsman. (We do know that he is Scottish, but that's about all we know, as no-one can understand a word he says). Signed on a free from Falkirk by our ever alert Recruitment Manager Grunter, Gordi had scored five goalS in our pre-season game, but in a captaincy blunder was put in midfield and it didn't suit him. Thankfully, everyone else had good games. Weasel, smarting at the ignominy of being relegated to the back four, responded by getting the first goal. A Wal corner went across to the far corner of the box, and Weasel patted it harmlessly back in. Gordi approached their goalkeeper, and tried to start a conversation. The keeper, seemingly of Eastern Mediterranean origin, hadn't a hope of understanding Gordi, and was both startled and confused as the ball bounced past him and into the net. After that, things settled down. The oppo threatened a bit through their ex-whatever player, but Don did an excellent job of closing him down. Si and Tel snuffed out any threats at the back, and fullbacks, Weasel and the skip, had plenty of time to pass it around. In fact, some of the passing movements were pretty sweet, often involving Terry in the middle. Up front, Nicko was showing the benefits of having played lots of indoor during the summer and less golf, as he was holding the ball and passing back crisply. Our other new boy, Tony G, ex-First Team Keeper and renowned bar-fly, was enjoying not having any gloves on, and especially seemed to enjoy taunting the crap fullback who was marking him. Several times he took his time to set up a shot, but it wasn't until about 25 minutes in that he sorted his target out. After receiving a through ball from the back, Tony ran on to it in space. A more experienced striker may have taken it closer and slipped it gently passed the oncoming keeper, but Tony showed he was new to this by smashing into the top corner from 20 yards. This seemed to deflate the oppo somewhat, and even their ex-um lost a bit of zip. By half-time, things looked rather comfortable, if a little sweaty due to the heat. Spratty came on for Gordi, who trudged away mumbling something about Braveheart, and the back-four was beefed up with Dodge and Bobby. Although now playing downhill, the first action came at Snouters' end. An oppo free-kick was curled over the wall, but the grey fox has seen this so many times before (on telly), and nimbly lurched over to take it easily. Actually, that free-kick was the first of numerous completely incompetent refereeing decisions made by the controlling Pommy Git in this half, but we are certainly not complaining. No, no, no. As the half progressed further, our control tightened on the game, as did Don's new boots on his blisters. For all our control, there weren't all that many clear chances, as the oppo defended in numbers. Tony, Wal, ex-referee Spratty and Phildo (a chip of course) all put difficult chances wide or high. Nicko's running was creating a lot of space for others, and finally this was rewarded. From wide on the right, he attacked the box, and slipped a great ball in to the on-coming Spratty. Unfortunately, when Spratty does move these days, his decrepit little legs do not allow him to stop quickly, so the ball went behind him. The two defenders in close proximity were clearly dazzled by this stunning lack of athleticism, as was the keeper, and they all watched politely as Spratty trotted back to get the ball, and rolled it quietly into the bottom corner. As the heat took it's toll, things slowed a bit after that, and with the result in no doubt, the oppo tried a bit of thuggery. This was, as you can imagine, handled feebly by the ref. Late in the game, two Turtle trademarks - Wal ran from halfway and had his shot brilliantly saved, and Terry collapsed in a heap clutching something. So a great start to the season. Better than last year at least. Anyway, back on that warning thingy (see headline). Apparently the WSA have a new guy at the helm, and he, allegedly, takes a dim view of his association being slagged off, either verbally or in print (which apparently includes Websites). To reiterate this, the Karori Club Newsletter of March '99 mentions heavy fines for the criticism of referees, and bellows "Turtles - you have been warned". The fact that we don't get referees in our grade makes the writer of that newsletter look a complete prat, but, being a rational entity, we decided to take this development seriously, and convened to the Backbencher for a midweek meeting. After the initial laughter had died down, two options were nutted out. The first was the brainchild of Don, vice-captain and a believer in the benefits of violence in most situations. This option involved raiding the WSA offices, and giving all present a jolly good kicking. Option two involved seeking legal advice. After a vote, the latter option was passed, by a slim margin. And so it was that a small delegation was ushered into the sumptuous Bowen Street office of Adrian Wapcaplet, senior partner in the law firm Mousebat, Follicle, Goosecreature, Ampersand, Spong, Wapcaplet, Looseliver, Vendetta and Prang. After hearing our problem, Mr Wapcaplet bend down, adjusted his prosthetic limb and got up out of his vibrating leather chair. He offered us a drink from his private bar. Being serious athletes, we declined the vodka and gin, but accepted his 52 Year Old Scotch. "As I see it", he began, "your problem is one of tone. Your website, rightly lauded the world over for it's technical excellence, statistical genius and smutty overtones, can easily be taken the wrong way by those with a 'different' sense of humour. My advise to you is to either 1/. tone down the level of abuse prevalent in your match reports, where it is possible that the objects of that abuse may take offence, or 2/. really crank it up and see what hits the fan. On a professional level, I suggest you tone things down, but on a personal level I don't give a shit as long as you pay this bill". With that, Mr Wapcaplet handed us an invoice for $526.00, and called security. |
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