May 29nd:
Turtles 5 (3) - North Wellington 1 (1)
By Dominic "NZ Idol" Bowden
Hello and welcome to Alex Moore Park in Johnsonville. I'm Dominic Bowden and
this is the first annual Turtle Idol (technical assistants hold up cards and the
crowd goes wild on cue).
Here today at this fabulous venue are 15
Turtles vying for the coveted title of the first ever Turtle Idol. And watching
along with you many thousands at home are a live audience of eight hundred
(technical assistants hold up cards and the crowd goes berserk). We've devised
this show to give their opponents today in Masters Div 2 a bit of chance.
There's been a bit of grumbling recently about how the Turtles are just a bit
good for the grade this year, and I'm here to even things out a bit.
Here's how it is going to go: I'll ponce
around in front of the camera for a while, showing off my tight trousers, then
the players will come out onto the park. The game will get under way, and you at
home can text in at any time to vote for whom you want eliminated. Here's the
numbers now on your screen - 0900 TURT01, for Snout in goal, through to 0900
TURT15, for his brother, Grunt the manager. Every six minutes the action will be
stopped and we'll collate the results at that time. I'll then gather the Turtles
in the middle for an emotional group hug before announcing, at a rate of one
syllable a minute, the unlucky player to be eliminated.
The final elimination will take place at
the final whistle. We'll then know who is Turtle Idol 2004, with all the
prestige and prizes that brings.
And speaking of prizes, here's Nicky
Watson in a tight t-shirt to let us know what the winner today will get.
Thanks Dominic, and aren't my tits
looking good today. Yes, today's winner will be showered with gifts, starting
with a half hour shower with me and Pippi P. Star, during which, among other
things, the lucky Turtle will be presented with a laminated cheque for one
million dollars. Then it'll be off to EMI Records to cut a single with The Finn
Brothers. And finally down to the airport to board Donald Trump's private Lear
jet for a quick flight to New York, where this lucky Turtle will start work on
Monday as CEO of Trump Properties.
Great, thanks Nicky. If I didn't like
blokes then I might find you attractive. But never mind, on with the show, and
here come the players out on to the field now. My god they look fit - these
leather trousers are straining to contain my excitement.
Their opponents today are, well, who
cares really. The day is sunny but blustery, and the Turtles kick-off into the
strong northerly wind.
There is plenty of rush and bustle by
their opponents, and an early off-side call there is close enough to upset their
big, bald, stupid looking forward. We can see Dodger engaging the guy in some
good-natured banter, and that's what the crowd likes to see - two intellectual
giants matching wits. But what have we here - the fat twat in the oppo gets the
upper hand by opening the scoring. Telboy had the ball on around half-way, and
squared to Stevie H, who may or may not have called for the pass. The intercept
was carried away towards goal, and finished cleanly from outside the area, past
an immobile Snouter into the top corner. I've caught up with the portly
custodian as he collects the ball - why didn't you dive, Snout?
It was going in, so why bother.
Wise words from the flabby gloveman. And
that brings us to the six-minute mark, and the first elimination.
We'll cut off your text votes now, and
here’s Nicky with the results, courtesy of those wonderful people at Telecom.
Thanks darling. Now lads gather round. Well, the nation has spoken, and I'm
afraid to say that.......Grunter, who hasn't even turned up yet, has been
eliminated.
When Grunter does arrive, he'll just
have to pop into the changing rooms over there where Nicky will present him with
his consolation prize, a topless hand-shandy.
So the action restarts with the Turtles
kicking off, one-nil down. With Gordie resting on the side-line after a hard
round of golf, there just doesn't seem to be a goal coming. PK and new boy Mike
are battling earnestly up front, but there isn't much happening wide. Chris is
tidying and harrying in midfield, but against the wind there isn't much forward
momentum as yet.
And doesn't time fly - it's time for the
second elimination. And, well, there's a turn up for the books, I'm afraid to
say that.......GT, you are eliminated, and Nicky here will pull you off. A tough
and maybe slightly xenophobic call by our viewers there.
The game continues, and the Turtles seem
to be getting into it a bit more. Weasel and Wal are making progress down the
flanks, and we can see Telboy making a bit of forward progress from the back. It
seems that there may be a Turtle goal soon, but it'll have to wait, because here
comes elimination number three.
Thanks Nicky. And once again the nation
has spoken, and this time, being eliminated is.... Stevie H. A crushing blow for
the ailing ginger, who has got off his sick bed for this his 200th games in the
Turtle colours.
But there's no time for sentiment, as
the Turtles have just drawn level. Weasel found space in the middle and measured
a perfect curling through ball into the path of a rampaging Wal, who slides in a
clinical finish across the keeper into the far bottom corner.
With Gordie now ensconced up front,
there is more control about the Turtle play. But wait, here is another oppo
break, and Snouter is called on to make a good save from the fat twat oppo
forward. The resulting corner will just have to wait whilst the next elimination
results are announced. And here we are, thanks Nicky. And heading for the
changing rooms with his cock out this time is....Snouter. Well, that's a tough
call by the viewing public, forcing the Turtles to play the rest of the match
without a keeper, but it's a cut-throat business we're in here.
Tel clears the corner, and the Turtles
are away again. The play is looking good now, except for when the wind and
skiddy surface make for a tough control. A lot more ball is getting into the
oppo box, and what's going on here. Oh, a bit of pin-ball in the box and it
falls to Gordie. He cleans up the play by gathering the ball with his back to
goal, turns and shoots low into the bottom corner. Two-one to the Turtles. Muted
celebrations from the prolific haggis-muncher, as he pulls one closer to
Spratty's all time record.
But there's no time for statistics now,
as here comes Nicky with another envelope. She certainly a busy girl this
afternoon - just hope her wrist holds out. And lads, here it is, the next player
to leave the game is....Weasel. Well another shock there, as the left-sided
play-maker is sent away for a bit of left-handed action by our lovely Nicky.
But he's not missed. Chris has been
bossing the midfield, and now surges forward into a gap. The goal beckons, so he
tries a shot, but it turns into a bit of a feeble back-pass. And now Dodger, of
all people, is pushing forward, and sends a ball out to Wal on the right. His
cross causes some chaos, and after a bit of fumbling it goes out to Pk on the
left, close to goal. He shows great presence of mind to tap a short ball inside
to Gordie, who side-foots it home from close range. Three-one.
I think we can all see that the Turtles
have this one well under control now, but their diminishing numbers could well
prove troublesome later on. And speaking of which, here comes Nicky with another
result. Wait for it lads, this time.......Muzza is off. This will seriously dent
the Turtles midfield control, but that's the sort of thing we want to see - can
this team triumph over adversity. Actually, I've got a few more cliches here, so
just stay with me...........
.....and then we'll really see the cat
among the pigeons. Which brings me to another elimination. And here we
have.......Wal, off you go bud.
Wal there perhaps paying the penalty for
installing Pippi P. Star as patron last week without the permission of the
chairman. The public just won't tolerate that sort of anarchy.
The remaining Turtles are now struggling
a bit, what with the wind still gusting in their faces. Tel and Dodge are
getting increasingly busy, Tel clearing headers and Dodge abusing the oppo's fat
twat forward.
It's no surprise to see some pressure at
the back. A high bouncing ball looks like it may come down for a shooting
chance, but Chris, reffing, blows for half-time just as the ball is in mid-air
and the forward has his leg back ready for the shot. A lucky break there.
Now, as a half-time treat, whilst the
remaining players tuck into their Naval Orange, let's take a look back and see
how the Turtles prepared for this match. Here they are visiting a school for
sick, handicapped kids in Tawa, and you can just see the caring natures of these
heroic people, as they hand out signed T-Shirts and caps. And here they are
later that night visiting an establishment for sick and handicapped adults. Just
look at how gently the lads are bouncing those happy young girls on their knees.
Up and down, and oh, that one is stuck. Oh dear, cut.
Back here at Alex Moore the second half
is under way. With the wind now the Turtles are looking a bit more assured,
although having only eight players now is creating a few gaps. The oppo are
still feisty, but definitely tiring. And here comes Nicky, who is definitely not
tiring, jiggling over with the next elimination result. And lads, I'm sorry to
say that the next one up for the consolation prize is....... Chris Lavis (rhymes
with Davis). Tough luck there, but that was a very curious piece of reffing
earlier.
The attacks now by both sides are pretty
random. PK is caught off-side, and then a minute later Dodge has to rush across
to sweep up a worrying run by an oppo twat. Gordie is quiet, and is starting to
get nervous about the oppo's lunatic No. 4, whose picnic appears short of any
sort of food at all. But here comes Nicky again. How is it going for you Nicky,
I know you're doing a great job, but are you having fun?
Oh yea, Dom, I love all this. The
attention, the fans, the technology, and glad-handling those consolation prizes
is just the frosting on top. Here's the next result.
Thanks Nicky. We're really getting down
to the business end now folks, and the next to leave is....Mike. Bad luck there
for the new boy.
Down to six now, we have Oscar doing
sterling work in midfield, he's everywhere, and spreads it wide to PK, who feeds
Gordie in the box. The big mon collects and turns in the box and has his
trailing foot caught by a defender. Mike, reffing now, is a former top level
ref, and has no hesitation in giving the pen. Snout shouts from the back, and to
everyone surprise Dodger is given the job. He hits it solidly to the keepers
left, and it goes in for Dodger's first goal in something like 80 games. Dodger
celebrates with a clenched fist, and a stream of abuse for the oppo's fat twat
forward.
A bit more bustle, and a few more
wayward shots, and it's that time again. The nation have once again spoken, and
this time heading for executive relief is.....Oscar.
You can see now the battle the remaining
five have on their hands. Boy is making last ditch tackles all over the place,
and Telboy is struggling. And look at that surge up the right towards the
Turtle's keeper-less goal. Surely this will be a goal, but no, a pathetic shot
goes out for a corner. And Tel clears that easily. Now down the other end Gordie
has time outside the box, but curls one just wide.
And here she is again. No time to get
your t-shirt back on this time I see. Thanks. And lads, gather round. The next
to go is......Tel.
More aimless action. But wait, a hopeful
ball down the right is chased by the ever-vigilant PK. He traps it just short of
going over the line, and as a defender attempts a tackle, PK blocks through
that, and is then free to come back towards goal. Faced with two more defenders,
PK taps it between them, and with a surge is through and clear. His finish is
deft across the keeper, and in his exhilaration he pumps the air and rushes
away, somewhat embarrassingly.
Fabulous stuff, and the oppo look
deflated. Boy goes forward and from the left flank hits in a cross that the wind
makes into a dangerous shot. The keeper makes a miraculous save diving backward,
and Gordie's attempt at the rebound goes clear off the post. The Turtles 2-1-1
formation is holding nicely now, but that won't last, as here comes Nicky again,
just wearing a scarf and a leather posing pouch now. And the next to go
is......Boy. Excellent effort from the lanky part-timer to get this far, but we
are now down to the last three.
Gordie is now holding the ball for long
periods on his own, and kicking it away for a goal kick each time the mad No. 4
approaches him with his nostrils bleeding. PK is bossing the midfield, and
Dodge is still dishing out high velocity abuse at the back. Surely this 5-1
score-line can't hold, but it looks like a bit of a stalemate. Well here she is
with our penultimate vote, our callused heroine. And lads, going to the final
two will not be.....Gordie.
So here we have it. The last two - PK
and Dodge. They'll have to play out the last 12 minutes alone, the true test to
find the worthy winner. It's desperate stuff, as they pack the defence, then
spring out on the break. PK is twisting and turning, and Dodger is still dishing
out the insults. Amazing stuff. Surely they can't hold out.
But there it is, the final whistle. Come
over here guys.
Well New Zealand, it
comes down to this. Dodge and PK are the last two Turtles left on the field, and
your votes will determine who will be crowned Turtle Idol 2004. Well Dodge, you
had a shocker really, but somehow avoided elimination up to this point. And PK,
your play today was excellent, but you just never know. And here is Nicky with
the final vote count. Thanks Nicky, and go and get that shower running. OK, here
it is, nice hug now. And the winner is...wait for it, wait for it. Oh I just
can't stand the suspense, but we're just going to go to a commercial break, so
we'll be back in just a minute.
For fuck sake Bowden,
get on with it, it’s fucken freezing out here.
Sorry, just kidding.
And the winner is.....
Scene: The Bathroom,
The Penthouse Suite, Trump Tower, New York City, three days later. Two promising
junior executives, Alecia and Alexis, recline back in the enormous sunken bath
and wait. From behind a side door there is the unmistakable sound of a
satisfying dump being finished off, "hhhhhrrrrrmmmmmmooohohoho", and a few
minutes later Dodger staggers through the door swigging on a magnum of Bolli.
Bugger
me, even the bog roll has his name on it. Right, who's first for their
performance appraisal?
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