* * * The FOXTROT REPORT * * *

NORWICH CITY 1 STOKE CITY 0

I've no idea what happened in this game as I didn't go. Before anyone asks, I don't know what they do in training, either. Instead, I'll comment on a game I did go to.

MY LOT: SOME INDETERMINATE NUMBER OF GOALS
THEIR LOT: ANOTHER, PROBABLY LESSER INDETERMINATE NUMBER OF GOALS

(MY LOT WIN ON "NEXT GOAL WINS")

A fine game of improptu jumpers-for-goalposts football was conducted in Preston Park today by me and a load of my mates, and none of you lazy, good-for-nothing stay-at-homes who cried off with excuses like, "I've got a mouth abcess" and "I don't live in Brighton" and "Who are you, you pretentious little bollocks?"

The teams, playing in the Clock Tower end of the park that hosts the annual Gay Pride and Bisexual Shame festival, lined up as follows:

MY LOT:
Me ("If my lot win this game, it'll be down to me")
Someone whose name I didn't know, but supported West Ham
Arsenal shirt
Ben
Declan (I think - nobody knew him, he was Arsenal Shirt's mate)

THEIR LOT
Si
Tommy (who has sadly shaved off his Filippo Marinetti-esque moustache)
Mike (in Hawaiian shorts)
Jed
John (in an old Charlton Athletic kit)
Someone in a white shirt whose name I forgot to ask

The game kicked off, the shapeless melee illustrating why professional football games are played on full-size pitches with 11 players on each team, who have met before, wearing matching, distinct kits.

My Lot's attempt at Total Football initially floundered without any guidance, and I - playing in my 1994-1995 Norwich kit with BROWNRIGG 12 on the back - struggled to make an impact on the game, despite proudly declaring I'd be the best player by a country mile before it kicked off.

To cover for this, I turned round to my team-mates and said, "Oh, have we started?" when I spaffed yet another virtually open goal.

Mike missed an open goal too, putting it well over the bar, and turned round and said "Ronny Rosenthal", to which I replied, "Don't be harsh ... Rosenthal hit the bar".

Some sturdy defending by West Ham Fan, creative midfield play by Arsenal Shirt and incisive attacking by Ben and myself meant that after conceding the first goal, My Lot went 3-1 up, holding the opposition to long shots that were, quite frankly, w**ktacular.

The game was interrupted a few times, but even men with steel hearts love to see a dog on the pitch, and the several mangy mutts were not kicked but loved, especially when they showed a genuine fervour for the game not seen since Wor Jackie Milburn retired.

Arsenal Shirt managed to distract the dog with a frisbee and the game resumed, with the teams being mixed up after an hour's play put My Lot 5-2. (I got one goal and one assist, I didn't keep track of anyone else's performance. I mean, really, who gives a f**k?)

So the teams were re-jigged after the initial selection mechanism of "Who's got black shorts?" proved to be rubbish. So other team-choosing methods such as "Any Librans?" were discarded, and Si and Declan were appointed captains of the teams that were to become My Lot and Their Lot.

The second game, with the scores starting at 0-0, was largely pointless, as nobody really bothered keeping score. A new player, a grown man in an entire Chelsea kit, joined their lot. God knows who he was, but he wasn't bad.

Everyone got knackered having been out on the razz the night before and decided to call it a day when West Ham Fan left to watch West Ham down the pub, although after a short slanging match it was decided to make it Next Goal Wins. A couple of saves from me (having decided to go in goal because I was tired) kept us in it before Ben broke through and scored to help My Lot secure the greatest victory in their 112-minute history.

Next Saturday at Preston Park by the Clock Tower if you fancy it. You can all be on My Lot.

All hail Andrew Brownrigg!

Posted By: Ottosson Foxtrot, Mar 17, 19:02:15