Match Report of the Year

Well folks, the votes are in. As voted for by your football writers panel.

It was a close run thing, apart from the AA1 match reports which continue to be poor, year after year. Even though they’ve managed to win the league for the last five years, and last year won 1300 games on the bounce to win the league by a point, putting pen to paper is beyond most of them.

And so it fell to either the AA2 team, on the back of their worst season ever, the AA4 team who shot themselves in the foot and failed to make the Grand Final, or the AA8 team who could beat anyone, except the team that smashed them four times in one season !

The winner is Ben Grant – AA2 v Waverley – reprinted below, just in case you couldn’t be bothered clicking the links above.

“(Disclaimer – please do not contact the club if you are offended by this Match Report – we have amended it as little as possible to keep the humour intact. Enjoy one mans journey into the abyss)


3-1 LOSS (third of the season)

Attendance: 30 fans + 1 Referee + 1 very rich Traffic Warden (C**t)

Now I was confident as anyone when it came to Barnstoneworth winning the AA2 League, undefeated all season, but after this latest loss, it’s time to wake up and smell the coffee – we’re fucked. Also-rans. 2nd at best. Runners up. To be honest I didn’t know how it would affect me, but today, I just feel absolutely deflated.

I can’t get away from these emotions, I just want the whole world to just fuck off and leave me alone. To help me come to terms with this whole mess, I’ve decided to compile a list of everyone and everything I want to fuck off most of all.

For starters, Virgin Atlantic can fuck off. If they think I’m going to be there on time for my flight on Monday morning they’ve got another thing coming. No way am I going to spend time dealing with fellow passenger c***s that I can barely stand being with when I’m in a good mood, let alone this crushing feeling of anger, frustration and outright metaphorical-kicked-in-the-bollocks-ness that the referee has enforced upon me.

Hand fucking ball…!? He picked the fucking ball up! Definite Penalty!

Niall getting sent off for being shit at go karting…!? Bit harsh..but fair.

But the worst part – saying that I scored an OG on my last ever appearance? He can fuck off. I was miles offside……..oh.

Plastic Premier League fans can fuck off. I just spoke to my Manchester United supporting friend (who incidentally, has been to Old Trafford before – once) about Barnstoneworth’s predicament. You know what he said? “I know how you feel; it’s like when we failed to win a trophy in ‘95”. NO IT FUCKING WELL IS NOT!

He no longer has any testicles.

The bird I shagged last Saturday night after my leaving do – can definitely fuck off. Her best attempt at consolation via text message Sunday evening – “I don’t know why you’re bothered; you knew Barnstoneworth have been shít so far, particularly against Maroubra and Bondi”. Yes love, but they’re MY shít team. They’ve been MINE for pretty much as long as I’ve been in Australia, and they’ll be MINE for as long as I’m alive (or at least, until I’m no longer able to wipe my own arse…ETA 18 months). Truth is, playing with my team, and winning does things for me that no woman can. If push comes to shove and I’m horny, I can always have a wank.

Bondi can fuck off. I’ve been all over the Eastern Suburbs and beyond to play for my team, but frankly I just don’t have the stomach to visit any team that makes the 1988 Wimbledon FC “direct football” team look like fucking Brazil, compared to those cheating Russians.

Alan Birchall, you can fuck off. This is your fault. Your idea. You introduced me to Barnstoneworth. “Come with me to Paine Reserve”, you said, “Come and play with the boys”. What could I do? I was fucking new to Sydney, what choice did I have? Why not get me hooked on Heroin whilst you were at it? I could have gone with Ian Rogers shopping for bras and knickers at the Tool Shed, but no, you knew best.

Granted, I’d have probably grown up a homosexual but surely even being simultaneously buggered by four guys named Baker, Mac, Barry and Nealer, couldn’t hurt like this.

Seeing as we’re on the subject of homosexuality, Gok Wan can fuck off. No particular reason, I just plain don’t like the annoying, goggle-eyed c**t.

Some of the Eastern Suburbs Officials can fuck off. Not for supplying us, week-in, week- out, with ***** referee after ***** referee, but for imposing sensible player rules on all clubs in AA2. How many clubs in this division have been deducted points this season for fielding ineligible players? Not one. How the fuck else are we supposed to finish champions – footballing merit?

The Euro Championships can fuck off – I don’t care anymore. Fucking Woy Hodgson? I’m interested to hear his view on the “World Rankings” though.

My local pizza shop can fuck off. I ordered a 12” Stuff crust Hawaiian over an hour ago, and where the fuck is it? Are they trying to peel their own pineapples, and shave the ham off a pigs* back or something?

SBS can fuck off. Nothing personal, but there’ll be little need for me next season to watch that Craig Foster after he stitched me twice. Wanker.

The radio can fuck off. On my way home from the match, whilst driving down Cleveland Street, I caught three completely separate stations playing ‘We are the Champions’ by Queen at the exact same fucking time. The song’s the best part of a hundred years old, how the fuck does that happen by coincidence!?

Dan Taylors** old lucky Buddha that used to sit in his front room can fuck off. When I was a round his house, I held it in my hands and wished for Barnstoneworth to be in the AA1. I meant the proper one you fat c**t, not the one occupied by Redfern Rent boys, Dunbar AA8’s and for fuck’s sake, UNSW reserves, whoever the fuck they are.

Tonight can fuck off. I’ve had enough of trying to cope with my emotions; the time has come for oblivion. I haven’t kept any booze in the House since an occasion known only as ‘That Night’ by a dirty whore, and myself but suffice to say that the toilet duck and luminous blue mouthwash are looking like stronger propositions by the minute.

Most of all though, the last 4 years can fuck off. In that time I’ve watched my team fall from champions of AA3 and AA2 into mid table nothingness. We’ve gone from one great big fuck up to the next without even coming up for air, and today is just the big, fuck off cherry on top, mainly due to the referee.

One thing I’m sure of though is that we WILL be back. When it comes down to it, a football club is basically just a set of players, and frankly what I’ve learned in the last few weeks and years, is that this club has some of the best players I have ever played with. We’ve had to put up with some shít, haven’t we boys, but in spite of all of that the future is still bright – it’s fucking red and white.

Barnstoneworth ‘til I die…

Its been a pleasure over the last 4 years, I have made some great friends, and I look forward to my return sometime in the future. Good luck for the remainder of the season, and a great goal Barry by the way, although I am claiming it.

All the best boys. You can beat every team we have played so far this season. Not one of them is better than us! Onwards and Upwards.

Fondest Desires,

Ben “Tool Shed” Grant

* That Scottish bird I shagged the prior Saturday night (Glebe match)

** Dan Taylor was not at home when I was there holding his Fat Buddah. Special thanks to Mrs. Taylor”