As I sat in the penthouse in the Hilton hotel in down-town Bangkok, surrounded by a string of beauties massaging me and feeding me grapes, the phone rang. It was a voice I never wanted to hear, a voice that always barked my name, a voice that always blamed me for his fuck ups on the field , it was BUFC club chairman Sean. I paused for a second thinking about hanging up or telling him to pick his silver medal back out of the bin and shove it up his arse, I bit my lip, took a swig of whiskey and hoovered two of the best lines of pure snow Bangkok had ever seen straight up my narrow small nose.
Sean rambled on about how much he missed me in the finals, how things could of been so different had i been in the no.44 jersey, how Ronan and Danny’s form and confidence had plummeted since i left. “Headless chickens” was how he described them, they were making left fulls like John Murray into strikers!, it was shocking for my small ears to take, he had told me how Billy and his son Hartley had been in direct contact with immigration awaiting my visa outcome. Billy had even begged Hartley to come training prior to the finals to try and boost moral after my departure but Paul didn’t go training he turned up Friday night him and Trigger had a kick-about on their own.
I stopped Sean in his tracks and asked him what does he want from me, he was aware my visa was granted and the offers of club contracts were coming in every direction for me, in fact the Hilton had put 6 phones in my room i was that busy. Sean promised me a Qantas plane was fully fuelled and waiting on the runway in Bangkok airport. After a few more sniffs and hours of arguing we cut a deal, my wages would be 300 a week, big john the captain would have to go, his training and team talks were on a par with Gavs runs from midfield into the box, they took far too long made no sense at all, and were boring as fuck. Next for the chopping board would be (who got the gear Jonesy), Jonesy’s throws all season were like Anto Dooleys headers, woeful, and schoolboy league stuff, both players have the same system close your eyes and hope for the best.
Sean went on to tell me how upset billy was after coming so close to lifting to trophy in the final after all the hard work the Scotsman put in all season to get us to the finals, he felt the boys bottled the final and that they were happy with a silver medal, i couldn’t make sense of it,every game i play is do or die for me it’s a must win. Then a strange thing happened, I started to warm to Seans thinking for once we were getting on, we even shared a laugh during our talks but we both know that wouldn’t last a whole season. If I was to come back and take BUFC to the top, to give Billy the trophy he deserves b4 he retires next season, to boost the players form, to take this pub team into the spotlight, and to glory, one of us would have to leave not just the team but Sydney altogether. Sean agreed to step down in order for the team to press on it was welcomed with cheers and claps by all the players and the lounge girls in the Coach he had harassed over the years. I was thinking the North Pole for Sean but the club settled for Perth .
I boarded the plane a bit worse for wear, i knew the holiday was over, i headed for Sydney with one thing on my mind, making sure i lifted the trophy on grand final day, there can be no mistakes this year no fucking around. BUFClogo states “Tough Fighting Unit”, and it’s my job to prove it!. The Stallion was back and rearing to go……………………………………………
Sunday 21st April, game three for BUFC against Queens Park. It was easily 25 degrees on the day, the pitch was gleaming, the sun beamed directly onto the green where i had caused havoc against so many teams the season previous. The nets were up awaiting my arrival, i bungled friar tuck (Darren Dooley) out of the boot of my car, he was stinking of cheap booze and various mens aftershave, a night in the columbian can leave that odour… 15 men and Daz turned up, making it hard for billy to pick this team, the battle for places this year is tough.
Ricky said he would play in goal with Marcel if it gets any worse and when he came on he stuck to his word, Billy picked the 4-4-2 formation, both my ears were open as Billy shouted in goal Marcel, back 4, Rabbiii an Foxy, Allister and Hartley, then to midfield, leftside Numpty, right side Anto Dooley and centre Big Gav and i think his name is Nigel, big guy no hair, we will call him (Kojak) and up front Ronan and Danny our top goalscorer with 8 goals last season (wow), myself ,Friar Tuck, Bruiser, Ricky and Liam, a ringer for John Boy out of love-hate, all on the bench,
The ref and linesmen were all wearing stab vests and protective clothing after hearing about Ronans drunken assault on a 17 year old linesman the previous week. Tensions were high and as a precaution i slipped two Zanex into Ronans water bottle b4 kickoff to calm the angry Welsh man down. Bruiser supplied a straight-jacket in case things got messy.
The whistle blew and the game was off, from the start, the ball was up and down the field, hoof here and hoofing it there, it was a messy start. There was some good work by Big Gav in midfield and chemical brother Anton on the right, the back 4 were holding their shape and Marcel was reading the Sunday Telegraph. To be fair to Queens Park they had 3 good players, their 6 foot midfielder, Chunk up front, and our Numpty who gave them the ball more times than Allister checked his makeup while defending their corners. After either Ronan or Danny lost the ball Queens Park broke down the middle of the field bursting straight through Kojak and Big Gav and passing the ball to Chunk. Chunk was like a double decker bus reversing in a cul de sac, awkward as fuck , and allowed Allister to get a 6 min sunbed in before Chunk finally turned, skipped past Rabbi and Foxy and cooly slotted past Marcel. You could hear a pin drop and the flint in Billy’s lighter click to spark his 12th smoke in the first 20 mins of the game, it was unnecessary pressure brought on by BUFC, 1-0 down.
BUFC started applying pressure, somebody got taken down, i think Ronan or it was a dive, we got a peno, Hartley stepped up, just b4 the peno was taken, Ronan like clockwork came off with an injury or sun stroke, nobody gave a fuck. It was time for a change, Gav was off and JohnBoy (Liam) on. Hartley stepped up to level things, and fired straight at the keeper, it was woeful, peno missed, but it was still the first half and the Stallion was back and he was very hungry. The Stallion and Liam stepped up with some good work causing mayhem when on the ball. Kojak at times could of been mistaken for the council gardener in midfield, at one stage i could of sworn he was hosing down the centre circle in the intense heat. In what can only be described as a sloppy first half we were lucky to get an own goal after a cross on the right from Anton was headed in by a defender who Dan was supposed to be pressuring to score, 1-1.
The half time talk was the usual bollox from all past and present centre halves in BUFC, blaming the forwards for everything, think about it guys, Chunk beat 4 of you and Marcel come on have a day off……….the second half started and BUFC were all over Queens Park.
I thought it was going to come good, we were going to slaughter this average team, Johnboy was skipping around players knocking the ball around with great skill, Kojak was coming into the game with great runs, Gavin was in second gear (slow) and Friar Tuck was like a hippo in a mud bath happy as shit. Ronan and Danny were actually smiling at each other and one stage they were even holding hands during corners, Queens park got a goal 2-1. The heads dropped, mine didn’t, i knew I’d have to earn my wages this week it was going to take something special to lift this squad to turn this game around…
With 20 min to go and BUFC applying pressure mainly coming from the Stallion and Johnboy the ball dropped around 33 yards out, in between two queens park defenders the ball barely had time to bounce, when the stallion burst out of nowhere and cut straight through the two defenders heading the ball into position and striking the ball with such force and back spin, it ripped through the air and into the top corner bursting the net, the ball bounced back out, as if to tease the Stallion to take it again… It was jaw dropping, even Billys smoke got stuck to his lip as his jaw dropped, the cheers were deafening, the Stallion trotted off as if it was just another day at the stables for him………………….2-2
After a goal like that it should of being enough for any team to go on and win ,the keeper was still shaking from the goal and so was the goal post, somehow Queens Park managed to sneak a 3rd goal, the forwards fault again? Bruiser got a second yellow card and was sent off, i agree with Bruiser, I thought it was 3 yellows and off aswell? 3-2. Will we live to regret the points dropped?, time will tell. Will the stallion be dropped 3 weeks in a row?