TIPSTERMANIA 18 WEEK 8 REPORT
AFTER EIGHT, MINT!
Preccy presses on
KILL BILL
Dave dies (half) a thousand deaths
MOTHERF*CKER!
Di another day
Picture
the scene. The Wheatsheaf pub, Sutton
Leach. A handful of middle-aged men and
an 18 year old lad sit in the bar. One
of the TVs is showing Channel 4 racing, the other, Soccer Saturday.
3:07pm
“Oh
f*ck off Coventry!” spits one of the men, a fresh-faced fellow for a man of his
advancing years. He’s already had Chelsea 17/20 win for him in the early
kick-off, but feels that all is now lost.
3.11pm
“F*ck
off Kilmarnock! That’s my bet down the
sh*tter already”, opines the same hapless chap.
“Don’t be daft, it’s early days yet.
There’s loaaaaads of time to go”, offers the consoling voice of one his
oldest and most long-suffering friends.
3.20pm
Brentford
2 Coventry 1. “See, I told you Brentford 11/20 would turn it around” says the old, bearded friend.
3.36pm
“F*CK
OFF WATFORD!!! I’ve got no f*cking
chance this week”, whines our hero.
“Nonsense, it’s still early days yet!” consoles his uncharacteristically
optimistic mate.
HALF
TIME
Wigan 21/20 have equalized
against Watford. Aberdeen 8/13 have also
levelled versus Killie. Burnley 17/10 are beating Charlton, Man City 1/7 are one up and Brentford
are still cruising.
4.20pm
“Get
in!” Wigan take the lead and Burnley
extend theirs within minutes of each other.
4.30pm
“GET
IN!” Our man is now riding his seat like
a young Tony McCoy as Aberdeen score a decisive second. “Hey, I’m up in every match now, with just
United to come!”.
4.50pm
Final
score. He’s right, they’ve all won.
The
next 40 minutes seemed like an eternity, as we sat waiting for his beloved Man Utd 4/5 to kick off. None of us knew how much his bet was worth if
United obliged, but it felt big.
5.37pm
“F*CKING
GET IN!!!” Rooney’s wonder-goal sends
the now full bar into rapture and our hero into paroxysms of delight.
As
you may have guessed by now, the bearded samaritan was your own correspondent
and the role of the unfounded pessimist was played to perfection by Mr PAUL “I want City to beat United on Tuesday
so that Liverpool don’t win the League” PRESCOTT. The lousy get added £184.60 to last week’s win and put himself into 2nd spot
in the table and a lovely day was had by all.
Oh no, hang on a minute, that’s not right. I almost forgot. For two of us, it was gut-wrenchingly,
cock-punchingly ball-bustingly bloody awful.
I’ve
met DAVE BILL and he’s a very nice chap.
I’ve also met my Mum and she’s much the same, only female. God knows what they’ve done to deserve the
wretched luck that befell them both this week.
Dave doesn’t seem the sort of bloke to kill black cats and I’m fairly
sure that my Mum has never run over a nun.
Unlike my Dad. Brer Bill’s bet
was a proper thinking-man’s effort. Pick
five players who take most of their team’s penalties and/or free kicks and do
them as “anytime scorers”. An inspired
move. Hazard, Baines, Yaya Toure and
Rooney all did the honours, some more than once. Only one man let him down. His side scored 6, but he couldn’t manage a
single one, costing Dave £534.00. As if
all right-thinking people needed any more reason to detest Steven “point my
thumbs at the name of the back of my shirt like a spasticated Fonz”
Gerrard. What a MASSIVE C. As for my Mum, who, of course, is entirely
blameless in this farrago, “she” got 7 ½ out of 8 correct, with only Bolton’s
draw to blame for losing her £540 and top spot in the table. I blame that insufferable cock Vernon
Kaye. And Gibbo’s mate, Paddy McGuinness. And Preccy.
Still,
it could be worse. I could be Arsene
Wenger.
Keep
smiling
LAW