Inspired by Church o Choccy's rather inspired re-interpretation of the rules of association football, I thought a new thread where we all share some of the funnier things we've seen on a footy pitch down the years.
I'll start, although these may be the very definition of 'had to be there'.
We were playing the other big secondary school in our area, and were four or five goals up when our striker went clean through on goal and rounded the keeper. Now this bloke was the epitome of a flash bastard 14 year old. He had an ear ring which he refused to take off for matches, bleached hair, cycling shorts despite having no muscular problems and wore coloured boots before it was the done thing.
Anyway, he's rounded the keeper, and in keeping with his reputation as the world's biggest cnut muscle, he went for the textbook flash cnut move; he stopped the ball a yard or two before the line, and went to kneel down and head it over the line.
That's what he intended at least. What actually happened was that he somehow contrived to drop down too close to the ball, and when he went to stoop down and head it in, managed to be too close the ball, and it got sort of trapped under him. This gave the returning keeper just enough time to launch himself, two-footed from a few yards away, and smash 24 or so studs into our strikers' face and chest. Then, more or less knocked out, he fell sideways onto the ball, and the keeper picked it up in an unhurried fashion, and started giving the prone striker a bit of verbal for being a bit of a tit.
To add insult to injury, the ref displayed the true Irish hatred for flashness in all of its forms, and booked our (now extremely dazed) striker for ungentlemanly conduct. His second booking of the game. None of us complained. He strolled off, and having regained some of his Rob Low-esque cool, started doing the 'mouthy' hand gesture at one of their defenders (where you tap the fingers of your hand up and down on your thumb to indicate the other bloke is a mouthpiece). This despite the lad in question not having said a word to him. The feckin' bell-end.
I'll start, although these may be the very definition of 'had to be there'.
We were playing the other big secondary school in our area, and were four or five goals up when our striker went clean through on goal and rounded the keeper. Now this bloke was the epitome of a flash bastard 14 year old. He had an ear ring which he refused to take off for matches, bleached hair, cycling shorts despite having no muscular problems and wore coloured boots before it was the done thing.
Anyway, he's rounded the keeper, and in keeping with his reputation as the world's biggest cnut muscle, he went for the textbook flash cnut move; he stopped the ball a yard or two before the line, and went to kneel down and head it over the line.
That's what he intended at least. What actually happened was that he somehow contrived to drop down too close to the ball, and when he went to stoop down and head it in, managed to be too close the ball, and it got sort of trapped under him. This gave the returning keeper just enough time to launch himself, two-footed from a few yards away, and smash 24 or so studs into our strikers' face and chest. Then, more or less knocked out, he fell sideways onto the ball, and the keeper picked it up in an unhurried fashion, and started giving the prone striker a bit of verbal for being a bit of a tit.
To add insult to injury, the ref displayed the true Irish hatred for flashness in all of its forms, and booked our (now extremely dazed) striker for ungentlemanly conduct. His second booking of the game. None of us complained. He strolled off, and having regained some of his Rob Low-esque cool, started doing the 'mouthy' hand gesture at one of their defenders (where you tap the fingers of your hand up and down on your thumb to indicate the other bloke is a mouthpiece). This despite the lad in question not having said a word to him. The feckin' bell-end.
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