Post by hornet on Aug 5, 2007 12:14:06 GMT
So then. Once again. Here we are.
Here as in the figurative here, with a bunch of glorifed spreadsheets and a swarm of dancing dot$ standing between me and tedium, not as in the physical here. Because I've never been to Stark's Park in Kirkcaldy before. And haven't been there now, if you're insisting on being strictly literal, but we're not going to get far if you insist on doing that every five minutes, so shut up, put your knickers on and get me a cup of tea. THANKS.
Raith Rovers, then. Founded in 1883. Semi-pro. Scottish Second Division. Proud owners of a rather smart blue, white and red get-up and a board who want a respectable league position this season.
Let's have a wee shufti at the raw materials then, shall we? Christ, I don't remember the squad detail pages being quite this incomprehensible before. My brain hurts already. Still, onwards and upwards, eh?
Ones Who Were Picked Last On The Playground
First choice is Never A Frown, who is what US sitcoms would describe as "kooky", but is otherwise a perfectly servicable 26-year old stopper. After that it's a bit of a mess. Foghorn Hit Parade is the nominal backup, but given that he's 28 with no discernable skills that seems a mite optimistic. Foam-Rubber Fat Fucker, Man Overboard and Lamb Bhuna are all slightly less useless, and are all foetuses. We could really use a reliable backup goalie from somewhere.
Ones Too Lzy To Cross The Halfway Line
Cool And Froody represents the shining star in our firmament, a 30-year old Trinny & Tabascoian who's built like a supertanker while possessing roughly the same turning circle. His likely partner in central defence is DJ Homunculus, a decent all-round player without too many glaring weaknesses. Cover comes in the shape of Butt Out Of Hull, a crapper version of the Deej. Flanking them on the left is the heart-rendingly average Meat On The Ledge, while on the right a loanee from Dunfermline, Dead Plasterer's Society, is way better going forward than back. They're backed up by useless, Phil-Nevilleian right-sided utility player I'm A Locksmith and even-more-useless right-sided non-utility player, Flub-Flub Flubbity-Flub. Yep, that'll be one left back in the squad. But five keepers. Four of whom are rubbish. Nice work.
Ones Who Chase The Ball Around
Besides the Locksmith and Plasterer, down the right we've also got Me Buckin' 'At, whose skills include long throws and, er, that's it. On the left, young Hearts winger Dandy Highwayman is an allrounder with a good corner delivery, probably making him first choice ahead of the lzy-as-fck The Dance Settee. Between them are midget enforcer USS Tiny Penis and still-he's-good-in-the-air dullard Little Orphan Anakin. Kids Uncle Fucker, Velvet Clown, Tall Sombrero and Glazed In Honey provide depth in the same way that an umbrella provides protection against a thermonuclear detonation.
Ones Whose Ball It Is
Experts agree - 20-year old Scottish forward Peckham Puffin is the alpha and omega of this team. The subject of a dozen transfer enquiries during my first week on the job, the Puffin is a turbo-charged titch with a sublime first touch and a never-say-die attitude. My AssMan likes hulking brute Eskimo Arsekicker as his partner, but personally I'm leaning toward the more refined and influential Pocket Billiards as first option. Rounding out the side is the fast, enormous but bone-idle Time Tuba, and Robert Smith's Panda, who's nowhere near the finished article.
Noncombatants
An AssMan (Brannigan’s Law), a GK coach (Work Faster Alone) and four youth coaches. That can’t be right, can it?
Oh, and I have have but one scout. I think I've just worked out where the posse of hopeless goalkeepers came from. This is a man whose player evaluation technique seems to involve a copy of the Rothmans Football Yearbook, a blindfold and a pin. This is a man who firmly believes that Khalid Boulahrouz was the Premiership's player of the season. And who can't understand why Manchester United didn't hang on to Peter Schmicheal's natural successor, Massimo Taibi. This man, not to too fine a point on it, has a Judging Player Potential of 2. This man also has a Judging Player Ability of 1. This man is my eyes and ears. We shall call him Magoo. I am afraid. I am very afraid.
So then. In summary, aaargh.
Here as in the figurative here, with a bunch of glorifed spreadsheets and a swarm of dancing dot$ standing between me and tedium, not as in the physical here. Because I've never been to Stark's Park in Kirkcaldy before. And haven't been there now, if you're insisting on being strictly literal, but we're not going to get far if you insist on doing that every five minutes, so shut up, put your knickers on and get me a cup of tea. THANKS.
Raith Rovers, then. Founded in 1883. Semi-pro. Scottish Second Division. Proud owners of a rather smart blue, white and red get-up and a board who want a respectable league position this season.
Let's have a wee shufti at the raw materials then, shall we? Christ, I don't remember the squad detail pages being quite this incomprehensible before. My brain hurts already. Still, onwards and upwards, eh?
Ones Who Were Picked Last On The Playground
First choice is Never A Frown, who is what US sitcoms would describe as "kooky", but is otherwise a perfectly servicable 26-year old stopper. After that it's a bit of a mess. Foghorn Hit Parade is the nominal backup, but given that he's 28 with no discernable skills that seems a mite optimistic. Foam-Rubber Fat Fucker, Man Overboard and Lamb Bhuna are all slightly less useless, and are all foetuses. We could really use a reliable backup goalie from somewhere.
Ones Too Lzy To Cross The Halfway Line
Cool And Froody represents the shining star in our firmament, a 30-year old Trinny & Tabascoian who's built like a supertanker while possessing roughly the same turning circle. His likely partner in central defence is DJ Homunculus, a decent all-round player without too many glaring weaknesses. Cover comes in the shape of Butt Out Of Hull, a crapper version of the Deej. Flanking them on the left is the heart-rendingly average Meat On The Ledge, while on the right a loanee from Dunfermline, Dead Plasterer's Society, is way better going forward than back. They're backed up by useless, Phil-Nevilleian right-sided utility player I'm A Locksmith and even-more-useless right-sided non-utility player, Flub-Flub Flubbity-Flub. Yep, that'll be one left back in the squad. But five keepers. Four of whom are rubbish. Nice work.
Ones Who Chase The Ball Around
Besides the Locksmith and Plasterer, down the right we've also got Me Buckin' 'At, whose skills include long throws and, er, that's it. On the left, young Hearts winger Dandy Highwayman is an allrounder with a good corner delivery, probably making him first choice ahead of the lzy-as-fck The Dance Settee. Between them are midget enforcer USS Tiny Penis and still-he's-good-in-the-air dullard Little Orphan Anakin. Kids Uncle Fucker, Velvet Clown, Tall Sombrero and Glazed In Honey provide depth in the same way that an umbrella provides protection against a thermonuclear detonation.
Ones Whose Ball It Is
Experts agree - 20-year old Scottish forward Peckham Puffin is the alpha and omega of this team. The subject of a dozen transfer enquiries during my first week on the job, the Puffin is a turbo-charged titch with a sublime first touch and a never-say-die attitude. My AssMan likes hulking brute Eskimo Arsekicker as his partner, but personally I'm leaning toward the more refined and influential Pocket Billiards as first option. Rounding out the side is the fast, enormous but bone-idle Time Tuba, and Robert Smith's Panda, who's nowhere near the finished article.
Noncombatants
An AssMan (Brannigan’s Law), a GK coach (Work Faster Alone) and four youth coaches. That can’t be right, can it?
Oh, and I have have but one scout. I think I've just worked out where the posse of hopeless goalkeepers came from. This is a man whose player evaluation technique seems to involve a copy of the Rothmans Football Yearbook, a blindfold and a pin. This is a man who firmly believes that Khalid Boulahrouz was the Premiership's player of the season. And who can't understand why Manchester United didn't hang on to Peter Schmicheal's natural successor, Massimo Taibi. This man, not to too fine a point on it, has a Judging Player Potential of 2. This man also has a Judging Player Ability of 1. This man is my eyes and ears. We shall call him Magoo. I am afraid. I am very afraid.
So then. In summary, aaargh.