Killingholme Blossoms 1 V 9 Scunthonians

We sent our new match reporter "Belly Windass" out for this one:

Weather conditions – lovely

Pitch condition – Drinky would be proud, but a bit long

Spectators – Can’t remember, less than ten.  A few even brought their own chairs

Ref – guy in the black.  Good trim.

Match report

Scuns turned up a bit on the negative side with a few faces looking like they were pooing it due to the big scary nature of a few of the Killingholme in-breads.  A few of the tattoo clad chavs had their girlfriends watching but they could have been their sisters?  There were some shocking gay boots on display and Immingham is not the place for show ponies, with St. Johns on speed dial in the club house.  Chappy received bad news from the Gaffer as he was sent to right back, hoping to live up to the Gary Neville repertoire but without the shit poo tash.

The warm up didn’t do much to settle the nerves and Drinky (aka Joe) was probably left thinking what had he done signing for these bunch of jokers?  Not helped when Bellamy ballooned over a ball into the neighbouring garden.  The security fencing lived up to its name, proving to be an absolute bastard.  Made even worse when Special K spanked the only decent togger we had into a coup full of monster chickens and a big fuck of scary dog! Even the locals wouldn’t even go in so we lost two good men that day.

Into the game – whistle blew and a normally sleepy Scuns from KO were anything but from the start.  Any early nerves were put to one side as Scuns took instant control of the game as we all realised that these lot were dogger.

Scuns were 2 up after about ten minutes as Rids opened the floodgates as he curled one out….into the top corner.  He chased a lost cause down soon after, hit a cross which then deflected in of the hapless defender into his own net.  2- 0, Scuns were coasting.

Before Scuns settled in too much the Blossoms opened up our defence straight down the middle and the striker nicely slotted it away for a fat lad.

That was the kick up the bum some of Scuns needed as they quickly broke down into the enemy box where Ridders got nudged and the Ref surprised everyone and blew for a spot kick.  Ridders was on it, so up he stepped.  Dave K looked upset.  Rids ran up and tucked away….just.  Put of by the fact that the Blossoms centre back had apparently shagged his mum!

The mighty Scuns were running riot with some marauding runs from Bellamy and Drinky five fingers getting in behind so easily.  The combination of Owen and Rids seemed to be paying dividends too.

It was way too easy for Scuns, but only because of excellent football and passing, leaving it at 7-1 at half time.  An own goal which Bazza couldn’t claim, Jim smashed in from a corner after Simo’s header at goal skimmed of his nose, and Rids added two more to make it 4 for the Man Of The Match.  Rids also laid one of for Bellamy but he smashed another into Margaret Street – another man lost.  Chances scorned, it could have been 10 – 1.

The half time whistle blew, and it was clear to hear that the home team were rattled.  The second half would clearly be a case of making sure shin pads were on tightly and no fifty-fifties.

A lack lustre second half saw moments of magic but little result. Ridder’s ran out of puff with lickle blisters from his new gay boots (faggitt), Jimbob headed well over from 5 yards and Bellamy again wasted a piss easy chance.  Not forgetting Owens miss at an open goal from a free kick where he scuffed his boot into the grass.  BJ did however manage to add a spectacular volley into the bottom right and Owen slotted home into the same corner from a miss hit Potso pass.

The Ref had a bit more work on his hands in the second as shouting and swearing, all too common in the Scuns camp, raised its funny yet ugly head.  It was justified though as a few of their chunky monkeys started throwing their weight around trying to snap Special K, Jimbob, Owen and Chappy.  This led to the highlight of the second half as Chappy saw red after being judo chopped round the ankle and proceeded to tell the Ref he was having “a fucking beast!!” Straight in the book he went.  That’ll teach him….no, probably wont.

Full time, job done. The icy showers too much for some Wendy’s in the Scuns camp and to the clubhouse for a well deserved winner’s beer.  No food, shocking.

Come on Nana love, see you all next week. x.x.x

P.S. Belly didn't send all the details e.g. who assited - so If I've got any wrong, then let me know.!