A Real Week In Football! – Episode I….European Championship Redux




Here is the first episode from Caddies and Young;

Mr Young: It is a bit scurrilous of me to try and review the group stages, I have watched hardly any football since being given a superb piece of advice by my mother. In a seemingly sensible conversation she informed me that one of her chums had been having some trouble with a fox, but it had been resolved by threatening the fox with jam sandwiches, it transpires foxes are afraid of jam. Doubting the truth was even a feint acquaintance to this tale I took to the countryside armed with a pot of Harley’s seedless raspberry and a song in my heart. Three hours and 15 terrified foxes later I resolved to rid London of its urban fox menace. To cut a long story short I cut a deal with the Lord Mayor that if I could clean up his hood he would pay me £15, a weeks holiday in turkey (to catch up with Bebes trail of destruction and try and put him on the path to recovery) and a unicorn named Dominic. Within a week London was foxless but no payment was made. It seems that my unicorn has been held up in quarantine and my airline tickets mislaid in the post. Boris won the £15 back in an impromptu game of “winner stays on hopscotch” so I am…Back to square one.

Group A

As football fans everywhere were ready for some showcase football, the tournament started off with the mouth-watering fixture that had Pele pitching a tent in his pants without any medical enhancements or tying mini-Pele up with some chopstick scaffolding. Yes it was Poland v Greece, oh don’t you just feel a twinge at the very thought of these two titans of football? It turned out to be a very watchable match like watching two teams of equally p!ssed up people trying to carry a stag home quicker than the others. The highlight of the match for me was definitely watching that gob-shite Chesney disgrace his host nation by displaying ineptitude in-goal and getting sent to share an early bath with his freak show sister Fizz. Determined not to be outdone by his fellow EPL goalkeeper, up stepped Special Ed, head geared up in case a large bird shows his disgust for the rentboy and drops a sturdy sh1t on his head. Sadly for him (yet hilariously for us), he made a prick of himself when it became apparent he has no hands. Another highlight in this group was seeing a little meerkat put in some fine displays for the communists. This relative unknown critter was called Arseshaven and I think he’s the type of player Arsey Whinger could do with. To be honest this group was not great, but provided some entertainment like watching Jedward sing while being eaten by a carnivorous hippo. The Commys surprisingly went home and the hosts unsurprisingly went out but were already home so just got (more) pissed up on the leftover Russian vodka. The Czechs and the bounced cheques from Greece made it through and will be knocked out by Portugal and Germany respectively.

Group B

I have always admired Denmark since my first experience of them in Mexico 86. The Laudrups, King Jesper of Olsen and Preben Elkjaer Larson rocked the group stages and wore a kit of such majesty that it was presented to Queen Elizabeth 1st (the Queen Mother) as an alternative to her ermine coat. For Preben Elkjaer of 86 read Bendtner in 2012. If you are Danish that is enough to make you want to gouge out your eyes and give them to a Norseman. They robbed the Dutch, as did everyone else, but sadly couldn’t beat Ronaldo. A brave effort but the lack of Hummel kit ultimately cost them

Dear Germany were efficient and systematic in winning all of their games and it was amazing to see that Gomez managed to keep Klose out of the starting Line up. Microsoft Klose has scored 412 goals in 87 internationals and is also the proud owner of a moustache so handsome it makes Johnny Depp blush. Germany will probably win the tournament unless they come up against Spain, the Germans will soon tire of their boring football and begin redesigning the stadium to make it more energy-efficient.

Portugal went through because they have Ronaldo (the gay one, not the fat one) and Nani. There is no other reason. Imagine a league of Wales team walking on to the Bala FC pitch and Helder Postiga is leading their attack. That is his rightful level and the Portugese will probably rue the day they decided to omit Bebe for this buck toothed sloth. The rest of their team is league 2 standard and although they are probably beating the Czech republic as I write this they won’t win the best dressed player award, never mind the tournament.

Holland did what Holland and France are only capable of, arrive at a major tournament with phenomenal players and good form and then absolutely shoot their own eyes out in the groups. They normally manage to fall out and apparently this time Heitinga and de Jong were at odds with each other about who could masquerade most unconvincingly as an international footballer. Losing all 3 games after finishing as runners-up in the world cup is a bit like spending £100m and then finishing outside the European places in the premier league. Imagine that.

Group C

Spain bore me to death and whilst I acknowledge that marks me as a footballing heathen I care not one jot. I admire their technical ability of course but for a team to have 70% of the ball makes a mockery of the term “football match” unless the fixture is against Guam no possession should be so skewed. I don’t think they will win the tournament and if the Croats still had Davor Suker they would have been eliminated at the group stages. Poor old Llorente didn’t even get on the pitch instead they preferred to play 6 in midfield, perversely making them more like Stoke than Brazil.

Italy were Italy, keeping things tight while still exuding a style and grace that makes them a joy to watch. De Rossi and Pirlo drive them through the groups but we still all wait for Mario to “do a Balotelli” and forget how to dress himself or entrap some locals and keep them
Hostage, feeding them only dandelion stalks until they agree to be his sexual experiments.

Croatia were resplendent in their passing and movement but were ultimately undone by the Spanish equivalent to water boarding torture. 90 minutes of 4 yard passes is a new method the USA army is reviewing as an alternative to extracting false admissions from apparent war criminals. Modric and Mandzucic performed admirably but sadly it wasnt quite enough, it would have been great to watch the always animated Bilic spend a little bit more time on the absolute edge of meltdown as he wills his team on to victory. Sadly he will now move to Kiev and oversee the injection of garlic butter into mechanically reclaimed chicken breasts.

Ireland were unlucky, being drawn in this group would have been too much for most international teams, despite what bitter Keane had to say. Yes, they might have been more attacking in their approach, but had they returned home with a trio of 6-0 defeats it would have been an even more bitter pill to swallow. They were unlucky that they hadn’t been able to reproduce the golden generation of the late 80’s when Aldridge, Houghton, McCarthy et al showed what Irish spirit and gumshion was all about.

Group D

Now to shower superlatives over the mighty England, whom a lot predicted, due to some poor squad choices, that they wouldn’t get out of the group. Some also hoped for this, mainly to be complete twat-baskets. I won’t really be showering them with superlatives; they ground out a draw with France which was a good result and a solid performance but as enjoyable to watch as a video of your own colonic irrigation. Minor highlights:

–        Klingon’s goal was like “oh look there’s the Lego man I swallowed when I was 8”;

–        A 3-2 win over the Swedes that came close to a defeat yet England showed an often unseen strength of character;

–        Finally a victory thanks to a comeback goal from Wayne Pele against Ukraine and the French surrendering top spot set up a quarter-final against the entirely incorrupt, not racist, not homophobic Italians.

Elsewhere in this group we got to see a great goal from Mr Modest Zlatan who by this time had already said “I don’t give a sh1t who wins it (Euro 2012) now, I’m going on holiday”. France finished 2nd and will get passed/bored to death by the Spanish in the quarter finals.

Thanks for reading our first Euro 2012 special and look out for A Real Week In Football during the rest of the tournament and throughout the coming EPL season.

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About Steve Ferguson 886 Articles
Steve Ferguson had taken over & re-branded The Faithful MUFC website back in the summer of 2014 and is now the owner and editor of the site. Steve, from Ashton-Under-Lyne in Greater Manchester, is a 35-year-old life long Manchester United fan, travelling over the globe to see the Reds play. Steve has been lucky enough to be at both the 1999 and 2008 Champions League finals, seeing Manchester United lift the biggest trophy in the World, none more exciting than that faithful night in Barcelona in 99. The website is a blog, but also hopes to deliver the latest Manchester United news from around the internet too, linked up with our growing twitter account which is @TheFaithfulMUFC, give it a follow as we will follow you back as soon as we can.

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