Clarification on the "Grr, Argh, Ref" article part 2

I would like to make it clear that the previous article was intended to be amusing, and not in any way serious. If the joke of changing partners fell flat in certain, close-by quarters, then I apologise unreservedly. Again.

There is no need for angry words, accusations and flying crockery. And there is certainly no need to cut the crotches out of my trousers.




At this point will someone please take away my f*cking shovel?

Clarification on the "Grr, Argh, Ref" article

Please note, with regards to the named article, the lady who encouraged our forward players to "Hit the F*cker" during the Wimbledon game was NOT my significant other, and I would like to place this fact on permanent record. I would like to offer an unreserved apology to my significant other if anyone thought otherwise.

However, with such a clear grasp of the footballing problems at hand, the lady who made this statement rose in my estimation to a point where she may well be my NEXT significant other.




Mmm....I have the nagging feeling that I haven't handled this clarification and apology as well as I'd hoped to.

How hard do they want make it?

Problem - The number of Kettering fans inside Rockingham Road is growing smaller and smaller.

Solution - Hike the prices and make every game all ticket, necessitating at least another extra journey to see the team play.

Never mind that this will deter floating supporters and drive them into Peter Mallinger's waiting arms.

Also never mind that it penalises our numerous supporters who live away from Kettering, and don't fancy relying on the snail-mail for their tickets.

Never mind too that the Club Shop in town has closed and the ticket kiosk at the ground isn't completed.

And now, for the Luton game you can only gain entrance if you are a Season ticket holder or Club Member! The tickets aren't going on general sale AT ALL. Do the authorities honestly believe that Luton fans without tickets will travel up here and buy them for the home end? Please! Given the increasingly sparse nature of the home support, they would stand out a mile with their haunted, "We used to be in Division One" look in their eyes.

It's all well and good making games all ticket when you are likely to be over-subscribed, but when less than a thousand home fans are in the ground you've got to ask yourself are you doing something wrong, surely?

Are the Club deliberately trying to make it less attractive AND less easy to get into Rockingham Road, because some of the stuff going on here beggars belief. All we want to do is turn up on a Saturday and watch our home town play non-league football. Is that too much to ask?

Grr! Argh! Ref!

What a strange couple of days referees have had at Rockingham Road. Last Tuesday's Ref booked everyone in a red shirt, up to and including at least 20 supporters for any slight infringement. In the interest of balance he also spoke harshly every time an Oxford player killed one of our forwards.

Saturday's Ref against Wimbledon was almost the opposite. He let the game flow and was reluctant to go for his card. In fact, for 80 odd minutes he was pretty good, which says a lot when he has given a penalty against your team.

And then the handball. He had a good view of the prolonged piece of juggling. He considered for a moment, and then deemed the action of the 'Dons defender to be within the rules and waved play-on. The grateful 'Dons player continued to get the ball under control with his arm for what seemed like another half an hour, much to the chagrin of the baying Cowper Street end.

So another Ref leaves the pitch with a security escort and runs the gauntlet of the Main Stand moaners. Ah well, he almost made it through 90 minutes!

Mind you, we'd have needed a penalty to get back into this game. Considering we had the vast amount of possession against a very poorly organised Wimbledon, we faffed far too much, in an almost Morrell-style fashion. Enough of the fancy flicks! "Hit the f*cker", as the lady close to me opined during one tense moment of play, and who could argue?

The Wimbledon defender finally subdues the bouncing ball

“Kettering and Proud (ish) to Be!”

Many moons ago, in its previous paper incarnation Patgod tackled head-on the malicious lie that Kettering was a town where nothing had ever happened and no one famous was born. Over the course of a couple of issues we assembled a mighty selection of fabulous facts and famous faces associated with our fair town.

Obviously none of these events or personages come immediately to mind now, but take it from us, they were both famous and fabulous!

At least nothing DID come to mind. Now it has! Quite recently the fastest man in history, Usain Bolt was routinely winning a 100 metres despite the fact that he elected to hop on one foot just to give the other competitors a chance. Whoops, settle down there everyone! Obviously we are not about to drop the bombshell that Usain himself was from Kettering, although that story would go some way to finally put this God-forsaken blog on the map. No, during his post victory warm down (just as the other runners had reached the 50 metre mark) one of the commentators (possibly Sally Gunnell, or someone good) happened to mention that Usain’s old school was “The William Knibb Memorial High School”.

William Knibb! Kettering’s own William Knibb! One of town's favourite sons. OK, as with anyone vaguely famous from Kettering he hot-footed it away from here as soon as he could, but still, he was born HERE, and despite the enormous weight of worthy deeds he performed in later life, he couldn't erase that embarrassing fact.

Knibb’s work in Jamaica in helping to bring an end to slavery has never been forgotten there obviously. And to be fair, for a change, his work is recognised in the town of his birth. A freed slave adorns our town’s crest. One of the council wards in this town is named after him. And there is the William Knibb Centre of course.

Mind you, as far as we can tell, the W.K. Centre seems to cater solely for our local thick shits and slappers, giving them somewhere to hang around with cans of cider, swap bodily fluids, and give each other homemade tattoos with bottles of ink and bits of broken glass.

Mm…Maybe we haven’t served his memory as well as we could have…?

For more information about our foremost former Cytriginian have a gander at this –

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Knibb

I'm sure though that Wikipedia could find a better picture to use though as the one they use makes it look as though he's been "goosed!"

Beckham's Inky Apendages

David Beckham has a number of laudable qualities. He has a God-given right foot. There are worse role models out there for our impressionable youths. He has almost infinitely adaptable hair. He even took pity on the least talented Spice Girl by making an honest woman of her.

But, seriously Dave, enough with the tattoos!

Whenever he is wearing short-sleeved football shirts he always looks as though he has dipped his arms in Ribena overnight - they are hideous! Either wear long-sleeves or see a surgeon quick and see if they can restore some pink to those limbs!

The "Luke Foster" Gobby Shite Award

After careful consideration the first recipient of this newly-formed, but certain to be popular award, is (pause to open envelope) Luke Foster of Oxford! Or, as he is more commonly known in these parts, "That mouthy No.5".

We believe Luke will be a popular inaugural winner of this award. It takes a rare talent to whine, complain and bellyache to a referee and linesmen for the full 90 minutes of a game, whilst simultaneously fouling everybody in sight.

A remarkable performance. One we will be seeing again later in the season no doubt.