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Gardiner's World |
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Hi I'm Trinity's large headed midfielder Chris Gardiner and welcome to my world! Throughout the season I'll be giving you the readers a regular look at the world through my eyes. As Robbie Williams says in his song 'Let me entertain you!' |  |
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27 January 2008 Possible Social events!!!! Greetings loyal reader and welcome to a long overdue Gardiner’s World column. We apologise for our overly long absence, but now that our excellent editor in chief is doing more regular updates, we will try to be more regular. Anyway to the crux of the matter, our delight at Gareth's reinstatement as Social Sec has been shared by our reader, so we would like to share their enthusiastic letter to us that suggests some wonderful themed nights out. Read on and enjoy. I was a very interested and very excited reader of Gareth's Curran's suggestions for Trinity nights out. Goodness me it's good to have him back and to have a clear idea of what's going on rather than some expletive riddled mumbles about a possible night out in March, that everyone had to put up with last year. My hope is that it will also lead to a really good knees up abroad, at the end of a successful season on and off the pitch for both teams at Trinity. Not like last seasons debacle where only all the boring c*nts went and Rayon, and the main story was that Mark Ryan wasn't very good at general knowledge. Well anyone who's been unfortunate enough to get trapped in a conversation with him could have worked that out, without forking out loads of money to sit on a plane with the thick c*nt. I thought I would make some other suggestions for your popular Social Secretary as regards some themed nights out, God knows he's got a lot to do after that mumbling pr*ck from last year, almost single handed, stopped people even going for a drink and a 1% meat sausage after the game. Here goes, hope they meet with Gareth's approval: (1) B*mmers Night Out: this is a night out for all those people in your team who like some serious ar*e action, or even for those who are just curious. I think this night will be more heavily attended than in the past when Gus would probably turn up on his own and take some amil nitrate and try and b*m himself, but now I'm sure there would be plenty of takers. (2) Boring C*nts Night Out: Again should be a busy one, maybe Greg could make it back for this one, I'm sure he'd have a whole bunch of avoidable anecdotes from his time, where ever he is cos I wasn't really listening when he was telling me. Plus, anyone wanting a sunburn anecdote this night is a must. (3) Mum's Night: A night where all the players bring out their mums, some of the younger players might even have a fit mum for the older players to try and get a w*nk job off round the back of the Pack Horse. If someone isn't bothered what the mum looks like but still fancies getting w*nked off, my mum's always up for it after a couple of Malibu's. This night would be perfect for ugly f*ckers like Fieldy to be at least seen out once with a woman. (4) Middle Class Night out. Also known as A Tom's Night out. Like suggestion number one this would have once led to an empty Pack Horse, but getting rid of Sky and replacing it with 'You've Been Framed' did that. Trinity was famed for it's no nonsense hard as f*ck, but honest as the days long, working class lads. Now it's full of middle class m*ncers who are more interested in getting their eye brows plucked and barfing on about their "beloved Headingley" on some poncey middle class property programme like Location Location Location, than they are at getting their Fork Lift license, getting p*ssed on lager and kicking someone’s head in who's not studying 17th Century Love Poems at Leeds Uni and THEN going to the match. This really would be a popular night out, people like Mike wouldn't have to worry about being poked with a pool cue whilst trying to down a half larger shandy, and chucking up as a result. He might get poked with an epee (fencing sword Lee) whilst sipping a rich Burgandy though. If you don't want a laugh, but would like to discuss; Schools in the area; how you had a good, but a quiet Xmas; how you think immigration is getting out of control but you’re DEFINITELY not a racist; how you can't believe how much the value of your house has gone up since you bought it (in a smug voice) and you want to whisper the word 'black' in reference to someone’s skin colour; this is the night for you. (5) Woking class night out. Perfect for Leroy, Mullers, Gardiner, Rayon, Lee Field, Marcus (despite his poncey first name and double barrel surname, he qualifies on jailbird status), on account of being thick Killer and Mark Ryan and on account of being Irish and therefore subservient, Travers and Gareth. This would obviously be the best night out. There'd be shed loads of lager drank, or cheap working class wine, of which there is plenty available at the Pack Horse. Loads of fighting, swearing and having a go at students. There'd be knee tremblers around the back with some posh bint who likes a bit of rough. A pavement full of gob and healthy collection of tats. You may also notice that there is a healthy ethnic mix on this night out. Well done to all the lads who qualify for this night you truly are the lifeblood of football. (6) Geordie Night Out. This would be a night for people closely associated with the club who don't actually play. You obviously have to be a Geordie to qualify, although creepy Southerners and people with gout who look like creepy Southerners have been know to infiltrate. For others who, although they aren't unfortunate enough to be a Geordie, would like to blag their way in, follow these simple rules. Stand closely together and babble on inanely about nothing in particular, but grin all the way through it and lean, chin o'er pint, when delivering the line "Your Mam" which is considered a witty retort to the put down "Your mam". Then go on aboot sh*gging and make sure you make yourself sound f*cking top dog, but have a whole load of phrases for things like "slip her the babies arm, man" (place your p*nis in her v*gina); "Wor man wor's having a four ball the neet" (I'm sorry I can't come out with you tonight, my partner and I are having dinner with another couple) "Your mam" (your mother); "wayaye man wake up Martin/Jordan your toe's ganning out he door ahead of ye man" (Excuse me Martin, wake up, your gout is causing your toe to expand and it is in danger of leaving without you). Be aware that Geordies usually travel in 3s, speak like they are still students and will put the prefix "Geordie" before their slightly altered surnames, so, for example, Pearson becomes "Geordie Pearsoner". Talking about Keegan like he isn't an idiot, is a must. Finish the night off my all crowding in on some vaguely attractive lass all try to out do each other with amusing asides, delivered whilst clutching your pint glass to your chest and leaning o'er it, before saying to the girl in question, out of the side of your mouth..."your mam". (7) Sh*t Shirt Night Out. Just for Pete. (8) A Robbie Pearson Arranged Night Out. This would appear like any other night at the Pack Horse as no f*cker would be there, except for some googly eyed freak stood at the bar on his own, spitting and mumbling incoherently, who once the Pack Horse Landlord stops being "friendly" (creepy) with a young nervous looking barmaid, will ask him to leave. The landlord will then be told "F*ck Macca, I'm the f*cking ex-social secretary, f*cking Robbie, f*cking Pearson." Before Robbie does his hamstring and has to leave. (9) You've heard of Vicars and Tarts nights out, well how about as an alternative, Freedom Fighters and Cowardly Traitors Night. This will be a colourful night full of singing, dancing, tin whistle playing and alchohol. The chief revellers will be Gareth, Travers, Mullers, Mark Ryan and Christy Gardiner. In addition there will be a shifty, weasely looking Paul McIntyre. Suddenly the music, joy filled party will be broke up by a big ponce on a horse, Colonel Pr*ck Priestly. As him and his armed men in black uniforms wade in to the innocent unarmed revellers and their wives and young children, it will become apparent to these fine, moral, patriotic and proud young men that the snivelling creep, who seemed like his face might have been burnt or scarred in some way (Macca), was now riding on the back of P*ick Preistly's horse and pointing out who he should drag out in to the streets and shoot in front of his doting children. The night ends in carnage, but the revellers will live to organise another such night AND ONE DAY THEY'LL FINISH THAT NIGHT WITH THEIR OWN PEOPLE AND NO ONE FROM OUTSIDE WILL EVER BRING IT TO A HALT AGAIN! Well there you go some marvellous suggestions from our loyal reader I'm sure you'll agree. We here at Gardiner's world are delighted to see Gareth back in his rightful place as Social Secretary. We are confident he needs no help from this column or it's reader, but the suggestions are there should he want them. Good look with organising the next out and dragging some of those boring c*nts out for a laugh, a successful team is built on team spirit and there's plenty of room available at The Horse. 'Til next time folks get out there AND SCORE A SOCIABLE GOAL!! What do you think of Gardiner's suggestions? Do you have any suggestions of your own for good social evenings? E-mail Trinity FC Online now with your views. |
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15 January 2007 SHOUT AT HIM!!! Morning Trinity fans everywhere. Gardiner's World over the forth coming weeks is going to undertake a slightly different slant. Yes the near the knuckle, shoot from the hip, ground breaking, Online Award winning, writing style, our reader so enjoys, will still be there. However, over the next few weeks Trinity football club have given Gardiner's World unprecedented (basically never before heard of, Lee) access to some of Trinity's favourite sons. Gardiner's World will spend at least, AT LEAST, a day in the company of one of Trinity's Galactrino's (some will obviously take longer; you trying telling Martin Clubbs story in a day; some shorter; Gus). There will be an in-depth Q&A with each of these Trinity greats, some veterans of many a incident packed Trinity campaign, some new and exciting talent, who will add a modern flava (we believe it's called). We can't guarantee what will be said, but we can guarantee; interesting insights into the game and the minds of some Trinity greats; personal profiles of very private figures; explosive exclusives and a never before seen look at the sanctum that is, The Trinity Dressing Room. We here at Gardiner's World would like to thank all that have made this project possible, it promises to be one of the most exciting, shocking, enlightening and hilarious (except for the week we interview Greg) projects we've ever been fortunate enough to embark on. Enjoy. In true Gardiner's World we kick of this exciting series of interviews with a character who, since joining Trinity has become as influential on off the pitch as he ever was on it (especially after he's subbed himself). A character who not satisfied with influencing a game with his controlled, incisive passing, turned to influencing it with his controlled, incisive tactics. Such forward thinking gems as "Do we really want this?" "They've got a few black lads playing for them, but don't be scared of them" and "Jonesy get warmed up." Of course I speak of highly popular Trinity 2nd Team player/manager, Neil Hig(owithboys)gins. We met Neil at one of his favourite hang outs, The Fruit Cupboard, he seemed to have someone under his table but they scarpered when we arrived, let interview commence. GW=Gardiner's World NH=Neil Higgins.
WOW, follow that Trinity's other budding interviewees, what an explosive, insightful interview from one of Trinity's least, sorry I mean, most popular players and members. I think we'll all agree apart from his fascinating insights on the game/club, he has finally put those salacious rumours about his sexuality behind him (fanarr, fanarr). I'm sure we'll hear more from Neil, so I've made copies of the full interview and deposited them in a safety deposit box. Looking forward to the next one, I know I am. Until then, ASK A PROBING QUESTION OR TWO OF THE OPPOSITION GOALKEEPER, BY SCORING A GOAL Who do you want Gardiner's World to interview next? E-mail Trinity FC Online now with your views. |
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25 September 2006 Come on Trinity! Another season looms over the horizon like one of Lee Fields ex's, casting a giant shadow. I have to say we here are Gardiner's World are really excited about the forth coming season more so than in a long, long time. The reason for my excitement, simple, Trinity's new players. I think they're going to be excellent additions. Don't get me wrong I'm thrilled to bits to see several of the old faces back again this year, and by old I don't just mean jowelly faced Jordan, puffy cheeked Robbie, "I said puff your chest out, not your gut", Macca and gormless faced Travers, gormless face. But the young old faces; Simpsons socks Rayon; Calvin Calvin (3 pairs for a fiver), LeRoy and "I've got to travel with that google eyed perv again" Dennis. There’s also the return of some of Trinity's older players, who look younger because of their eye for fashion, modern 'attitudes' or baby faced public schooled rosy cheeks. I refer of course to Trinity's ever popular, co-manager, the evergreen Jim 'Mullers' Mullowney and his FASHIONABLE skinhead; Trinity trend setter and all round japester, Chris "Regards" Gardiner and of course, big middle class "the houses around my way have gone up by about £8,000 over the summer alone", ponce, Tom "The Pr*ck" Priestley. We haven't yet seen enough of the teeth baring maniac that is Martin "Clubby" Clubbs, or anything of the enthusiastic, Mick Toney loving (doing a degree!!!!) Mark Ryan, but they'll be welcomed back with open arms and broad smiles I'm sure. The much loved short munching b*ttocks of Jimmy Yates have also made a popular return, but Jim maybe taking his chest into the outfield this year, if so, I'm sure he will prove every bit as effective and reliable there as he has done between the posts. All those players aside, who make Trinity the fascinating club that it is, it's the New Kids On the Block that have got me salivating more than Robbie in a play pen. I'll go through some of the players that we here at Gardiner's world have been fortunate enough to witness so far and if there are any ladies planning on spectating this year you won't be disappointed, especially if you like attacking midfielders with ENORMOUS conks, that’s not a spelling error. You seem to have acquired another middle class ponce called Tom, but this one is a rare creature, a middle class ginger of all things. Normally ginger people are ugly and therefore treated as stupid at school and underachieve as a result. They then find it difficult to get employment and break out of the ginger ghetto they have so rightly been placed in. Whisper it, but someone within the club, an extremely popular member of the club, had to shave his head to be accepted in the education community, a distressing but true story, for the sake of his family he does not want me to reveal that he is a secret ginge. It's not Neil by the way, I said popular, not b*nder. So well done to Tom for breaking out of that sh*t and becoming a good player AND middle class. One small request for Tom would be, keep it shut in the changing room so the opposition don't think we're a bunch of f*ggots, and because your banter is p*ss poor and don't say things like "Hey come on player" to members of the opposition, that tough guy talk already belongs to someone else who was raised in a house with a back garden and a separate toilet and bathroom and is called Tom. You also appear to have re-acquired the services of Dave 'Killer' Kilsby, another excellent acquisition. Dave had a brief sabbatical, he was away from Trinity for one season, but the club stayed close to his heart. Dave showed this by turning up for 11 minutes of our semi-final victory over Beeston and by several stupendously unfunny exchanges with various Old Boys websites 'wits'. On the pitch Dave is an uncompromising defender who is also a very good ball player and I'm sure his return will be a huge boost to the Trinity ranks. His inarticulate ramblings, poorly dyed hair, clear lack of qualifications and military background, also provide a welcome boost to Trinity's efforts to become a more intimidating working class team. Dave is 23 and lives with his mum. Dave's boost to Trinity's 'working classness' leads me to another welcome addition to the ranks, Scott, a new goalkeeper. After just one showing I have seen enough to know that his talking, agility and presence will make Trinity a safer outfit. The good news off the pitch is he's from the North East, the forgotten area of England where black smoke still fills the sky, some incomprehensible local dialect is mumbled between 'natives' over the outdoor washing lines that fill the street, as the menfolk, faces blackened by another tough day down t'pit (even though the dozy b*stards don't realise they closed over a decade ago), as small grubby faced urchins rake the bins for some fish bones 'for us tea'. Outsiders are greeted with great suspicion and usually end up thrown on a huge fire in the village square, sacrificed to the great 'Bottle of Broon' and then they all dance around the burning corpse dressed only in a large moustache. Basically we all know that not only are inhabitants of this area poorly educated, they also just sound plane thick. Furthermore, and of even greater interest to the Trinity clan, he does shift work. For years Trinity have envied the likes of Stanningley and Collegians in particular when they burst into our changing rooms smelling of Old Spice and White Lightning, start talking about been p*ssed last neet and then punctuate their 'sentences' with swear words, before one of them goes (to give the impression they don't even know who's going to playing) "Derrr, where's f*cKing like, f*cking like, Dazzer, the f*cker, like?" before a team mate responds; "He can't, like f*cking play like cos he's got like f*cking to do like late f*cking shift at like f*cking factory and that, the f*cker like". Much poor grammar and banter ensues usually something along the lines of "what you putting that f*cking shirt on for, your sh*t, HAR HAR" (RESPONSE) "Oh yeah, your f*cking mum's sh*t, HAR HAR" etc. etc. Trinity's nicely educated C2's, and above, would cower on the other side of the changing room, NOW however we will be able to retort with a similar tale and a mutual respect will instantly be formed between us and Stanningley/Collegians, until they get back on their carts and begin the 3 day journey back to their villages, picking up exotic items such as oranges for their wives/cousins and talking about how "them p*ffs are alright now they've got that f*cking sh*ft worker playing for them. I might come to f*cking big city more f*cking often. I could maybe stay at that posh c*nts house sounds like he's got loads of spare f*cking room". So three cheers for Scott, Trinity's first shift worker. (Macca does shift work, but he's a manager and has a degree, so it doesn't count) This brings me nicely on, in a way I can't quite fathom, to another new and highly significant signing for Trinity, ex-Roundhegians, Rep side regular, Imran Mughal. A signing that has got even the most hardened of Trinity's fans excited and moist in areas they'd long forgotten could get moist. Imran is a well known and well respected player in this league, he can operate in a multitude of positions and is not afraid to berate the ref in any of them. Imran’s all round work ethic, ability and experience would be a huge asset to any team and Trinity are delighted to have him on board I'm sure. Furthermore he has shown he has a real NOSE for goal, that he can SNIFF an opportunity, he can SMELL fear in the opposition, he SNOZ exactly where the goal is. We were slightly puzzled by one thing here at Gardiner's world though and that is the spelling of his nickname (origin unknown at this stage) BEANo, it's surely spelt GONZo. We here at Gardiner's world would like to point out at this stage that we were asked to put in these thinly disguised digs at the fact that Imran has a prominent hooter, by other Trinity regulars, to encourage 'banter'. This was put to us, by sources who shall remain unnamed, so that Imran would realise he was already considered 'one of the lads' and as a result doesn't have to follow that weasel Pearson around before games, in a "he's played for the rep side, he must be well respected" type way. He's not. There are of course other new additions also, but until their plans become clearer, we shall not say too much about them here at Gardiner's world. These are Dan "I might have to shave my head for fashion reasons soon" Berry; "I've been in a magazine don't you know" Regan; Daz. There is one person you may not have noticed has left, seeing as most of you didn't know he actually played for us, Dave Rogers. Dave's exact whereabouts are unknown, but suffice to say he'll be using his hollow chest somewhere to accompany flooded villagers to safety. However every cloud...could be seen as a prelude to a downturn in the weather, Jonesy is Back in "Return of the Toneless Bicep". A welcome return to one of Trinity's favourite sons, tired of pacing the garden at home, "the Mrs'" Porsche gone, he's decided to pace the touchline for another season. The t-shirt sleeves are higher, the gibberish statements more frequent, the skin more orange, but we wouldn't change any of it, he's arms and he's dangerous. SO COME ON TRINITY LET'S MAKE IT A SEASON FOR THE WHOLE CLUB TO REMEMBER, GET OUT THERE AND SCORE LOT'S OF GOALS! Do do you agree with Gardiner? What do you think of Trinity's new players? E-mail Trinity FC Online now with your views. |
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15 May 2006 Trinity goes to Hollywood! Yes folks it's true, at last, the greatest club we know is about to hit the big screen. It has come as no surprise to us here at Gardiner's World, as over the years we have been inundated with an offer to make a film on the soap opera that is Trinity F.C. Trinity has always been more than a mere football club, much much more. Born out the brilliant, but twisted minds, of Pete 'bag of sweets' Fusco, Finbarr 'I'll get him after the match whilst heading off in his car' Laverty, Frankie 'Break your legs, but not in a dirty way' Foster, Tony 'Break your legs in a dirty way' Hegarty, Joe 'I could have gone to Yorkshire Bank, but they didn't want me' Collucio and of course the great Andy 'H.F.S. Loans League’ Lowe, Trinity always sought to be a club that promoted family values and it's local community, so it moved miles away from the college with which it was affiliated and was made up of players from all over the place. A dream had been realised and the first act, in what would be a fairy (no offence Neil) tale and an epic story. God bless those brave pioneers. The reason that we turned down all the offers we'd received, here at Gardiner's world, was that we didn't feel they ever gave us the kind of creative freedom the club gives it's players, so therefore the story would not be a fair reflection of the Trinity spirit, ethos and creed and we weren't afforded the chance to distort the truth, exaggerate and humiliate to a suitable degree. plus most Hollywood studios have a strict no ginger blokes policy, which would have rendered the Trinity story almost untellable. We, here at Gardiner's world felt that for the Trinity story to be told to full effect, it could not be told in merely one film, or even in some kind of Lord of the Rings, grandiose Trilogy, but rather in a collection of films, each one unique in it's own way, like everyone who's represented Trinity, yet undeniably linked, like everyone who's represented Trinity, yes even you Jonesy. There are those among you, yes I know you'll have already spotted it Lee, who will have said "Ahh, just like the great Italian director Fellini and his 'Mi Attori, Fantasia' series made in the 50's" well bully for you Fieldy, we admit without shame that the idea is indeed a homage to the criminally under seen Fellini. We felt this was the only way we could show; the triumphs; the crushing defeats; the tears; the joy; the asthma; the gout; the victory in adversity; the internal conflict; the hair loss; the loves the losses and the pointless punts into touch; that we so identify with the Trinity tale. What will unfold before your eyes in this, and maybe a further Gardiner's world column is our idea of how the story may be told over a series of films. Please, take some popcorn, a bag of pic-an-mix, a large coke and some sl*g from Miggy to wa*k you off and enter the theatre and enjoy. The first movie in the series would be a joyous celebration of an art form Trinity have perfected over the years. This would be a colourful and carnival like film, it would be "OFFSIDE: THE MUSICAL". The film would contain elaborate dance scenes, of defenders, dressed as Macca and Clubby, so one with mad gnashing teeth and glasses and the other with a, silent villain who ties damsels' to the train tracks, beard, swooping forward, towards, but critically not passed, another bunch of fellas prancing in shorts towards the goal WITH THE BALL ,with there hands dramatically raised, singing with great gusto: "OFFSIIIIIIDE...OFFSIIIIDE, WEFFERWEE, SURELY YOU CAN SEE, THEY ARE....OFFSIIIIDE. YOU KNOW THE RULE IF I RAISE MY HAND AND LOOK LIKE A FOOL AND THE ATTACKERS PASS ME WHILST I SIMPLY STAND, MOTIONLESS. THEN THEY ARE...OFFSIIIIDE. (Then with a dramatic, very camp dancer like, double take, Clubby and Macca look behind them to see the rest of their team mates, before the referee pirouettes towards them and then sings in deep voice) I'M AFRAID FOR YOU, YES, YOU TWO, ARE THE ONLY ONES IN FRONT OF THE BALL, SO IT STANDS TO REASON, I CAN ONLY MAKE ONE CALL, THEY ARE, THEY ARE.....ONSIIIIDE. ONE, NIL I THINK IT'S FAIR TO SAY, OF YOUR OFFSIDE TRAP THAT IT DOESN'T WORK BECAUSE IT'S CR*P IT CAUSES YOUR TEAM A GREAT DEAL OF HARM PLEASE NOW, PAUL, LOWER YOUR ARM, FROM THIS IRONY YOU CAN'T HIDE YOU'VE BEEN STOOD THERE SO LONG, YOU ARE...OFFSIIIIDE. This particular film will also incorporate a musical number where the scene will resemble the infamous metamorphosis scene in Jekyll and Hyde, where brilliant Physician, Doctor Jekyll, turns into the evil Mr.Hyde. The scene in this film will see Martin Clubbs in a dressing room getting ready for a 2nd team game. Martin will have his glasses on and be impeccably dressed, discussing the latest developments in the financial sector and listening to the banter going on around him. Suddenly as Martin's hand starts to reach towards his face he will begin to twitch, then his body will start to contort and his back will arch in a disturbing manner. He then hits the floor, seemingly convulsing and gargling, finally he curls into a ball with his back to the rest of the dressing room, who are in shock. Slowly he turns his head (he's now wearing a football kit, with a number 12 on the back), the camera first shows the horrified looks on his team mates faces, then it goes back to Clubby to show his face, free of glasses. It's horrific, eyes maniacal, teeth bared and clenched together, fist clenched, he bellows out a blood curdling cry of "YEEEEAH! COME ON TOM!!!", a young horrified Leroy asks, "My God what is it?", a rueful looking Macca simply replies, "That, Leroy, is no longer Martin, that is (dramatic music), CLUBBY (lightning flashes through the window". Later on a rueful Martin can be seen (back to normal) in the changing room alone, face pressed against the rain soaked window, occasional flashes of lightning illuminating his face, Martin begins to sing in a sorrowful voice; "What have I become? What is to be done? How can I control this monstorrr I AM (slams the bench) Martin, the financial advisorrr. Who is this other me? That makes me so an-ger-eee I see the ball, I can't get there But the monster means I do not care I make my 40 yard charge, and with a growl I commit a most horrific foul Why oh Why, (Martin is now outside in the rain) Clubby, you monster, all I'm as-kin (then standing eyes towards the heavens, arms outstretched, getting rained on heavily) IS PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, LET ME PLAY AS MARRRRTINNN!! (the song ends with an emotionally exhausted Martin falling to his knees, as lightning to illuminate sky). It's powerful stuff I think you'll agree. The next film in the series tackles the uplifting story of the Irish lads within the club, from there humble, shoeless, penniless beginnings to arriving, wide eyed at, at the 'Home of Football' St. Theresa's. This film will be entitled "Divvydance". The stars will be big, eared toothless simpleton Gareth Curran; Gormless faced, f*ckwit Stevie Travers (his cockney voice will be dubbed out by James Nesbitt) and large faced, illiterate, Eamonn. The film will show them, rather like in Braveheart, in a small village made up of mud huts, out door fires and hunchbacked, toothless simpletons, with eyebrows on their cheeks, shoeless and dressed in rags, cackling and singing around a burning cow, the onscreen caption will read, "Ireland. 1998." Our 3 heroes will be conversing in some barely decipherable language, the conversation will go something like this: Gareth: "Sure I hear that der England is some mighty place all together" Travers: "Tis true I heard it meself, sure I'd love to go over there, I could bring my gormless face along to 'oul fairground and let people smash me in it with der oul fishts and sure I wouldn't feel a fecking ting" Eamonn: "Ugh, umn, ahoo a goo ra ta" Gareth: "Too right boy, you said it. I'd dare say we could make millions to be sure I could let the children ride on me ears, you could get your oul gormless face bathered in and Eamonn, sure people would pay thousands to see your big oul face" Travers: "So it's agreed then we'll go. I'll grab me bike and me oul rain coat, to be sure, 'cos we'll have to ride across the sea All 3 together: "UP THE F*CKING RA!!! The film would then go onto to show them p*ssing everyone off on the boat by doing a sh*te dance and playing the spoons, before eventually making there way to Leeds. When they get to Leeds there, there is a a large shaven headed bloke with one huge toe poking through his Cord, spats, wearing a cowboy hat and an A.O.K Oil t-shirt, he starts to talk in a rubbish Irish accent "Howya, boys, lishten all ye other oirish boys are working for me...". Travers then says "Sure dis sounds great wad ya tink boys", they all agreed. The large toed man continues, "To be sure I own a pine shop and a sandwich shop, hah? What do ye's tink?" The 3 green behind the ears Irish lads start to p*ss themselves laughing and say "Sure no c*nt would believe dat, Pine and sandwiches for feck sake, sure you musht tink we'se are awful tick". The three of them take off laughing and doing a jig whilst playing the accordion and the fiddle. The final scene shows the big eared fella being thrown in jail because he smelt some vodka and then headbutted a 73 old woman, who apparently was "being a right f*cking pr*ck", even though seconds earlier he was "having the crack with her". The next film starts in the maggot ridden cess-pit, that is the Eastend of London. The opening shot shows 3 fat, stumpy, bald blokes sat around the Joanna (piano) having a right old ding dong (sing song), in pub. The youngest stumpy one then suddenly at the top of voice, in a real Chas n' Dave voice, starts singing, whilst moving round the pub tapping a different person on the arm, to get their attention, at the beginning of each line: "MYYYYYY BRUVVVVERRRRR is so great MYYYYYY BRUVVVVERRRRR is so good MYYYYYY BRUVVVVERRRRR's my best mate And the hardest in our hood MYYYYYY BRUVVVVERRRRR's better than you MYYYYYY BRUVVVVERRRRR's than me There's noffink he can't do Speak to him and you'll agree MYYYYYY BRUVVVVERRRRR is the best MYYYYYY BRUVVVVERRRRR is top class He's better than the rest And he'll kick your student ass MYYYYYY BRUVVVVERRRRR knows whats what MYYYYYY BRUVVVVERRRRR's like no other MYYYYYY BRUVVVVERRRRR's got the lot You know what, I wish I was MYYYYYY BRUVVVVERRRRR!!! Then they all waddle outside, cigarettes held confidently in the air and waddle darn to the nearest tattoo parlour, telling everyone they pass (arms bent at the elbow moving up an down simultaneously) "YOU WANNA GET YOURSELF DARN TO THE OLD TAT PARLOUR, THATS WHAT YOU WANNA DO, YOU WANNA GET YOURSELF DARN THERE AND GERCH YOURSELF A RIGHT TASTY TAT, THATS WHAT YOU WANNA DO. OIIIII MATE YOU A FARKING STUDENT, YOU BETTER OPE YOU AINT MATE, COS WE GIVE STUDENTS A RIGHT LONG TALKING TO WE DO BEFORE DOING FARK ALL (then all 3, in perfect sinque, start smiling, eyes closed, heads nodding, and extend their arms out infront, hands in handshake position and start walking forwards). ALLWIIGHT BIG HARD LOOKING BLOKE, WE'RE YOUR MUCKA WE ARE, YOU WANNA DRINK 'ARD BLOKE, COS IF YOU WANNA A DRINK WE'LL GET YOU A DRINK MATE, THAT'S WHAT WE'LL DO IF YOU WANNA A DRINK." Later on the 3 lads can be seen sat in their huge front room in a very comfortable looking detached house, with ludicrous comb overs, their father is stood infront of them, he starts to speak in a very plummy voice, "I've gathered you here, my sons, for 2 reasons, firstly to humiliate you by taking a family photo of you with your varyingly embarrassing attempts to fend off your rapid hair loss; and secondly to inform you that, the only one with a bit of a brain, Matthew, will be sent away to Grammar school and then he will go up North to, hopefully, toughen up a bit, any questions?". A timid looking Matt pipes up, "Yes Pa Pa", his Father replies, impatiently, "Well. Yes, what is it boy for goodness sake?", Matt, slightly teary eyed, continues, "Aren't Northerners all big working class, oafish yobs, who drink cheap Bitter, have heavy retarded looking eye-lids and like fighting?". Matt's father speaks whilst picking up a photo off their Chippendale desk, "Yes I'm afraid they are, they look like this (shows a picture, with 'Lee Feild' written underneath it). You must avoid or befriend these types of people and to win over the Northerners you must offer chaps who look like this (holds up a picture a total geek, who looks like he wouldn't have the strength to withstand the air from a toilet hand dryer, with the name 'Greg Turner' written underneath) outside and bring them to a place where no one can see you pay them to go home", Matt, nods, "Yes Pa Pa I'll do it". His Father then says, "now sing the Lords prayer, IN LATIN!" We then see Matthew at Grammar school, learning; authentic Cokernee; the creepy laugh; the high pitched rallying of the troops; the arm around someone for a private word technique; and most importantly of all, how to get stuck in while in a controlled manner. In this latter one we see Matthew being taught by warriors, versed in the most ancient techniques of a wide variety of Marshal Arts, how to; control his anger and channel it at a student; how to keep his temperature on the level; control his pulse and heart beat, whilst repeating his Mantra of "EVERY FARKING TACKLE, EVERY FARKING HEADER, EVERY FARKING CHALLENGE". What Matt was learning is whilst everyone else is perfectly in control and he is almost having a fit he's so worked up, he tells everyone THEY'RE out of control, but he CAN control it. We see the disappointment on Matt's face, when, he is tod he has failed this course because he can't control the pitch of his voice. The rest of the film as Matt journeys North is sure to pull at the heart strings of all Trinity fans, as we all know that he is now Trinity's great leader. There are more stories to come of course, but conscience of reader and his low attention span, we will limit it to these for now. Next time look out for Leroy, Rayon and Dennis, with Afro's in 1970's Blaxplotation film "Wassssup", where Dennis doesn't come off his phone for the whole 2 hour film, only for viewers to discover at the end that his battery was flat all along. Watch Leroy think he's landed a top modelling job and is going to be doing photoshoots with Kate Moss, only to discover that it's Calvin KLIEN she works for and not Calvin Calvin and witness Rayon wowing the ladies in a club with his dance moves, only for his trousers to rise up and everyone to see his 'Simpsons' socks and start howling with laughter; Tom Priestley in 1970's 'Love Thy Neighbour' type non-PC comedy; "Location Location Location"; See Neil Higgins and Gus in 'buddy' movie "Brokeback Mountneil"; and see the heart warming tale of a boy who was born a thalidomide but went on to defy the doctors and have huge arms, in "Jonesy's Bird's Got a Porsche". These are just a sample of the continue series in the extraordinary story about this great club, Trinity O.B. Until that time comes, get out there AND FILM YOURSELF SCORING A GOAL (If your called Robbie don't bother we haven't got that big a budget) Would any of these films get nominated for an Oscar? Which other Trinity stars would you like to see portrayed on the big screen? E-mail Trinity FC Online now with your views. |
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14 April 2006 GARTHantuan Knowledge We here at Gardiner's world love a good in-depth interview on some of footballing heroes. There's nothing more entertaining, informative, amusing and insightful than listening to footballers respond to some mentally stretching questions on their career/game/life/opinions on the team and the fans. Our respective pants, here at Gardiner's world, are then laden with cream when we hear the wide variety of answers come to questions such as "You won 1-0, you scored the goal, a good day?" ANSWER: "Well at the end of the day the three points are the most important thing, cos at the end of the day the lads 'ave given it everything, and (insert name as appropriate making sure you add a y at the end) has delivered a right ball and I've just been fortunate enough to get my foot on the end of it and luckily it's gone in. But at the end of the day we're delighted, so we're all looking forward to midnight, cos it's the end of the day". EXCELLENT, that sort of TV gold is our idea, here at Gardiner's world, of heaven. However these days the top stars get so much exposure, that even the most gifted of interviewers, are struggling to find new and challenging ways of asking them if they're looking forward to the World Cup/ playing in their first Cup Final/ Beating up some Asians on a Saturday night/shoving a vibrating mobile up their a*se, allegedly. We would hate this hugely entertaining way of getting to know the modern player, to burn out. That is why, here at Gardiner's World, we would like to propose another revolutionary idea. For us here at Gardiner's World, there is only one interviewer who can keep the great player interview fresh and exciting, you can keep your O.T.T enthusiasm of Andy Gray, your forced chuminess of Motty, your dour straight talkingness of Hansen and even your lame innuendoness of Lineker, give us the uncomplicated, man down the pub, why use one word when 308 will do, Garth Crooks. Here is a man who speaks the language of the man in the street, fair enough that man may be in a dressing gown and slippers and be giving off a powerful smell of urine and hospital ward, but nevertheless he is a man in the street. Crooks thinks outside the box, so far outside the box in fact that it is not a box to him but ‘a conceptual cuboid space, that can be both 3 dimensional and 2 dimensional, thus rendering it a mathematical peculiarity’. Now take this genius of the imaginatively posed question and place him and his weapon of choice, a microphone, in front of some of Trinity's finest and you have yourself a rejuvenated format that could well save the saturated interview market. We were so excited by this concept, here at Gardiner's World, that we used some state of the art technology, a computer, to set up virtual interviews between Crooksy and some of Trinity's greatest modern sons. What will eventually follow is little 1/2 question snippets from those interviews, enjoy, we did. Crooks: "Hey diddle diddle (dramatic pause, hands clasped together as if in prayer, leading out from his lip) the cat (moves hands away from face) and the fiddle, the cow jumped (pursed lips, smug I'm about to impart knowledge look on face) quite literally over the Moon. You'd just been punched in your gormless face by one of your own players as you were about to score, were you over the moon? (sit back dramatically in the chair enamoured by your own genius) Travers: "Well, to be fair to the lads, it was a tight game and at the end of the day Jim's delivered the perfect fist and all I've had to do is get me gormless face on the end of it, I mean I couldn't miss really". Well done Crooksy, you've managed to even make that divvy Travers sound interesting, next! Crooksy: "Aborigines, Kangaroo's, Ayers Rock, Alf Stewart, Galares, half wit's in tight denim shorts holdin' a stubby before boring you senseless about going bush in their Ute's, even though they live in a massive house in Sydney, backpackers boring you stiff with stories about how them and Drongo, Bushtucker Bob and Bludger got in a fight with 17 Thai kick boxers in Sri Lanka and kicked the f*rking sh*t out of the no good yahoo's. You got dumped on your arse by a defender resembling an E.C. butter mountain, how did that feel?" Scarsella: " (stubby in hand, sleeves cut off his check shirt, pornographically tight denim shorts on) Well to be honest with you Garrrrrthey the ball was there for the two of us to go for, and this f*rrrking bludger was tanking in at 7cm's a minute and I mean I've been in the bush and stared straight in the eyes of a f*rking wild boar and I knew what to expect from this fat galare. Turns out I was f*rking wrong and the fat b*rrrrrstard went and dumped me f*rking a*se up in the air, well at the end of the day mate you could have knocked me over with a Dingo's tail as he's only gone and done me ankle the b*rrrrrstard, fancy a cold one Crooksy you b*rrrrrrstard, Oi Shiela how about a couple of cold ones over here for me and this bludger, you blackie's are alright you know....". Another victory Croosksy, you made an Aussie sound intelligent, next. Crooksy: (brow furrowed in intense thought) No no (pause) no no no no no (lean forward with intent, gesturing towards the interviewee) no. There's no limit, and if you could permit me, no no limit we'll reach for the top. Is there no limit to the amount of curls you'll do?" (sit back at speed look away from interviewee and then back, lips pursed, as if to suggest, that question was so insightful I almost don't know where it came from) Jonsey: "To be fair to the lads I do like to do some curls, 'cos at the end of the day it keeps me away from the sit-ups and to be fair to the lads they know that if I wear a body warmer it covers me gut but you can still see me big f*cking arms, Crooksy. Here are you eating those chips? I need the carbs for me arms.". Crooksy you the man, you've managed to weedle out of Jonsey some top class, hitherto secret, training tips. Next! Crooksy: "(long excruciating silence as Crooksy sits deep in thought, then turns to the camera) Sorry I can not think of a single thing to ask him (then Crooksy gets up and leaves, camera flashes to the interviewee) Rogers: "What? Is that it? But I had a really good anecdote about this lecture I was late for...". Never mind Crooksy, even the greats go dry occasionally. Next! Crooksy: "(fingers massaging his temples, looking at the ground, slowly and in stunted form, Crooksy continues) In my house, where my wife sleeps, where my children come and play with their toys. (raises head and stares intently at the interviewee). You've got 30 cats and 30 dogs at your place, isn't that simply just a sh*t Zoo?" Macca: "To be fair to the zoo we've also got a Parrot, so you know at the end of the day that’s 3 different types of animal and to be fair to the zoo, me and the Missus have got loads of experience because we've owned our own cat and dog for a number of years now. The parrot's f*cked though." Crooksy: "(Again deep in thought, before lurching forward at the beginning of each point and back at the end), The Berlin Wall, The Star Wars Project, The Iron Curtain, Group 4, all examples of security/defence, you were dealing with a routine toe bung against Colton 8ths, (more intensely) what happened" Macca: "(bursting a spot on his face) I was confused by the unexpected straightness of it, I jumped up to head it on 7 separate occasions without any success and to be fair to their 42 year old centre forward he could really shift for someone on crutches. I looked back at Yatesy in goals and to be fair to him he's got involved in a chest off with a local Nun so he was out of the equation. I was just about to deal with the situation by putting my stupid arm down and stop shouting for offside and just as I was getting to the ball, fair play to Clubby he came out of nowhere, and smashed straight into me, which was amazing 'cos he was on a golfing trip that weekend. The two of us were on the floor, we got up quick as a flash, disorientated I ran out on to York Road and got hit by an Austin Allegro, and Clubby went through someone’s Patio doors. We heard later that the 42 year old outpaced O'Keefe and scored. But hey thats football, Crooksy you know it's cruel sometimes, would you like to see some puppies?". Excellent Crooksy, your in-depth questioning has uncovered the single-mindedness of a water tight defence, that, ironically, sprung a leak, BECAUSE of a bung! Next Crooksy: "(legs crossed, arms spread out over the back of the couch, fully relaxed)The House Doctor, Man about the House, House, on Channel 5, Little House on the Prairie, Our House in the Middle of Street. You looked like a Vicar trying to look hip on Location, Location, Location, could you Locate your pride after this TV debacle?" Camera pans out to show interviewee in a Boater, striped jacket and khaki slacks just pouring a drink from a jug, by what looks like a lake. Tom P: "Drop of Pimms player? Well I mean to be fair to the chaps and Intra Diem, ha, ha, that’s Latin for at the end of the day, (Crooksy nods smugly and knowingly), I mean as you can see the lads at Location, Location, Location have done us proud Intra Diem. I mean me and the wife (points to Anne)... Crooksy: "(Looking slightly startled) Oh I assumed because of her accent that she was staff" Tom P: "(wrinkling his nose in disapproval) Come on player. Anyway as I was saying Intra Diem, the wife and I wanted a bigger pond (points to what was assumed to be a lake), but over all the chaps done well. I mean the neighbours are first class and we love nothing more than to have a lovely dinner party at least once a week, this isn't going on that ghastly Trinity website is it? No good, anyway we were holidaying in the Hampshires, New England... (then some really loud voices could be heard) Oh dear must be some sort of Kuhm Mela festival thats gone off track, ANNE, ANNE, darling, release the hounds I think there are some Asians outside. (Suddenly a string of expletives can be heard and shouts of "Priestley you posh c*nt, send your Missus out here we'll f*cking sort her out for ya") Oh God! Anne, ANNNNNNE quick get me my Smith & Wesson, sorry Crooksy we'll have to terminate". Off camera shots and slavering hounds can be heard, along with shouts of "Ha, you missed me posh c*nt, you only got me f*cking head" and "yeah, you tell him Mick. Do you want me to wrap meself around your head and be your helmet, I'd do that I'd take a bullet for you Mick, I would". Crikey Crooksy, your unique way of questioning, your chummy everyman speak has even managed to get you the most precious of invites, the one that opens the Priestley gates. Once in you opened up Tom like a can of Caviar, to reveal to his fans, the previously unseen, he's the same as you or me, side, well done player. Crooksy: "(Crooksy, now levitating above the couch having reached a higher plain, is in a cross legged classic Yoga position) Evil Knevil, Chris Bonnington, Eddie Kidd, Patrick Swayze. These are all thrill seekers who will try anything to, try the undoable, (smug look to signify that he's just added another word to the English language) to get the adrenalin rush that come swith it. You were playing East Ardsley, near Bradford, in the penultimate game of the season, what happened? Robbie: "well, f*cking, nothing was, f*cking happening so I, f*cking, had to try something dint I. So I f*cking got the ball on the half way line and I f*cking thought to myself, f*ck it, yeah there's an easy pass on, but thats to f*cking Macca and if I don't give it to his f*cking shin he won't be able to kick it, so f*ck it. I lowered my hat over my f*cking eyes Jacko style and did a f*cking backheeler, it was so f*cking elaborate that the last person who tried it died, I just did my hamstring, 5 minutes into the f*cking game" Crooksy: "(brow deeply furrowed, he's reaching deep into the seemingly bottomless pit of his intellect, his eyes are firmly shut, suddenly, as if a light switch has been flicked on they open) Is it fair to say (thoughtful pause) that you looked a complete c*nt?" Robbie: "Yeah. Are you wearing f*cking sandals?" Crooksy: (now dressed in a white robe with loads of people wailing and chanting at his, sandaled feet. Speaks slowly dramatically pronouncing each word and pausing before saying the next) I - was - a - male - stripper - in - a - public - bar - I was - a - male - stripper - in - a - public - bar. Strip - for - me - babe - strip - for - you. I've heard your a bit of b*m bandit is that true" Neil: (wearing what looks like lipstick, speaks in a high pitched voice) How very dare you, I've never heard the likes, me dear no dear, I've never been so insulted, come on Gus we're leaving". With that Neil storms out, bringing his 'friend' with him. Crooksy: (now leaning forward like a slightly angered politician, saying names in a very determined way and also as if he's convinced he's the only person who knows them) The Dali Lama, David Blaine, Shoilin Monks, Marathon runners, people who do well on Celebrity Fit Club, these are all people renowned for their incredible self-discipline. You were playing Old Mods in a heated game what happened? Jordan: (voice high pitched in excitement, gets higher the longer he speaks) They were winning, yeah? They were trying to wind us up yeah? Our players were getting wound up, yeah? I just called on ancient methods of self-control yeah? So I told the players at half-time yeah? They want us to get involved with 'em yeah? Don't get involved with 'em, yeah? I can get involved with 'em, because I can control it yeah? Feel my pulse level yeah? feels like I'm barely alive yeah? Thats what I can do yeah? I can control it. Feel my forhead, yeah? It's over 30 degrees out here and feel that ice cold yeah, controlled. Put your head against my chest yeah? Barely beating yeah? I've been running about for 45 mins. I'm screeching in a high pitched voice and my heart is barely registering a beat yeah? Control yeah? They're looking over, yeah, they know me yeah, they know I'm in control. Then I noticed it had gone dark and it turns out the game had finished somtime earlier without me knowing it had re-started. The lads had come back to get a draw, but I was still in control (at this stage Matt's voice had got so high that all the sound crew had to quickly and looking in some distress discard their ear muffs). Is that Lenny McClean outside?" Suddenly Matt starts smiling and nodding and stretches out his hand and just marches straight through the wall in this manner. Yessss Crooksy, only you could get someone as controlled as Jords to open up in front of the cameras, YOU’RE the one in control. So much were we enjoying the interviews that we tried to arrange more, these didn't, as yet, come off. We tried to arrange one between Crooksy and Jamie but we couldn't get Jamie's head out of the fridge for long enough. Denis kept answering his mobile during his interview, even though mysteriously no one could hear it ring and Clubby spotted a ball just behind 2 of the camera men and came crashing through them to get to it, ruining lots of expensive equipment. But 3 cheers for man of the people Crooksy for his straighforward techniques getting so much out the players we love, here at Gardiner's world, as the great man himself might say, whilst clearly in the pose of ' The Thinker' "We'll meet again, don't know where don't when but I know we'll meet again some sunny day and until that day get out there AND SCORE A GOAL! Some interesting interviews. Who else would you like to see being interviewed? E-mail Trinity FC Online now with your views. |
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9 March 2006 The Trinity Book Club! Here on Gardiner’s World we are all avid readers of the Footballers autobiography. Granted you modern ones aren't as entertaining as one's from players who were at their peak in the glory years of football, the 70's, when English players didn't let the World Cup get in the way of telling us how they should have all got a 100 caps for England, playing in the same position. These days most players don't drink, they don't sh*g, they're not racist, they don't have hilarious stories about America; "they used to come to you and say 'HEY DON'T YOU HURT YOUR HEAD WHEN YOU DO A HEAD BALL", to which they inevitably had a witty reply, saying "depends how much I drank the night before" (before continuing) you see what they didn't realize is me Besty, Mooro, Ozzy, Bowlesy BLAH, BLAH, BLAH". Of course players now can't even bulldoze in some tedious anecdote about how they told Banksy he "should have caught that header offa Pele". These days footballers autobiographies tend to, rather boringly concentrate on players they worked with, managers they worked for, big games they played in and who they really liked and who they didn't and who takes a bloody good throw in. The 70's had Besty you see, and every book from someone from that era had a boring as f*ck anecdote to tell about how they were down the Old Kent Road and "Besty, right, Besty was with these two gorgeous blondes drinking champagne and I was sat in the corner on me own getting completely p*ssed so I could get the courage up to talk to a fat lass. Besty didn't know me" Such tales and witty exchanges; where the writer of the story always came out on top and despite displaying the wit and intelligence of Mick Toney's thicker brother, always seemed to have a quick riposte and an acidic put down at the ready; got us all here at Gardiner’s World feverish with excitement at the prospect of being the Ghost writer for some of Trinity's favourite sons. Not players like Dave Rogers, who would only be able to regale us with stories of how he slept in for one of his lectures, or Clubby who would be able to entertain us with stories of how he's a completely different person when he takes his glasses off and not the big stiff that everyone can see on his passport picture. Yes they will have good tales as 2 chatty, good humoured members of the team, but I'm talking old school, players who, despite being very much a part of the modern game, keep the spirit of the 70's bullsh*tters alive. We've got several ideas here for such novels and maybe some of the stories that may be contained within. Treat this as Trinity's Waterstones (that’s a bookshop Mark) and browse for your favourite. "When Push Comes To Shove" The Jimmy Yates story. This book will wow it's readers with first of all the transformation of tough guy Jimmy Yates, from a tough uncompromising full back, with a propensity for a mad, unnecessary, flick, who will chest anyone who dares to come closeish to his chest, to a tough uncompromising goalkeeper with a propensity for a mad unnecessary flick, who will chest anyone who dares come closeish to his chest. Yatesy's page turner will be discussed in pubs up and down the country because of it's inclusion of a list of Yatesy's favourite chest offs. " I remember their big centre forward had charged into me earlier, and I didn't forget. So when their little inoffensive winger accidentally ran into me as I outrageously stepped over a ball that was going out of play near the corner flag, THE RED MIST DESCENDED. Looking back I feel sorry for the lad now, especially as it turned out he was someone’s 9 year old son just getting the ball for me, but I marched towards him, chest puffed out to the full, you could see in his eyes he knew what was coming. I chested him so hard he almost took a backward step, then when he squared up to me I said "Oh yeah, yeah ,YEEEEAH, what you going to do". Lets just put it this way he didn't come anywhere my goal for the next 18 minutes. He later scored 3 and we lost 7-4, but word was out...". I think you'll agree exerts such as this guarantee it a place in Woolworth’s' up and down the country. We here at Gardiner’s World were also very interested to read that Wayne Rooney has just been signed up to a 4 Book deal, we all looked at each other here and said there is only one man who could carry that deal off at Trinity, yes Paul 'Macca' McIntyre. The first book, simply a book about Macca's childhood, would be called "Macca. The Asthma Years". Macca's heart-warming struggle in a one parent family, raised by his mad mum, would be an inspiring story to all sickly children whose parents wouldn't let their friends eat chips on their garden wall without making a big fuss. Here’s how a possible outtake might read: " I knew I wouldn't be going to school that day as I'd woke up with a wheeze, and there was a hint outside that it might rain. Mum was also out of Onions. But I so wanted to go in today of all days as my swim teacher had promised last week that I could go in the pool without arm bands and just use a float this time. Plus I was seriously jeopardising my chances of passing my A-levels later that year" Heart-warming stuff, but the struggles don't end there for Paul, his next book chronicles his late teens and early 20's and life away from home for the first time, called "Macca. A SPOT of Bother." Here's a piece you would more than likely hear reviewed on Newsnight: "Things were going just great, I'd joined a new football team, I'd had a night out and there was even a possibility of me making a friend, no more eating alone in the canteen, with the other students walking past going 'what did you get? I got the SPOTted d*ck' I KNEW WHAT THEY MEANT. As I say things were going well, when the phone call came...My mum rang me to tell me she'd had a dream and even as I dropped the phone and started to pack I could hear her saying 'No Paul, you didn't hear what I said, I dreamt I'd won the lottery, there really is no need to come home' I knew my place was by my mothers side. 9 days is a long time to be on your own" Such strong family ties and teenage difficulties will open Macca up to a whole new fan base. Next comes the tales of Macca's early days at Trinity, the glory of promotion, the humiliation of relegation, taking to the pitch with 8 men, all the stories of the great Trinity players he played with and the not so great and of course the finding of a kindred spirit. It's this lovely story that we've lifted from his imaginary book to let you digest here. "I'd always known my approach to defending was different, not for me the long clearance to safety, but the short one to the opposition so we could carry on defending. I was also a great believer in trying to con players on the opposition by standing 7-8 yards in front of them, with my back to my own goal, whilst they moved forwards and eventually passed me with the ball, as I shouted 'offside weferwee'. But my real favourite was piling into the back of an attacker as the ball went 20 odd yards over both our heads. I loved that. I never thought anyone else thought and played the same, until Martin Clubbs walked through the door. 6 minutes into his debut (we were losing 4-1) I said to myself "yes, here’s someone who is easily fooled by the flight of a toe bung too...we're gonna be just fine." Of course everyone remembers that hilarious scene in a Fulham match in the 70's when Rodney Marsh tries to tackle Besty, despite the fact, and here’s the rub, they're on the same team. Well Clubby and me do that most weeks, though no one seems to laugh at us." A warm hearted tale of a footballer who puts humour and friendship and a safe tap in touch, before glory. Many of the best autobiographies we've read here over the years have been written by winners, people with respect within the game, people who'll be listened too. That however hasn't stopped Matt Jordan releasing his story. Matt has of coursed dovetailed the jobs of skipper and manager for Trinity for 2 seasons now but has been an influential skipper for even longer. Matt's tough guy image isn't just an act on the footy field it extends to student bars up and down the streets of Leeds. Matt's book promises to be as explosive as his acceleration and lifts the lid off some Trinity management decisions AND some of their legendary, but until now kept in-house nights out. The working title for this masterpiece would be "YEAH, YEEEEAH, you a bit of a tough guy are you, show me your student ID and we can Dance" The cover shows a picture of a big, hard looking, tattooed, skin head and in the distance a little bald fella is heading towards him, eyes closed, knowing creepy smile and his hand outstretched. Here's how an outtake might read: " I was sat there relaxed taking it all in, I'd seen this sort of scenario 100's of times before. I clocked the room, I could see people were getting a little concerned by the 2 massive blokes with tats smashing peoples faces in for no reason, but I was too long in the tooth to fall for that old distraction tactic. I was simply going to laugh at all their jokes and buy them a drink and THEN take the REAL troublemakers outside for a 'chat'. That’s right they'd thought no one had noticed them, but I'd eye-spied (as we say darn sarf) the 2 of them, one dressed as Orville, the other as The Incredible Hulk, stuffing beer mats into their girlfriends bag. This was my muckers pub and even if it meant leaving my 2 new best mates on their own (which I was gutted about) and stepping over all the smashed up people on the floor, they were taking diabolical liberties and I wasn't standing for that. They didn't know what had hit em when I took em outside... and I actually did have a chat with em. When I paid for them to get into a club with me, they knew that their days of f*cking about in my mates pub were over...for that night." YIKES! Matt is the type of footballer we love he plays hard and he talks hard and we think for that reason his book would be a riveting read, filled with stories of handshakes, loud unnecessary laughter and nearly getting into fights, it'll be flying off the shelves faster than he flies into a tackle. There's little doubt that the Irish will always tell an empty room what great story tellers they are and we here at Gardiner’s World wouldn't dare enter into that room (for obvious reasons, "what’s in that ruck...BOOOM!!) and disagree. But we would gladly pick up a copy of Stevie Travers story from any bargain bucket (just under Dean Gaffney's Inside Story on the Club) and finally get round to levelling out that dodgy desk we've got. Brave Travers reckless disregard for his own safety would make for a fascinating book, where his on field scrapes would make even the most hardened reader (Birchy) wince. The book’s title would surely be "Playing Footy With My Stupid Face, GERTCHA". Here's one of our favourite imaginary outtakes. " To be sure Guv didn't I see the ball dere infront of the 'ol King Cole and sure all I had to do was head the dirty oul ting in te the empty 'Ouse Pet, when I caught sight of 'oul Mullers fecking hairy fisht and I thought feck scoring an 'Ol King Cole I'm going to throw me great big stupid 'oul State of Grace right at his Gorilla's in the Mist, so with a quick hop and a skip, 'Ol Riverdance styhile I splathered me great gormless mug against his Schindler's List and broke me feckin Fireman's. As I was walking over the Cork and Kerry mountains I spied a, Knees up Mother Brown, knees up Mother Brown, under the table you must go, when Irish eyes are smiling sure it's like a, ahhhh you won't stop talking why dont you give it a rest and Besty right, Besty was with these two gorgeous blondes...". The rest is some incomprehensible, but engaging blather about the Potato famine, the unbreakable spirit of the Underground sing-a-longs during the Blitz, families being forced out of their homes by the Black and Tans and Friday nights round the Joanna praising the Queen Mum. The only down side of the book is despite the dates shown underneath the photos they all look like they've been taken in the 1980's. Of course not all the interesting books that could be published, would be published by the 1st team squad. Now until recently we here at Gardiner’s World weren't even aware that there was such a thing as a 2nd team and we've certainly never spoke to any of them, but we've been reliably informed that there is and they know how to win on and off the field and apart from Lee, how to write. First book to take it's place in Texaco's 'free with every £5 spent on Petrol' offer will be Jonesy's much awaited secrets revealed book, "How to get Big Arms and a Big Gut - My Special Workout". This book will be a revelation to all young footballers who want to make an impression with a new team. Here are some sensational outtakes from this page turner, which is written in really deep print as whoever wrote it must be too powerful for conventional type; "I'd just been dropped off in my birds Porsche and I was seriously ready to lift a sh*t load of weights, do f*ck all sit ups and then have a load of pints and a couple of pies. I went into the gym and impressed everyone with me curls and not just the one I'd left in the toilet bowl after one of me pies, he he he. Anyway, I did about a 1000 curls on each arm and then I did one sit up. When will divvy managers realise that massive arms, not general fitness, are the most important things in football, I'm too f*cking advanced in me thinking for Niel, me. Mind you it's had an adverse effect on me w*nking as with arms this powerful I'd rip the f*cking thing off if I tried to have one now. Neil's a c*nt". Years ahead of his time is old Jonesy and that’s what makes it a wonderful read. He's not the only 2nd teamer to have poured it all out onto paper, the much loved and travelled Gus Martin has the potential to write a corking warts and all tale, under the title of "Flicks and Dicks. My 2 Favourite things in Footy". Gus's breathtaking account will leave even the most world weary journo's and sportsmen breathless, because of its insider knowledge, thanks to his Brazilian Football links and it's breathtakingness. Here's a bit we've just made up. "OOOOOOH, look at him in his tight shorts, I thought, I'll just let him run past me so I can get a good look at his bottom. I love footyball me all those lovely fella's running about in not very much, PLEEEEEASE. Tell you what as well I've got loads of insider knowledge me from travelling the big clubs of the country and teaching all their young kids to be annoying little back heeling pr*cks, who do 18 step overs before realising that they've gone off the pitch, and I'll tell you right now who to look out for, Wayne Rooney, yeah, when he leaves Everton he's gonna be huge, I'm getting huge just now thinking about it, NOOOOOO". Explosive stuff, Trinity's first out of the closet footballer revealing why he likes to, occasionally, turn up and play AND giving everyone an insider tip on the next big thing, WHERE CAN I GET A COPY? A similar book has also been penned by Trinity's 2nd team leader, Neil Higgins, entitled, "SHOUT AT HIM, and Tell Him to Give Me his Number, He's Gorgeous". As this is a family based web site we won't be able to print any exerts from this b*ttock gripping read because it's mostly about b*mming, which is a shame, cos it's a great tale written on lovely scented paper. Last but by no means least, another new arrival to Trinity has come up with a book that will no doubt be up there with anything Georgey Best could have produced, Mark Lumsden aka Plum in his soon to be best seller; "Mark Lumsden - An Autobiography". Don't start reading this one at night as it'll keep you up until the early hours, as, unfortunately because of the glue on the cover, it is unputdownable. Here is one of our favourite its for you to digest. "Match day. Got up at about 8.32am. Wandered down the stairs, 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9 ahhhh the hallway. Into the kitchen for me now, it's breakfast time. Think I'll have Cornflakes today with milk, make that cold milk. Just place that empty bowl and spoon in the dishwasher, save the missus a job ha, ha, ha. Right I think I'll just pop the telly on, see what’s on the old idiot box as I like to call it ha,ha,ha. Nothing much, ok then time to undo my trousers and get the old fella out and have a few strokes,1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9 ahhhhh, saved the missus another job. Typical Saturday morning" a mesmerising insight into the meticulous preparation of the modern footballer and one that is sure to be ritualistically followed by many an upcoming talent with their beady eye on 2nd Team football. We feel confident that it wouldn't be just Trinity fans who'd be greedily scooping up these incredible literary journeys, but football AND sport fans in general as each one offers a unique insight into, not just the demands of the game; the camaraderie involved, the amusing on/off field happenings; but into the inner most thoughts of these characters, who have, quite literally, opened themselves up like a book, without even knowing it (or consenting to it). Gardiner’s World promise to bring you more hot off the press books as they come to our attention, such as Mullers meticulous book on the importance of noticing absolutely everything that happens on the pitch, so that nothing goes beyond his analytical eye, entitled "Who Scored For Us Again?” Robbie's best seller, which reads like a book from the pen of young playboys like Best, Worthington, Marsh, entitled "F*cking Sl*gs". Tom's, quite frankly, life guide for the middle-class footballer, entitled "Play Up Chaps and Cut Out the Language". Here’s a a life changing exert "It was all a bit of a rush. I knew we were throwing a dinner party for 12 that evening, but our flight back from Brittany was delayed. I wasn't to worried though as, and if I know my guests they'll love it, as I'd picked up a rather nice vintage at a lovely delicatessen in Brittany, some Afghan Melon and some of THE most divine cheeses. Anne (providing she kept off the plonk so she could keep up the facade of being middle-class) was going to prepare the most wonderful piece of veal, I was very excited about the evening ahead as I'd just read Dovtoieski's 'The Idiot' and couldn't wait to belittle the working classes in the same way he did with my chums. Slowly the guests started to arrive, each one with a bottle, yummy, some super ones actually and Jim, dear dear Mullers, as a joke brought a bottle of Blue Nun, I loved the straight face he had when he gave me it, the price still on. Then I heard a terrible noise outside, I immediately thought, oh dear some coloureds have obviously got lost on their way to an all night rave. The air was pungent with expletives. To my enduring horror I looked out the window and I spotted Michael Toney and Mark Ryan waving bottles of White Lightning and Thunderbird and a copy of The Sport, they also had some big eared simpleton with them who I assumed must have come to tarmac the drive. "The lights Anne, the lights" I shouted, to late they were in. I knew then we couldn't show our faces to the neighbours ever again, so I got straight on the phone to Location, Location, Location and said "can you make me look a c*nt or your programme". Wonderful stuff Tom, a lovely look into the classier side of footballers lives. So remember next time your watch Trinity, there's a lot of stories out there on that pitch as well as skill, until next time get out there AND SCORE A PULITZER PRIZE WINNING GOAL So which Trinity player's autobiography would you like to read and why? E-mail Trinity FC Online now with your views. |
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22 January 2006 Sheikh Rattle and Rolled Gardiner's World would first of all like to apologise for it's enforced lay off. Our last article "A Captain’s Log" was so sensational that several people took legal proceedings and we had to give evidence to defend the good name of Trinity's posh "Dick Van Dyke type accent" leader Matthew Jordan. Eventually we had to admit to the whole thing being a load of b*llocks, except the bit about Neil being a big p*ff and we're not even sure if we put that in there. But if we did it's true, see you in court Neil. Court bent over in front of his boyfriend more like1 However that isn't the only reason why Gardiner’s world has been seemingly idle for the past couple of weeks, OH NO. We have embarked on a quite audacious 'Sting' that Paul Newman and Robert Redford would be more than a little proud of. We all know that the modern game is one of fake loyalty, greed, back stabbing, wheeler dealing and manipulation, but there are those we all hoped were above such things; die hard Leeds fan and midfield destroyer, Alan Smith; Ron 'Denis is lazy, and those other 2 don't know their names they all look alike to me and I brought em to this country in the first place, gis a job" Atkinson; Mick Toney (or Toady whichever you prefer, thank God Mark Ryan can't read) and of course dear ol 'Arry "twitch twitch, gotta get outta ere before, gertcha, that great big mincing woopsie, wotcher, Gus turns up, wiv his ol mucka Clifford, rabbit rabbit, to ave us running at 3 in the morning before losing to Plymouth" Redknapp. As we have discussed in this column before though, our heroes have a habit of letting us down. These aforementioned names are bywords for loyalty in an increasingly mercenary game and one name that could always be safely tucked in along side them without fear of him ever letting his teammates, colleagues, friends, fans or club down, and that name is of course Jim 'Mullers' Mullowney, unfortunately we have now reason to believe that Mullers maybe better known as 'Bullers(hit)' For many of you clinging to the ever fading hope that football still had some people within it's ranks that were reliable and involved only because of their love of the game and their undying loyalty to their club and it's supporters, people who wear old fashioned values like integrity, honesty, loyalty, friendship and hardwork; proudly as a badge on their p*ffed out chests and frown upon modern traits like; disloyalty, greed, dishonesty, transientsy; as a sad reflection of less cohesive age, this latest story maybe a bridge to far and your love affair with the beautiful, but damaged game, maybe over, I sincerely hope not. We had got wind of the possibility that the seemingly incorruptible Mullers is, maybe, well, corruptible. This news came from a disgruntled defender who, until recently, had felt hard done by in his lack of 90 minute opportunities afforded him by the austere Mullers. Whilst initially never doubting this decision was purely a footballing one and that however misguided he might feel Mullers was in his team selections, he never questioned his integrity. This all changed however when he was overheard on New Years eve boasting to impress girls about how many teams would love to have him in charge of them and would PAY TOP WACK for his excellent services, the conversation usually ended with "it's not just football clubs who'd pay top wack for my services..." Mullers went home alone. Intrigued by this news, Gardiner's World sprung into action and started thinking of elaborate ways that we here at Gardiner's World could trick the street wise, always cautious Mullowney into opening up and revealing his inner most thoughts. Eventually we thought of the previously unthought of Hannibalesque disguise and some booze to loosen those notoriously tight lips. We knew the man to pull this off for us was the master of disguise, the aforementioned defender who we can't name for legal reasons, but will be from here on in known as 'Napoleon'. Knowing that the disguise would have to be of the very highest quality if we were to fool the ever-perceptive Mullers. So we gave 'Napolean' a big wig to wear and a different shirt and told him to act like a big b*nder. After watching several hours of Neil mincing around, he was ready to pull off the role, and that wasn't all he pulled off our video revealed, of being a big p*fter who was going to get Mullers to 'fess up. Knowing how these 'Stings' go we knew we had to offer Mullers something enticing and extravagant, to lure him in. Gardiner’s World budgeted this story like no other and we can honestly say it was worth every penny. 'Napoleon' agreed to meet Mullers at Becketts Bank, Leeds, under the misguided knowledge that 'Napoleon' was a big q*een, with a soft spot for shaven headed hunks, who had an attractive footballing offer to make. After the initial worry that Mullers had seen through the disguise of Napoleon because of our inability, despite several hours in make up, to cover up his spots, the meeting was underway. Once the 3 for the price of 2 Barcadi Breezers started to flow so Mullowney’s thoughts on Trinity's players and his own future followed. His views will shock and offend many of you and will certainly defend all of you, private conversations were revealed and players backgrounds, attitude and happiness with the club were questioned, here is the transcript, N will represent Napoleons and M, the traitorous ba*tard Mullers. N: " I believe that Simon used to play in goal for you, he was a big boy, oooooooh, but he's been replaced by Yatesy, oooooh, and he's a huge boy" M: "Simon was our keeper yes, but he was sh*t so Bentley, the former manager, replaced him with Yatesy, cos he was being sh*t at left-back at the time. Yatesy comes from Manchester" SHEIKH NUMBER 1. Mullers with a complete disregard for his goalkeepers right to keep his birthplace secret, revealed where he was born to a complete stranger, dressed as a p*ff. Next to be scrutinised was popular Trinity player Martin Clubbs. N: "ooooooooh what do you think of Martin Clubbs then, he's just become a Dad hasn't he (at this point Napoleon purses his lips and and camply gestures towards his groin) proves everything is in working order. M: "Yes that’s right he has just become a dad. We usually call him Clubby you know. I think he once collapsed in a nightclub because he was out past 10.45pm" SHEIKH NUMBER 2: Mullers shamelessly reveals changing room nicknames and Clubby's suspect ability to last until last orders on a night out, just 'cos some fake b*nder was giving him the eye. Next to be scrutinised was Trinity rock Tom Priestley. N: "Tom ooooooh he's a nice boy isn't he, pity about that gobby scouser he landed himself with, I certainly wouldn't mind playing Lilly Savage for him, oooooh." M: "Ha ha, yes very good banter. Tom is quite posh, but that helped him come across as a likeable snob on Location Location Location. He's a good player and good in the air, I'm sure if I was to move teams he would gladly go back on Location Location Location again so he didn't have to pay Estate Agents fees and move with me. He's from Derby you know" SHEIKH NUMBER 3: Mullers rubs Tom's face in the piece of sh*t that was his TV career and then proceeds to slag the big posh tw*t off by describing him as "good in the air". With no hint of remorse he then goes onto reveal personal details about his birthplace and BOASTS that Tom would follow him wherever and he USED Location Location Location to get out of paying agent fees. We here at Gardiner’s World are sure that Tom will have something polite, but poshly firm to say to Mullers next time he sees him, like "I didn't realise you drank in Becketts Bank". Next up Trinity stalwart, Macca. N: " oooooooh, Macca he's one of your best players he is and he's ever so hunky, in his ever tightening shirt, I wish he was in the starting line up every week (Napoleon playfully slaps Mullers on the arm) and quite a few of my friends do if you know what I mean (Napoleon winks)" M: " Christ I can't believe you like that spotty c*nt, he's a divvy. If he's not running into Clubby for no reason, he's booting it at some passing pedestrian, or heading it past Yatesy. The sooner he fu*ks off to his kennels the better" At this point our reporter, who was now sweating quite profusely, looked visibly upset and shaken, so he made his excuses to go to the toilet and compose himself. This part of the interview was scandal free as Macca seemed to be spared Mullowney's scandal ridden tongue. Our reporter returned, luckily Mullers was starting to get quite inebriated and hadn't noticed our undercover reporters make up was running around the eyes. N: " oooooh how about that Dave Rogers then, I like em young and hairless AND hollow chested" M: "Who?" SHEIKH NUMBER 4. Mullers can't even be bothered to remember one of his own players, Dan Ragers will be rightly peeved. Next, Mark Ryan N: "ooooh what about that Mark Ryan, I like em all thin and wiry, don't you? It's even better when they're not to bright, I can think of a lot more things to do with him than talk (another playful slap on the arm for Mullers)" M: "Yes he is very thin isn't he, but that seems to help his stamina, which is very high (N: "ooooh, I bet he has"). As for him being thick I wouldn't know too much about that but his parents are Irish" SHEIKH NUMBER 5. Mullers not only suggests to a q*eer that one of his team has got lots of stamina, but he also blames his astonishingly low intelligence on the fact that his parents are Irish. Bad move Mullers, once the patriotic Micks get hold of the internet you will be inundated with illiterate ramblings about the potato famine. Next up Matt Jordan. N: " Oooooh, I like him he's a bit hunky and aggressive, I tell you what I'd like to hear those unnecessary grunts, when he goes up for a header, in a different environment, eh, no shush your face, ooooh you are awful. I like the way that despite the fact that his parents spent a load of money on his education in Slough, he still acts like a real tough cockerneeey, he reminds me of Ross Kemp in Extras, he does, and I tell you what Mullers I'd, ahm, GRANT him permission to do anything he wanted, ooooooh, stop it you (harder playful slap)" M: "Ha ha yes very good. Well the thing is despite the fact that Matt did go to a posh fee paying school, I really do believe he is quite hard (N: "OOOOOOH, I bet he is") and he certainly is on the pitch (N: " OOOOOH all those tight shorts I bet he is"). Plus off the pitch I've seen him threaten several I.T. students and Theology students and they always look quite scared and even though nothing ever comes from it he always sounds convincingly hard for the 3 hours he's telling them what he'll do to them. He's going to be a Dad soon, I hope that doesn't quell his desire to win ha ha ha ha, just my wicked sense of humour there." SHEIKH NUMBER 6: Wicked indeed Mullers, suggesting that Jordans child might start to be the boss of HIS house. I doubt tough guy, dancer, Matt Jordan will take kindly to that suggestion. You may thank your lucky stars that your student days are over Mullers, or your safety would be in serious doubt. Plus casting aspersions over Matt by suggesting that it's only students who are under threat, no one is safe from his creepy laughter and handshakes, you may regret THAT Bicaradi Breezer the most. Next The Birch. N: " OOOOOOOh, I like him with his long hair, casual attitude and flip-flops, I tell you what I wouldn't have a flip-floppy, hey ooooh, shush your face, if I was in the showers with him." M: (now on his 3rd Bicardi Breezer and with his arm around our undercover reporter, who has just applied some more oxy 10)" Your my best mate you are, my bessed f*rkin mate, and then it's hic, Beechy. He might not be inderested in tarkling but he can f*rking kick sa ball at the goal, you b*sssterds, and he's my mate and he can pass the f*rking thing, (Mullers looking at no one in particular then goes) "Wad you lookin at ya b8rrssteds, (before knocking his drink on the floor)" SHEIKH NUMBER 7: Mullers forgets old friendships formed over the years to bump Birchy, whose name he can't even remember, to top of his list, after our p*ffy reporter. This proves his fickle nature. He also seemingly encourages players encouraging others to get h*rd ons in the shower, people who've been bringing their kids to watch Trinity for years will be shocked at this new policy, does this mean Neil and Gus could soon be back in the 1st's? Next Gardiner. Our secret reporter took Mullers for a quick walk and some special sort of shandy, down an alley way, to sober him up before returning to the pub. N: " He's a bit of c*nt isn't he?" M: " It's not his fault he works with spackers, tell you what though he's one of the best players I've ever coached, and I've worked with O'Keeffe, Barrett, Players that other players have brought along and said he'll help us out if you need someone, he used to play semi-pro, not sure what sport though, can he play in his Brogues? So I know what I'm talking about" SHEIKH NUMBER 8: Mullers openly slates one of Trinity's former boot sponsors, brogues, before revealing that Gardiner maybe of low intelligence because he's tried to put something back into the community by helping young adults, who can't control their bowels, well if only he could have been there to help Macca a couple of years back things might have been different. We at this point thought if Gardiner's getting it the neck then surely no one is safe, least of all that ar*ehole Travers. Next Robbie P N: " OOOOOh bulbs, he's one of my favourites, those lovely big googly eyes and he's dead popular with all the young gays, I mean guys, isn't he, well at least when he can give em a lift. Tell you what he can pick me up by the side of the road anytime , nooooooo, beeeehave" M: "Yes he's always willing to help is Robbie. He's one of our most exciting players on his day. It's such a shame he's had so much trouble with his hamstrings, and ha ha if only ha ha he could score a goal, we have some fun about that in the changing room, I say " hey Rob you gonna score ON the pitch" and everyone cracks up" SHEIKH NUMBER 9: Mullers reveals hilarious, secret Trinity banter, what if some stand up comic such as Duncan Norvell gets hold of that, he'll rip Robbie apart. Mullers also questions Pearson’s hamstrings, suggesting that he's incapable of an unnecessary back healer without causing injury to himself. Well this dig might well BACK fire on you Mullers. Next Travers N: "OOOOOOH I lurrrrve this guy, that lovely Cocknerish accent and his never changing quiff, ooooh lovely. He's ever so brave as well, I tell you what he can show me his shamc*ck anytime ooooh do shut up you" M: "Yes Stevie is a brave centre forward isn't he? You know he scored over 30 goals for us just a couple of seasons ago and he's still going strong. He's not afraid to throw his gormless face into a defenders boot ha ha, only joking. Hopefully he'll be able to finish games more regularly without having to head to the airport and who knows if he can maybe we'll be, ahm, flying high." SHEIKH NUMBER 10: Mullers cracks sh*t gag, calls gormless faced Travers gormless and then sl*gs him off for wanting to go back to his adopted homeland, Eire, every once in a while. I tell you what Travers infrequent visits to the home of the gormless face, maybe become frequent when he's read these unjustified criticisms of Mullers. Our undercover reporter has now noticed that Mullers is getting increasingly p*ssed and frisky. N: "What about the Tank, ooooooh, that Dennis, he's a bit of a hunk isn't he. I tell you what I wouldn't mind ensuring that his halo slipped occasionally. He could score with me anytime he could I tell you, noooooo, beeehave." At this point Mullers is slurring his words. M: "She was the only girrrl I effer loved, you basssterrdsss. I do anyfing for denish I would, including lesh himpay £2.50 shubs, (Mullownely staggers to his feet) AND ANYONE WHO SAYSH DIFFERENDELY BESSHER BE READY FOR A FIGHT (Mullers then staggers in to another table knocking all the drinks over, before tumbling to the ground). He's a cracking lad he ish, but he needsh to shay in on a sashurday, hic, I mean a Frishay night, cos if he goesh out on a Sasherday night instead Jorjan, Math Jorjan will pay for him. Buth you know heeesh a young lad int he" SHEIKH NUMBER 11: Mullers condemns Dennis's lifestyle of going out getting drunk and pulling loads of birds, when he goes out and gets p*ssed and sometimes gets a take-away, himself, HYPOCRITE. Plus Mullers senstionally reveals TWO Trinity secrets and thus compromises, noy only Dennis's confidence in his manager, but also Dennis popularity in the changing room as he is paying less subs AND and Jordan as a potential sugar daddy. He also questions Dennis's professionalism saying that he gets drunk before games, based on the dubious evidence that he does. Well when Dennis hears these revelations Mullers may have to do more smooth talking than Dennis does on his Friday nights out to rekindle this relationship, and even though he's never off his f*cking mobile he may well find that Dennis IS off it when he rings. Next up Leroy. N: "OOOOOOH what a hunk, he's ever soooo muscular. He's got loads of tricks on the pitch hasn't he, I wouldn't mind showing him a few tricks off it, PLEEEEASE." M: (soberer) " He's a great lad is Leroy, works hard every week for the team and your right lots of tricks. I think we've yet to see the best of him, though" SHEIKH NUMBER 12: Yet to see the best of him YET TO SEE THE BEST OF HIM, well I think he might be glad to see the back of you Mullers after this betrayll of confidence. Leroy is unlikely to be pleased by the revelation that he has a trick or two as well, I mean Clubby has got a trick or 2, he can shim it in touch and but forwards from behind, ARE YOU TRYING TO SAY THAT LEROY IS THE SAME AS CLUBBY MULLERS WELL ARE YOU. The answer to that is we don't know as this is how the interview ended. M: (Leaning in and speaking behind his hand) "Hey are you g*y yeah?" N: "OOOOOH I'm as g*y as Pete Burns's lips" M: "Right you don't fancy coming back to mine and giving me a right good bumming do you you spotty c*nt" N: OOOOOH I thought you'd never ask to see my BONERpart" With that our reporter made his excuses and left...... with Mullers! Some of you may question the timing of this article with Trinity having one of their most successful seasons ever in the cups, but we have a ethos here that states when Trinity is bigger than any scandal, and when we feel someone is trying to rock this great old noble club, we take a stance and report and if all of this proves to be false, we will still stick by the fact that Travers has got a gormless face, so until next time get OUT THERE AND SHEIKH THE OPPOSITION UP BY SCORING A GOAL! Controversial stuff indeed! Does this spell the end for Mullowney? E-mail Trinity FC Online now with your views. |
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27 November 2005 Explosive stuff Whilst Trinity were, rightly, basking in the glory of a record breaking victory over old foes Collegians, everyone here at Gardiner's World were reeling in shock at TWO explosive videos that were handed in to us just hours after the game. These videos are so explosive and controversial that we all solemnly promised to never let them see the light of day and would merely write a blow by blow account of everything that was said on them instead, as none of the individuals mentioned in the screen footage deserve to see themselves being castigated like that, BUT they at least deserve the chance to read about it and have their family and friends do the same. The first video came to us as a result of a new feature Trinity's excellent and ever advancing website was trying to introduce, Captains Log, a videoed interview where Trinity's much respected, Grammar school educated, captain, Matt Jordan, spouted off his views on everything from the last game, individual performances etc right through to the best Ginsters produce on the market at the moment. It became clear after several hours of self-obsessed droning that this video was going to be too explosive to ever be aired, and the chain had to be pulled on this Captains Log. However some unidentified little weasel, with a balaclava on and some sort of thyroid problem because of his large googley eyes bulging through the balaclava, dropped the video off to us saying "I know I shouldn't be doing this, but I've not got a bird anymore so I'm not bothered". When we sat down here at Gardiner's World and listened to the video we couldn't believe our ears, literally at times as we didn't believe a man could reach such a high pitch when excited. Here are some of the exerts from the video, we promised never to air, it's not for the faint hearted, or the gays, so Gus, Neil and Jamie’s "new friend" turn away now and carry on putting your make up on. Jordan on Yates: " He thinks he's the team tough guy because he landed on a black dwarf when we played Medics and once chested someone 7 years ago, but where’s his cheap as f*ck leg tattoo EH, EH? I'll tell you not on his leg that’s where, or anywhere else. I mean this big a*sed ponce isn't even good enough to wash the kits properly, and that’s not a criticism that, sadly, is a fact. If he doesn't get his act sorted out soon I'm gonna shove a student ID in his hand and ask him if wants to step outside. He makes a meal out of some of his simple saves and judging by his a*se when I'm up the other end charging into the corner like a mad b*stard, he's eating that meal" OUCH! Jimmy 'Stay out of my house' Yates heroics in goal counted for nothing for privately educated captain Jordan, NEXT. Jordan on Clubby: "He's my type of player, he'll charge 20 yards into their half to foul an overweight fullback who's only contribution up to that point was a foul throw. But for me he's taken his eye off the ball in recent weeks. You could always rely on Martin to be a dedicated club and family man, wearing safe, well ironed head to ankle denim, but these days it's 'When you realise' T-shirts and Hugo Boss fleeces and £25 hair cuts, which is going to end up costing him £185 a week. As a result there can be no doubting the fact that his eye has gone on the ball and off the man as he's now, unsuccessfully, trying to kick the former and miss the latter. Furthermore, everyone knows I'm the one who brings along the creepy brother to nights out to tell everyone how great I am, and if Martin thinks he can encroach on my territory with some big eared village boy he's got another thing coming, cos if they fancy it some time I'll shove a student ID in each of their enthusiastic little hands, and then we'll see who comes back inside. Don't get me wrong I admire the fact that him and Macca try and revive the old musical hall traditions of physical comedy, and the panto school of defending "HE'S BEHIND YOU", but ditch the fashion and get back to basics, cos these days forwards are getting to big for you to mark" OOF! Martin's willingness to put his body on the line for Trinity week in week out counts for little in the eyes of privileged upbringing, Jordan, so 'when you realise' that Martin maybe you'll change. NEXT. Jordan on McIntyre: " He's been around so long he seems to think that football's not important anymore. It's all about his stupid patchy beard, what he's done with his hair, his Real Madrid thong and the fact that he thinks he's Kevin Bacon. I'll tell you now the only thing footloose about this guy is... He seems more concerned with diving about like a divvy than playing like a divvy, which is what we expect from him. He can't even be a*sed starting a game these days, coming on as and when he pleases, I mean how on Earth is Clubby meant to play the worlds worst offside trap if Macca can't be f*cked setting foot on the pitch, he's not daft enough to think Tom will stand 10 yards in front of a forward with his arm in the air letting said forward charge un-attended towards goal only to be chested into tomorrow, is he? Is he? Is he b*llocks. Forget the Kevin Bacon image Macca and get back to making a Pigs ear of simple clearances and rash(er)ly booting it in touch when the nearest opposition player has past out some 40 yards back. Sort it out you bearded c*nt, I didn't join this team to butter my own f*cking sarnies." POW!! Jordan has felled the twin Towers of Trinity with one (areo)plane talking outburst. Matt's fee paying education ensured an articulate destruction of one of Trinity's favourite sons. NEXT. Jordan on Rogers: "Who's he?" Jordan On Priestley: "I don't why people on Location Location Location rave about him so much, he doesn't do it for me. Whilst we're out there trying to make this club successful he's on TV going "YESS! It's an extender". That f*cks me right off. Mick Toney might be thick as f*ck but he got it spot on when he came out with something incoherent last season, that had to be translated by one of the educated working class lads in the team (you don't get them down South, they're just called Middle Class), Gardiner I think it was, he told me that Mick said "Shut the f*ck up Tom you posh c*nt" and Mark Ryan added "YEAH!" (Mark then proceeded to his pantomime cow impression and put his head up Mick Toney's arse). That’s right Tom why don't you shut the f*ck up and stop wittering on about house prices and how the kit doesn’t fit round your, too many dinner parties that none of us get invited too, gut and do what you pay to do, kick it far and head it not very far, unless you’re near the opposition goal. It seems to me that you only have to play one game for this club to pay £5, it's f*cking ridiculous. And stop turning up in a flash car and then getting out dressed like a Geography teacher going on a Religious retreat, you c*nt". SMASH. Not even someone with a similar silver spoon background to Trinity's uncompromising skipper is spared the lash of the wannabe cockney tongue. NEXT. Jordan on Leroy James: "What I'll say to this kid is get some decent sh*t on your i-pod, there is nothing more embarrassing than a young inner-city black man thinking he's cool listening to hip-hop, 50 Cent, Eminem and other Gangsta rappa's, leave that to the balding, portly, middle class, house owners and don't embarrass yourself, yeah? If you want some cool urban music to get you in the mood before a game, why don't you just ask, I've got the best of Aswad, Eddie Grant and Was Not Was on cassette, so why don't you 'step over' and ask me for some of that sh*t" TAKE THE NEEDLE OFF THE RECORD, Leroy MC Matt has spoken. Grammar school Matt feels the pain of the LA gang bangers better than anyone, in his opinion. NEXT Jordan on Gardiner; "Keep it up Chris". YIKES. NEXT. Jordan on Mullers: "He should play himself more often. I hear that his old Sunday team are struggling" SMACK. NEXT Jordan on Birch: " Poncing in to the changing room with flip-flops on, no no no no no, think your on the beach do you? Then on the pitch, did you get lost son, wandering into the centre circle for our kick off, which shortly follows the opposition’s first shot, oh dear. Take a leaf out of your team mates books, no flashes in your hair, sensible shoes/trainers (Martin O'Keefe would be turning in his gout ridden cord spats if he could see this, and if he could turn), most of all don't try and look like a footballer for f*cks sake. No wonder you’re scared of the opposition they want to sh*g you cos you look like a big girl, and it's not just the opposition..." BOOM. Despite coming from a wealthy background Matty clearly thinks little of people who like the finer things in life, like council estate hair colouring and flip-flops, IAN clearly has a lot to do to impress his skipper, despite an excellent beginning to his Trinity career. NEXT. Jordan on Mark Ryan: " This skinny little weaselled faced c*nt runs around like a nutter, obviously trying to find his dwarfish b*m chum Mick Toney, who used to tell him when to pass, when to shoot, who to pass too (always him and never Travers) and when to w*nk him off. Well here’s a news update you Ethiopian, I'M THE SKIPPER I CALL THE SHOTS, YOU DO AS I F*CKING SAY, so you pass to me and I'll batter it straight at the keeper from close range, that’s the way it works around here.". UMMPH! Mark's 100% commitment to Trinity, putting every ounce of his 18 pound frame in to tackles and covering every blade of grass, clearly doesn't cut the mustard with the high standards Matt was taught to aspire to during his expensive days in fee paying education. NEXT. Jordan on Katoro: "This guy makes me sick, he wanders off the pitch in a casual fashion after a game and straight onto his mobile phone, whilst I'm trying to tell people to vote for me, he's texting some imaginary friend. I'll tell you something else as well if he thinks football is all about cool finishing and scoring sh*t loads of goals he's got a lot to f*cking learn, he could do with taking a leaf out of my book when I played upfront, I didn't score 7 goals in a season by f*cking texting people I'll tell you that much, I did it through hard work and mediocre finishing. Here’s a text message for you Katoro, U R a TWAT." KERPOW. Goal machine, love machine, defence wrecker, heart breaker and all round popular guy Katoro's sensational efforts for Trinity have still not saved him from the wrath of silver spooned Matt's savagely well educated tongue. NEXT. Jordan on Travers: "This fake Paddy is too interested in having a knees up, to be effective for the team. When he's through one on one with the goalie, rather than tucking it safely into the net like he used to in the old days when he terrorised Sandal etal, he now tucks his arms in by his side and gives a quick rendition of the Lambeth walk, whilst waffling on about jellied eels and then fires it straight at the keeper. Once he used to throw his big stupid face into opposition players boots, defenders elbows, goalkeepers punches and Mullowney's fist, like a great big loveable divvy. However, this season he hasn't bust his big stupid face open once, now if that’s not a sign of some flash Southerner, what is, certainly not me that’s for sure. He seems oblivious to the fact that the vast majority of his team mates would love to see that big gormless face smashed up again, and no he can't count the bust nose against Western Juniors 'cos I wasn't there, and nothing matters if I'm not around." BAM! Incredibly popular, brave, deadly forward Stevie Travers' eye for a key goal, record breaking feats and determination don't cut it for someone with Matt’s Rugby Union background, it's put your face in the firing line OR ELSE! NEXT I think our reader will agree that this is truly controversial stuff, Jordan's unquenchable thirst for success, an attribute of several fee paying schools alumni, has led to him questioning and criticising ALL Trinity's first team squad. This also is just the stuff we thought we could print, we didn't feel it was right to print the bits where he called Birch "a c*nt", Priestley "a great big t*rd", Katoro "obsessed with blokes ar*es and b*mming" and Travers "A check check shamon muthaf*cka". Will Jordan’s explosive words have the desired effect on everyone and drive Trinity to un-matched success, or will everyone ignore it like his last minute team talks, WATCH THIS SPACE as, as always, Gardiner’s World promises to keep you up to date, when we can be a*sed. So until next time GET OUT THERE AND SCORE A GOAL ON CAPTAINS ORDERS! Explosive stuff indeed! Is this criticism of the Trinity players justified? E-mail Trinity FC Online now with your views. |
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28 September 2005 Fame It seems barely a week goes by these days without one of our icons being dragged through the media gutter. Often their crimes are nothing more than being weak and vulnerable human beings, something everyone (bar Lord Jords) can be found guilty of. Here on Gardiner’s world we have looked down over the years and seen some of our favourite celebrities fall from grace and as a result get gobbled up by the media vultures, their frail carcasses picked asunder. I’m talking George Best, Paul McGrath, Alex Higgins (there only crime being self-destructive egotistical thick Paddys), Julie Goodyear, that guy on Blue Peter who used to be a trampolinist but had done some gay porn in his past (but wasn’t gay apparently), Richard Bacon and of course Cheggers. All these celebrities have several things in common; a God given talent, a desire to be loved and give pleasure to the public (you are and you have guys, and God bless you for it). The latest icon to be targeted by the frankly tenacious media Newshounds, is the wonderful, fragile, beautiful, stylish, graceful, crack whore groupie Kate Moss. Whilst no one at Gardiner’s world condones drug use in any form, unless it’s to have a good time, we can’t help feeling that Kate has been the victim of a witch hunt on a par with some of the witch hunts that took place when people believed in witches. Kate’s only mistake, as far as we can see is being the mother of a small child who likes to take illegal drugs and if that’s a crime then hang her from the nearest tree, but if, as we expect, it’s not, then don’t. What has this got to do with Trinity, I hear our reader ask, good question loyal reader, and as with the 3’s of questions we receive each week here at Gardiner’s world, we will answer it. It is to point out that fame and popularity are fickle creatures, cruel Mistresses, errant children beyond our control, as easy as they can be seen to arrive they can be taken away. Now several of Trinity’s players are held in high regard, popular both within and without the club, and they are rightly riding the crest of the wave that being the flavour of the moment brings with it. But this wave can be rode but lets also remember that if a wave crashes down on you it hurts, leaves you disorientated, lost, alone and vulnerable. Lets look at some of the Trinity icons. Denis Katoro. Denis has thrilled Trinity fans all over West Yorkshire for over a season now, and looks set to continue his excellent form of last season this time around. Denis has brought great joy to all concerned with Trinity and great misery to all who have stood in his way on the pitch. He is also a popular and much loved figure off the pitch as the constant use of his mobile phone whilst people are trying to talk to the ignorant f*cker shows. But what if Denis was to be spotted letting some pi**ed up divvy get in through the Fire Exit door into a club, thus not having to cue like everyone else. What’s the problem Mr. Bigshot queuing to good for you now you’ve scored a couple of goals, think you can do as you fu*king well please, other people in the cue beneath you are they, you make me sick, if it wasn’t for those hard working people queuing up to get into that club, idolising you, you wouldn’t be, well idolised. The headline would/should read “Katoro The C*nt To Big To Queue”. Think on Dennis as Human League said “I took you up I took you out and turned you into someone new…and I can put you back there too” and at least that woman was a cocktail waitress before she made it, what have you got Katoro some poxy course in Bradford, oh dear. Tom Priestley. Last years deserved winner of Player’s Player of the Year, is a dominant force on the pitch and highly likeable one off it, who despite just one season in the Trinty ranks has managed to become one of the most popular figures to turn out at St.Theresa’s in recent times. However if footage of Preistly being a big boring middle class tw*t, who probably doesn’t want any Asians living next to him and waffles on like a big dull c*nt about dining tables, was to resurface, Priestley might find his future career limited to Celebrity Council Estate, with Dean Gaffney, Bunny from Eldorado and someone from Brookside after people stopped watching it. That’ll teach the big p*nce a thing or two about ‘reality’. If people see that big snob Priestley doesn’t want any of the people he’s a hero to living near him, he’ll find his popularity disappearing faster than Gareth Curran’s after Matt Hansen arrived on the scene, and look what’s happened to him, fighting like a f*ggot in a g*y club with the softest member of the Kissane family. Don’t forget the roots of your fans Tom, and forget yours, otherwise you’ll be joining Mr. ‘No queue’ Katoro on the where are they now list. Neil Higgins. After 2 highly successful seasons in the Trinity set up as a midfield schemer, Higgins became an integral cog in the Trinity midfield machine with his uncompromising, no prisoners style, and ability to keep possession regardless of how scary looking the opponent was. Neil took this uncompromising style off the pitch as well and this, along with his gregarious nature led to him being as popular off the pitch as he was valued on it. Neil would be in most of Trinity’s trench XI, especially if the enemy was made of Glass or Pyrex, Neil also almost became Trinity’s second tattooed player, but was talked out of it by club diplomat Robbie Pearson. But if it was to be revealed to Neil’s adoring public that he was a big sunbed visiting p*fter, how does he honestly think that Joe Public would respond to his f*ggoty ways, I’m sure they would “shout at him”, ‘OI NEIL YOU BIG SUN BED VISITING SH*RT L*FTER’. Think on Higgins being a big f*ggot didn’t allow you to become one of the most popular Trinity players of recent times, and earn you the honour of leading the first ever Trinity second team and breeding ground for the future and safe home for the much loved Trinity veterans, Martin Clubbs and Paul McIntyre, where they can happily clash into each other in a comical fashion until well into their late 40’s. Play straight with Joe Public Higgins or your popularity could get B*NT all out of shape. Which brings us to a couple of true Trinity legends, who have over the years truly earned the adulation of Trinity’s fans, unlike the aforementioned trio, these two have been there when Trinity were at their lowest ebb and although they were more than talented enough to go to, at the time, better quality teams, they remained loyal to Trinity and maintained a high level of performance, when others around them were failing. The Trinity of today owes and continues to owe a great deal to these two legends. I speak of course of Sir Matt Jordan and The Duke of Spit Robbie Pearson. These two true icons of not just Trinity but the Old Boys league deserve to bask in the warm glow of the adulation they have earned over the years, in the same way that ones basks in the warm glow after having a p*ss in the bath. They have truly earned the right to wallow in continued praise. However these two greats would do well to remember that the British public love nothing more than to see legends fall by the way side, and when you’ve been around as long as these two have, there are inevitably skeletons in the closet. If it was to be released to the press that Matt Jordan likes to offer young men outside for a dance, preferably around a corner where no one can see, then he might find his iconic status, and the high regard that players of all ages hold him in starts dwindle faster than a students enjoyment of a night out when they see him heading towards them. Jordan may live the ideal life, player/captain/manager, with a lovely wife and a child on the way, a family man, who has all the trappings associated with an idyllic life. But heed thee well Sir Matt of aforementioned celebs who’ve fallen by the wayside, you could easily be glad of re-introducing Mr. feet up on the new leatherette couch Mullowney to your abode, as your family could be ripped apart by this scandal. Your days could easily be lived out as Leeds’ answer to the odd couple, two elderly men, complete with comb overs, squabbling over who should do the washing up. So protect the flame of fame whilst it burns brightly, because it could easily be ‘danced’ out. As for Pearson his crowd pleasing attacking mentality, willingness to, and consistently succeed, in taking on his opponent, has rightly made him the darling of the Trinity faithful for as long as most fans can remember. There is barely a defender in the Old Boys League who hasn’t been left in Pearson’s wake, and there will be more to join this dissatisfied club I’m sure. However, Pearson might find he’s the one who could be left on his a*se looking embarrassed if the wider public were ever to find out about the fact that he does sh*ts so big that they can’t be flushed by a conventional lavatory. If there is one thing the adoring Trinity fanbase will not ‘cater’ for it’s a large un-flushable sh*t. This will suggest to the public that Pearson is living the high (fibre) life a little too much, at the expense of his team, and his flatmates. What is Robbie too big a star for a normal sized sh*t, you have to do one that dominates the Armitage Shanks landscape ‘cos your such a big f*cking prima donna. Word of warning Pearson tone down your deposits or you may find your star is far from to large to be flushed down the toilet by the collective hand of the people who put you on the ‘throne’ you’ve occupied for so long. All the above ‘starts’ of Trinity, could learn a valuable lesson from one of it’s former favourite sons, and true legend of his time, I speak of course of Martin O’Keeffe. Martin was one of Trinity’s most celebrated, loved and enduringly popular performers both on and off the pitch. His verbal and physical commitment was always 1000% and this made him a Kop end favourite for the best part of a decade. However adulation got to Martin, as it has done to so many before him, and led to his rapid fall from grace. O’Keeffe got to love the highlife a little too much and his quaffing of wheels of cheese, quail’s eggs, glasses of Port, caviar, AND A BIG F*CKING FRY UP, led to the onset of gout. Once news of this got out, how could the everyman who follows Trinity, cheer him on anymore when he lived the lifestyle of 17th Century royalty. As O’Keeffe’s toe grew so his popularity with the rank and file of Trinity FC shrank, the lowest ebb was yet to be reached. This came when Martin’s contempt for his adoring public reached it’s zenith and in a high profile game against the much fancied Leeds Medics Reserves Martin decided he’d become to big to even kick the ball and turned his grandiose attention towards the pitch. O’Keeffe’s gesture was one step too far for most fans and the management of Trinity as they realised this much indulged star had become too big for EVEN the ball. Trinity’s much put upon fans were used to seeing Martin seemingly moonwalk in the opposite direction when giving chase to an averagely paced winger, but his blatant disregard for this vital tool of his trade, i.e. the ball, was a glass of Burgandy too many for the punch drunk O’Keeffettes. O’Keeffe, as many of us sadly know, no longer illuminates our Saturday afternoons with single paced marauding down the flanks, as with many latter day legends who’ve filled the back pages of the tabloids with their tales of woe, selling winners medals, living in squalor, crippled from the physical demands of the game, a shadow of their once athletic selves due to alcohol abuse, doing some menial job, O’Keeffe now eeks out an existence selling Pine sandwiches and wallowing in memories of yesteryear, occasionally recognised by some starstruck female, but bloated beyond all recognition, these sightings are become fewer. Let the great O’Keeffe be a lesson to all those who bask in the all to temporary glorious light of fame, when the light goes out you could be staggering around in the dark like a complete fuckwit for a very long time. BUT IN THE MEANTIME SH*G AS MANY BIRDS AS POSSIBLE, so until next time get out there and make yourself famous by SCORING A GOAL! Is Gardiner right? Are some of the Trinity players letting 'fame' get to their heads? E-mail Trinity FC Online now with your views. |
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7 September 2005 Seasons
Greetings Hi
all trinity fan, the amusing title to this weeks, and indeed this seasons
first, Gardiner's World report is of course a reference to the fact that a
new, and indescribably exciting, Trinity season is about to start. However
as always with Trinity, pre-season has brought controversy, incident,
stories, goals, ground breaking strides forward and the rare sighting of a
pair of shorts big enough for Martin O'Keefe to squeeze into, lend 'em to
Jamie will you! First
of all everyone here at Gardiner’s World would like to say goodbye and
best wishes to two former members of Trinity who've moved on elsewhere to
ruin their careers. We refer of course to two of Gardiner's World's
favourite sons, Mick Toney and Dave 'Killer' Kilsby. With there departure
Trinity's working class credentials have taken a big dent, the
inarticulate swearing counter will be way down and the academic
qualifications average per player way up. Fortunately Lee one of the new
keepers seems more than happy to rise to the challenge of filling these
gaps. Trinity
history was made on Saturday, and I'm not talking about Mullers looking
composed in the penalty area. I refer of course to the inaugural match
between Trinity's two teams. The game was played in an excellent spirit,
with only 2 sending offs and one series of f*cks thrown at the referee for
giving a throw in when Matt thought the ball hadn't gone out of play, lets
hope the kids he works with in his teaching career can benefit from his
acute sense of injustice. This good natured and entertaining game was
played exactly in the spirit demanded by Head Coach, the ever popular Jim
'Mullers' Mullowney. However there were incidents to report. With lots of
new players coming into the team it was important for the senior members
of the team to set a good example and they didn't let their Head Coach and
absent footballing dictator, sorry director, Lord Jords, down. Robbie
showed the young lads coming into the team that if you get tackled you
should instantly make out you've been fouled, because there's absolutely
no other way that any opponent would have been remotely good enough to
tackle you. When the referee fails to spot this phantom foul you berate
him and get sinbinned, good work Robbie, watch and learn form the ageing
'Hollywood starlet who used to be 'Headline act', but now looks destined
to eke out a career on a Channel 5 23.45 Tuesday night 'comedy' with the
same title as the main star, ie. Robbie for the less intelligent reader
who wouldn't have been able to work it out, that’s not Mark Ryan because
I've used the word reader. The other senior pro's who did management proud
were the keystones cop pairing of Travers and McIntyre. This highly
underrated double act engaged in some first rate slap-stick in the second
half, showing that even though football is at times, an unforgiving and
cruel sport it can be fun for the whole family. These two students of
physical comedy engaged in not one, but two, hilariously delivered
tumbles. Their agents would like me to point out that no stuntmen
were used and Macca's 'stunt wig' is in fact his own hair. Next week they
will be arriving in a square wheeled car, with twirling dickey-bows and
watch out when Travers asks Macca to smell the flower in his lapel only to
find his face squirted with water, the faux shocked and miffed face Macca
pulls is pure Oliver Hardy. However as our Head Coach knows when you
deal with such comedic genius there is often a dark side, and
unfortunately for those present on Saturday one half of the comedy genius'
in the Trinity camp showed theirs. I refer of course to Stevie Travers.
Peace loving gun selling visitor to our shores Roman, a patriot of a
country that has extended it's hand of friendship and hospitality to
Trinity for the past two years, the Czech Republic, was viciously and cold
bloodedly assaulted by the calculating Stevie Travers on the pitch on
Saturday. If it wasn't for the fourteen bags of Golden Wonder that,
committed athlete Roman, had consumed prior to the game the well placed
blow that the highly trained Travers inflicted, could have had a much
more lethal outcome. With Roman's gun connections (THATS RIGHT STANNINGLEY
GET SOMEONE FROM THE BIG CITY TO READ THAT TO YOU, OR COLLEGIANS GATHER
ROUND THAT 1970'S COMPUTER AT YOUR MATES HOUSE WHO YOU'VE COMICALLY
NICKNAMED PROF 'COS HE'S GOT A GCSE we've got a player with gun
connections!) and Travers links with East End gangs, good mates with the
Krays, Mad Frankie Frazer, Mike Reid and Babs Windsor this battle may
still have some legs, unless Macca throws himself under them in hilarious
vaudeville fashion. Roman also gave us all a very educational trip through
fashion history. He combined 1930's Eastern European footwear with 1980's
kids from Fame leg warmers, effortlessly and to the actor who played
Leeroy in Fame, who is sadly no longer with us, I mean he never played for
us, he's dead, your legacy live on, than you Roman, already you have given
us so much. Onto
the other positive matters, Trinity continues to lead the way in moving
the game forward and reflecting the multi-cultural society we all now
embrace and enjoy. Firstly Trinity of course have moved away from the old
adage that bald men are idiots and should be treated differently to having
one bald man running the first team (Jordan, Jim shaves his head for
fashion reasons) and a bald man running the Second team, Neil Higgins.
Trinity also in pre-season had its first ever black captain, Leroy, who
was devoid of leg warmers. He captained Trinity to victory and will
hopefully be a great player and leader for Trinity for years to come and a
role model to lots of youngsters who can see that being a student of
Mullowney's should not automatically mean failure and bitterness. Dennis
could have been the individual celebrating this piece of glorious history
but he turned up late pretending to text some bird cos no one was talking
to him. Trinity is now looking to install their first g*y captain, and
with Neil’s increasing influence in the club this possibility is now far
more likely with an increasing number of candidates, although gay icon Gus
Martin remains the p**fter’s choice. Anyway here's looking forward to an
exciting and hopefully trophy laden season with Trinity, we here at
Gardiner's world will be keeping a close eye on things and reporting back
to you all through the season on all things Trinity and sport related.
Finally don't forget to get your tickets for "Whoops Wheer's My
Trousers" staring Stevie Travers and Paul McIntyre at the Alhambra.
Until next time GET OUT THERE AND SCORE A GOAL. Entertaining stuff indeed! How do you think Trinity will cope this season without the likes of Toney and Kilsby? E-mail Trinity FC Online now with your views. |
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14 April 2005 I'm Committed ME! Much has been written about the now infamous game of playground slaps between 'hard MAN' Lee Bowyer and 'playBOY' Keiron Dyer, I even heard that Dyers dad came up to Newcastle and had a go at Bowyer in the yard until one of the dinner ladies threatened to call the police, so he scarpered. Everything has been said from, they're a disgrace to the club and to football, to they should be banned for the rest of the season and sacked by the club, they've dragged football through the gutter again, to it SHOWS THEY CARE DUNNIT, IT SHOWS COMMITMENT DUNNIT. Bowyer proved this to the thick as pig sh*t 'Toon army', by saying he'd die for this club, if that’s the case why doesn't he start on Shearer rather than the fearsome Dyer. Or perform a ritualistic suicide in the middle of the pitch during a home game. However despite everything that has been written on the 'incident' we here at Gardiner’s World fell that a little bit more could be said, and we have again spotted how football’s most topical team, Trinity, have once again shadowed 'real life' footballing events. People always refer to Bowyer as scum, a toe rag, a divvy, a racist thug, I think people are missing something though. Look at your average footballer, not AN average footballer, your average footballer, like a Mick Toney or a Dave Kilsby, thick as 2 short planks, very little education to speak of, an inability to articulate their thoughts (if they have any) often leading to violent over the top reactions. Now the pampered life style of the modern footballer means they can pursue other interests, namely golf. Bowyer is just a throw back to more traditional interests, racist attacks whilst p*ssed up, smashing up McDonalds, slapping women and attacking BLACK teammates. However in the suddenly snobby football world these noble Hobbies are suddenly demonised, as if being a working class idiot is something to be ashamed of, it's not Lee, ask Mark Ryan. All those deep thinking, philosophical, Toon army fans who RIGHTLY seen what Bowyer (and to a lesser degree Dyer) did as showing passion and commitment, were right, to many footballers today concentrate on the ball and supporting their team-mates in a flowing attacking move, as if that’s all you can do to help your team. But lets take a closer look at what Bowyer did. It's generally agreed that Gareth Barry is one of Villa’s best players, but Bowyer cleverly took him out of the game for the 'Toon', by 'starting' the fight, all too often midfielders go for the easy no-brainer option of lending support to the attackers, when the thinkers will tell you running 15 yards to throw a sh*t headbutt and some girly slaps is a much more progressive attitude. Look at Martin O' Keefe 2 seasons ago, team under the cosh, chance to clear the ball to relieve the pressure, however the wily old fox that is O'Keefe thought, why simply hand them back the ball when I can ATTACK the pitch with my foot rendering the entire pitch to a state of uncontrollable hysterics, thus taking the heat out of the contest and guaranteeing his team a relatively painless 1-0 defeat, genius. This is the kind of under appreciated genius that Bowyer showed, and no doubt when he 'smashed' up a McDonalds, it was only because he realised their staff had a relatively tricky order coming up. Trinity's Lee Bowyer, Neil Higgins, showed similar commitment on Saturday, and I know for a fact that there were several Trinity players that breathed a huge sigh of relief that he isn't quite as committed as Bowyer is to Newcastle, because if he was he would have smashed someone’s face in (especially if they had Pyrex written on them), and my guess is it would have been Trinity’s Dyer, Matt 'You wanna dance' Jordan, so he is a lucky boy that Neil only chose to show his commitment and frustration with a high pitched hissy fit of "why's it always Neil, WHY? WHY?” and that was shocking enough. Was Neil roundly condemned by management for his Bowyeresque show of commitment and love for the club? Was he?...well yes but that’s hardly the point, his team mates knew that this was someone, if not prepared to die for the club, then certainly prepared to miss the odd sunbed session and no one NO ONE can ask for more than that. The point is Neil, like his mentor Bowyer, showed they have passion for the game. I mean are you trying to tell me that if Mick Toney chased down full backs and chased the odd seemingly lost cause, rather than effing and blinding on the half way line cos some idiot like Macca has received the ball on the right touchline facing his own goal and has failed to spot Mick running parallel with the full back on the opposite side of the pitch, that Trinity would be a better team, we here at Gardiner's world beg to differ. Mick shows his commitment by having a go at everyone, not being the kind of divvy, frankly no team needs, who tracks back, plays the simple ball, and supports his team mates, players like Mick, Bowyer and Neil are the reason teams win things Cast your minds back to the time that Bruce Grobbelaar slapped Steve McManaman during the beginning of the Liverpool in decline years. No one doubted this was done out of love for the club, frustration at results and performances and a desire to win. Now this was a mis-match, McManaman, at the time, a very young 8 stone weakling, versus, Bruce a seasoned campaigner, who used to hang upside down out of helicopters firing his machine gun at the enemy, during the Rhodesian war of Independence. Of course there was only one winner, as there would be if someone attacked Trinity’s number 1, the YEAHtesmiester, Jimmy 'you come into the 18yd box that’s my house, I take action' Yates. Yates has had a chest off with several members of the OPPOSITION over the years, and remains the league’s undisputed chest off king, how interesting it would be to see a TRINITY team member take on Yatesy though, the ultimate act of commitment. Like Bruce Yatesy’s got a love of the edge, the adrenalin rush you get from taking risks, he's nudged over the speed limit from time to time sure, he's wore a tight t-shirt, he's back heeled a pass to his full back and laughed as he looks at their colourless cheeks as they receive the ball 7 cm from the goal line. Who dares take him on though, Trinity’s McManaman, Mark Ryan maybe back soon, and he's a prime candidate, it maybe the last action he ever takes in a Trinity shirt, but if it is to be he would join Trinity legend Shaun Turner on the wall at the Pack Horse as a legend whose commitment to his team could never be doubted (admittedly Mark’s shirt would probably go up in the toilet, but it would be mounted). Therefore we here at Gardiner's World applaud Messers Dyer and particularly Bowyer, because they proved they love the club, as we applauded Messers Toney and Higgins for doing like wise for Trinity, and we throw down the ultimate gauntlet of commitment to anyone brave enough and committed enough to the cause to enter the Yates house and FACE THE CHEST. So until next time get out there and IGNORE THE GOAL AND SCRAP WITH A TEAM MATE TO SHOW YOU CARE! Should the act of fighting with your team mates be commended, as it it shows you care and are passionate about your team mate? Or should such an act of on field violence be condemned, as it shows gross indiscipline and can only be detrimental to the team? E-mail Trinity FC Online now with your views. |
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16 March 2005 Where are the characters gone? Hi there earthlings. Here on Gardiner’s world we've spent the week watching football from the 70's and my there were some characters back then. Stan Bowles for instance, they said if he could pass a betting shop as well as he could pass a ball he'd be a millionaire. Well of course he f*cking would, people would pay a fortune to see someone pass a betting shop in the same way as a ball. George Best, great player, great sh*gger, great drinker, who always laughs at the porter who asked him "where did it all go wrong Mr Best?", round about the time my liver collapsed should be the answer, but no. You see Besty was a CHARACTER, so the fact that he completely f*cked up his football career didn't matter because he sh*gged Miss World won some money at the casino and told Omar Sharif that his perfume smelt like s*it, pure class. Frank Worthington was such a character that he wrote a book imaginatively titled "One Hump or Two", where Frank is on the front cover sipping tea, DO YOU SEE WHAT HE'S DONE, Frank doesn't bore us with the tiresome details of a football game but ignites our lives with stories of Swedish au per girls. The list of characters from football past is endless, so where are they now. We turned our attention to the modern game and it doesn't get more high profile than Trinity. Whilst Frank represents the 70's with his stories of exotic ladies getting a good ride on his tash, the modern game is illuminated with stories of Robbie Pearson being spotted at a bus stop, picking his nose, by a bunch of school kids. Brilliant Rob can't wait for the book to come out Frank must be sh*tting himself, note to publisher "Quick get a snot story in there NOW, people don't want to read about beautiful women, they want to hear about bogies". I mean in the old days you had Chopper Harris, Tommy 'the Iron' Smith, Emlyn 'Crazy Horse' Hughes, Trevor 'Brookers' Brooking. Who have you got WHO, WHO, I'll tell you, the financial adviser, Martin 'Clubby' Clubbs. I mean for God sake taking your glasses off and wearing a 'when you realise' t-shirt just wouldn't have cut it in the 70's. Put Clubby and Martin in a room let them fight to the death and get rid of one of these f*ckers once and for all. In the old days you had players with missing teeth, smashed up noses, comb overs and no ability whatsoever, except the ability to put a smile on people’s faces, now you've got a centre half so out of touch with his fan base that he goes on a programme called "LOCATION LOCATION" and talks sh*te about a dining table. Where's the stripper on the dining table with the drugs, I'll tell you where. It is still in the 70's that’s where it is. Gone to are the glorious comb overs of yesteryear, replaced today, even by the management team of Jordania and Jose Mullowneyo, not to mention team fairy 'Higgo' , with the shaven head, pathetic! Finbar Laverty would be turning in his grave if he was actually dead, whilst frantically placing his ludicrously extravagant 'tin lid' hair-do back in place. Forget fashion lads, oh sorry you already have, and go for the comb over, FOR THE FANS. I appreciate that some of the lads in the modern game try their best to revive the memories of the cult heroes of days gone by, but turning up without your cheap bike claiming you crashed it and offering to tarmac peoples drives, just isn't what we are looking for I'm afraid. Of course there will be those of you out there who'll argue "ya but for every George Best there was a dedicated family man like Bobby Charlton", true, but him and Besty hated each other. Charlton hated the fact that Besty lived the highlife and went around sh*gging fit women, he hated the fact that he was a heavy drinker and he hated the fact that he was very good looking and a superb footballer despite his extra curricular activities. Whereas when casting an eye over Trinity, we can easily spot, well several Bobby Charltons (maybe just one George Best and not just because he lives in Manchester), but one standout candidate and family man, a dedicated pro, a man heavily immersed in the same swathe of tedium that engulfed Charlton, yes of course I refer to Stevie Travers. Unlike Charlton however, Travers is well liked by the younger members of the team and seems to get on with everyone, indeed his event free life goes by without any disapproval from the young rowdy element of the changing room and that is most distressing thing of all. Football is of course a results based business these days and management teams like the Jords and Mullinio one, want clones who go out and follow orders to the letter (and Clubby), they don't want or trust mavericks, hence the demise of Martin Barrett’s Trinity career. Sorry Martin, but the refusal to close defenders down for 90 minutes, score goals or create them, will just not be tolerated by the drill sergeants who dominate our game today. How sad it is to see some of Trinity’s true mavericks and risk takers reduced to selling mortgages, pine and bacon sarnies, because the modern game requires not personality and skill, but efficiency and athleticism. Anyone who saw Trinity ply their trade in Division 1 will realise this was far from a pre-requisite for the players of yesteryear. O'Keeffe, bless him, tried to revive the 'entertainers' of yesteryear, where he sent out clearly overweight players and horrifically slow defenders and goal shy attackers (and that was before Jordan moved upfront) to entertain, not win games, and they consistently achieved one of those aims. Unfortunately in this results based culture we live in O'Keeffe’s "If they score four we'll score one" attitude was not going to be given too long and so he stepped down and took a big chunk of love with him. If winning medals is your thing, fine, I'm happy for you, but if bonding with the fans still means anything in this anonymous age, if putting a smile on people’s faces on a Saturday is why you got into the game, if the outrageous back heeler will raise a gasp of approval, then don't be a robot be an entertainer and take football back 30 years with everyone here at Gardiner’s world's blessing. Until next time then ...GET OUT THERE AND SCORE AN ENTERTAINING GOAL! Is Gardiner right? Are there no 'characters' in the Trinity team these days? If there isn't is that a good or a bad thing? E-mail Trinity FC Online now with your views. |
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17 February 2005 A return of Gardiner's world! Yes that’s right just when the team at Trinity Online thought they were spending a lot less time in editing out swear words and spelling mistakes, Gardiner’s world has made a timely return. We here at Gardiner’s world couldn't help noticing that Trinity have been struggling a little bit in recent weeks, and their season is in danger of floundering, seeing as the team on Gardiner's world almost single handedly dragged you into Senior A, we thought it was time to return to help you keep up your assault on the title. First bit of advice we can give you is, forget this youth policy. Good young, fit, talented, well coached, pacey, enthusiastic young players will not win you anything and that is a proven fact, here is a quote from last months FIFA Coaching Magazine, (which there is no point looking to buy as it's just in the middle of changing it's name and has as a result burnt all previous copies in a furnace to avoid any confusion) ".....young players..... won't win....trophies", and that is a direct quote from much respected coach Phil Neal. These young players may bring pace, technique, tricks and stamina to the team but at what cost? Could you ask someone like Dennis Katoro for instance, to get involved in an ongoing cr*p banter and niggly fouls battle with an extremely average, overweight winger, no he simply would not make that sacrifice for the team. Who would I hear you ask, Martin O'Keefe that’s who. Martin will selflessly commit needless fouls against an opposition player of such minuscule talent as to have been previously unnoticed by his team mates, FOR THE GOOD OF THE TEAM. Again young players may bring a hunger and enthusiasm to get involved in a game and make themselves available for the ball, but will the likes of Mark Ryan selflessly plod around the centre circle of the pitch, occasionally springing to life to have a go at the Ref or a member of the opposition whose got a similar idea to them? I'm afraid the answer is again an emphatic no. Players like Mark Ryan, with his all action style, are I'm afraid killing off the much needed fat midfielder who will "sit in (and do f*ck all)" FOR THE GOOD OF THE TEAM, and not as some cynics would suggest because he can't be ar*ed moving. What selfless individual would do this I hear you ask? Mick Coleman, comes the overwhelming reply from the Gardiner's World office. Mick would gladly gain weight DURING a game rather than get involved in the pointless chasing of the ball or members of the opposition, knowing that he could always say to some young wipper snapper, "You wouldn't have ran past me so blo**dy easily 10 years ago". This player is the heartbeat of any successful team as he ropes the opposition into a sense of nostalgia so deep that they completely forget their tactics, and say things like "watch him he used to play for someone else". Trinity would do well to remember that it's glorious past was built on the constant employment of 8 or 9 veterans always willing to turn a harmless punt down field from the opposition into a heart stopping chase for the ball resulting in a one on one with the opposition forward and the Trinity goalkeeper, FOR THE GOOD OF THE TEAM. Football teams also need lads who can put a smile on the fans faces particularly in these wintery months, and whilst the young Trinity contingent bring their own WIIIIIICKEEEED, PSYCHE, sense of physical humour, they aren't characters like the old guys. Just like every footballer who played professionally in the 70’s would have said to Gordon Banks about his infamous save from Pele "I told Banksy you should have caught it, you one eyed b*stard ha ha ha", the older generation of Trinity players can be relied on for some on pich shinnanigans. Witness Martin O' Keefe's hilarious free kick routine last year where he kicked the pitch so hard with his gout inflicted toe ( a glass of pre-match port did the trick) he had to be subbed at 1/2 time. Not to be undone this season he injured himself in a pre-season warm up, they just don't make them like that anymore. Martin’s not the only old school 'character', take a look at current portly funny man Robbie Pearson, sensing that last seasons penultimate game for Trinity, mid-week away to East Ardsley on a dreadful pitch, a notorious stumbling block for Trinity, was going to be a drab affair, with little to cheer about, he embarked on a side splittingly ineffective back heeler that resulted in a hamstring pull and the premature ending of his season. What have these terrific acts of self-sacrifice got in common; they were FOR THE GOOD OF THE TEAM. So think on there Trinity youth has its place but let them learn from these past masters. Second bit of advice, for God sakes change your pre-match preparation and team talks. What happened to players turning up 17 seconds before kick off, shouting out onto the pitch to Macca "where’s the key for the changing room?". This used to make Trinity a laughing stock amongst their opponents, who then took them lightly at their peril and were often shocked to win by such a relatively small margin. Furthermore tactics TACTICS, you try getting "there's the ball I kick or smash player up" Martin Clubbs to do tactics NO. It doesn't work! Football is a simple game and as Nick Bentley realised can only be fully understood after a 35 minute team talk, where certain players are highlighted for there lack of ability and the opposition unworthy of a mention. Bentley realised by the time he's finished talking to us we were so desperate to get hold of the ball we were slightly demonic. Furthermore, the last game I watched Trinity looked confused as to what to do with the ball individually, that is because Messers Mullowney and Jordan have not learnt from former coach, O'Keeffe the importance of going over this every week without any change whatsoever, even if personnel changes. Martin’s ever more excitable team talk would spell things out crystal clear "Get it down, get it to Macca, get it to Clubby, get it to Jordan, get it to Gardiner, get it to Gareth , GET IT TO ROBBIE GET IT TO TRAVERS, PLAY IT LONG GET IT TO FEEEEEeeeeet (oh I've just c*m)", by the time Martin came too the game would be started but the team was under no illusions of what they had to do. These are just a couple of words of advice for the powers that be at Trinity, we here at Gardiner's world have got to go now because we're on night shift, so until next time GET OUT THERE AND SCORE A GOAL...FOR THE TEAM!! It's great to see Gardiner's World back. Or is it? Is a return to the 'good old days' the correct path for Trinity? Is going backwards the best way forwards? E-mail Trinity FC Online now with your views and suggestions. |
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10 May 2004 Reasons to be
cheerful Well
Hi there loyal readers I realise it has been quite some time since we last
got the chance to communicate, but Gardiner’s world has been party to a
legal dispute, yes that’s correct loyal reader we were taken to court by
Neil Higgins considerable legal team for branding him a big middle class
bender (even though it was actually written in a letter we had received
from a person not employed here at Gardiner’s world). Realising that we
didn't have the financial clout to take on Mr Higgins' law 'firm' we
settled out of court and gave him a bl*w job behind the Town Hall followed
by a good b*mming, so we unreservedly apologise for any distress caused by
our article to Mr. Higgins and his boyfriend(s). On a similar note Mick
Toney also complained about being labelled thick, but when we said
"sorry" he said "Don't try and f*cking cofusionalise me
with your fu*king big fu*king words". Anyway
in a time where football has been, again, dragged through the gutter with
the outrageous sacking of big Ron whose clearly not racist as he used to
talk to some of them, his local shop is owned by one of them and he still
buys stuff there, so just because he called one of them a big lazy ni**er
undoes all the good work he has done for these ungrateful s*mbos, Trinity
salutes you Ron if you know what they mean. Trinity have yet again risen
to the occasion and taken football out of the doldrums and proved that
it's not just lazy ni**ers who can't defend as pointless hoofs were proven
to have a point and Angus Martin showed that the school of flicks can't be
a*sed with defending lessons. However despite all these problems Trinity
gained a very well earned promotion, particularly when you consider that;
they lost 5 of their first 8 league games; one of the centre forwards
failed to get into double figures; Martin O'Keeffe was hideously injured
by the pitch in one game; a hunchbacked freak refereed one game; Angus
Martin occasionally played; Clubby was taking throw ins; 2 of the players
went sight seeing in one game whilst two others played in the same kit; as
Robbie rightly claimed the defenders couldn't boot it far as f*ck, until
Killer Kilsby rose to the challenge and kept walloping free kicks out for
goal kicks and giving Robbie a smug look; Jamie’s a*se kept swallowing
pairs of shorts; Robbie injured himself doing an outrageous dance move
during a game; Jimmy Yates clearly took a bribe for the last 3 games;
being 2-0 down in some games before Nick Bentley had finished his
pre-match talk; Trinity were clearly the most middle class team in the
division; a 49 year old marksman put them out of the cup with
O’Keeffe’s first and only assist of the season; Clubby kept going up
for corners WHY? In spite of all these things Trinity will be playing
where they, and apparently East Ardsley, really deserve to be playing,
Senior A. A special word to our reader Mr Stevie Travers on his
fantastic triple achievement this year the birth of his and his
lovely girlfriend’s little ENGLISH baby boy, smashing in over 30
goals this season up there on your own it's never easy and finally
finishing his fist book, lets hope this new lust for knowledge doesn't
distract from what he does best throwing himself about like a big
brainless divvy upfront, well done Stevie and indeed to all Trinity’s
players and Angus, long may you continue to entertain in Senior A, go
out and drink sh*t loads, fight with soft as f*ck students and pull sh*t
loads of really, really good looking birds, unless your in a loving and
committed relationship in which case take your wedding ring off stick it in
your pocket and cop off with the nearest fat bird because your wife
probably doesn't understand you. So boys until pre-season 2004-05 remember
GET OUT THERE AND SOMEONE OTHER THAN TRAVERS.....SCORE A GOAL!! Yes there are lots of reasons to be cheerful! But readers are there any more reasons to be cheerful? In contrast are there any reasons not to be cheerful? E-mail Trinity FC Online now with your views and suggestions. |
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10 March 2004 A
f*cking defence! As
the title may suggest simply by the inclusion of a swear word,
Gardiner’s World has been inundated with mail since the controversial
letter we printed a few weeks back about Trinity not being working class
enough anymore. Several of the letters, admittedly the ones that were
difficult to read and were littered with mistakes, agreed that Trinity
were not a working class team.
So a big thank you to KillerKilsby and his military buddies for
their passionate defence of their GINGER mate. However several eloquently
written letters stated that they were under no illusions that Trinity were
indeed a working class team, and that this was a good thing for both them
and football as a whole. Here at Gardiner’s World though as always
unless we don't bother we are going to pin our colours to the f*cking mast
(right lads) and defend Trinity’s rights to claim to be a working class
team, and I'll think you'll agree there is an impressive body of evidence.
Where
better place to start than with the teams skipper. Yes Matt of St.
Jordians may have gone to a Grammar school, he may come from down south
where the vast majority of people are f*ggots and middle class, don't take
my word for it that is a direct quote from respected blind as a b*stard
NORTHERN politician David Plunkett, or someone like that. However, Matty
has got a tat, and what’s more than that he has got a sh*t tatoo, not
one of these poncy surfer tatoos that middle class f*ggots and lads who
play for Harrison Beds in Miggi have got, but a sh*t Popeye, and
what makes it even harder is it's on his leg suggesting he might have been
in the navy or something like that. He's also got a skinhead, which
despite cruel rumours is not just because he's bald it's cos he doesn't
give a f*ck, and not because his hair do was becoming a complete
embarrassment. There you have it the captain is clearly working class,
what of the rest then? How
about the 'Killer'? Killer’s working class attributes were questioned
because he plays golf. Dave’s lack of qualifications, outspoken race
views, disastrous efforts to have a fashionable haircut, all lend
themselves very well to the working classes, but this nagging hobby
remains. A passionate defence has arisen for Dave’s hobby though
from a fellow golf pro, who would only let us use his initials in
case anyone realised that he was talking sh*te and wasn't good enough to
be a pro. M.C. said of Dave "I was f*cking shocked as f*ck me, I was,
to read that my f*cking mate Killer had been accused of being middle
class because he plays golf.
He can't even spell middle class he f*cking can't let alone f*cking
be middle fucking class. The only reason Dave plays golf and he told
me this is because n*ggers can't afford to, and P*kis are shit at it, and
it gives him an excuse to dress like Del Boy". Thanks M.C. for that
vigorous defence. With this evidence and the already impressive catalogue
of working class credentials at Mr. 'Killer' Kilsby’s disposal there
can be no further accusations thrown at him of being anything but LOWER
working class. On
we go to Stevie Travers and Gareth Curran.
Well we all know because of the quaint little village schools in
"the Old Country", writing on slates having to leave early to
get the cattle in, lessons being interrupted by sheep wandering through,
lovely idyllic stuff, but nevertheless with that background you can hardly
accuse these simple living folk of being middle class.
The very thought of an Irish member of the middle classes filled
all of us here at Gardiner’s World with laughter. The next 3 members can
more or less be bundled in together.
Of course I'm talking the most popular team members Chris G, Macca
and Jim 'Mullers' Mullowney. These three stalwarts of the working class
community all come from tough uncompromising inner-city areas. When they
go out you can tell by there sh*t clothes and the fact that they regularly
get turned away from trendy clubs so they can go to chase Toni, I mean so
they can go and batter some Goths at The Cockpit, that they don't give a
f*ck in that way that only working class lads do, plus Chris G can't
even afford to pay the full amount of subs at the end of each game.
Yes they have all gone and got themselves degrees, but 2 of them
work in a pub, and they thought their degrees were in plumbing not in
politics as it turned out, and the other one deliberately teaches lessons
so badly that most of the BLACK kids in his classes go on to fail and
never amount to no good as his Dad always told him they wouldn't.
So if any of you soft, and I do mean soft, really, really, really
soft middle class b*stards out there want to argue with these 3 and you
can guarantee that you are soft, then come on you b*stards is the
message they are sending out to you at this time. All 3 of these
individuals also have, wait for it, experience of manual work, yes they
worked on the buildings, and they f*cked and blinded with the best of them
all day long, bought the Daily Star and went straight to page 3 and always
said to the old Irish fella "what do you think of them then? Hey f*ck
me what I wouldn't do to her" and then put up a calendar with t*ts
and a*se on every page. That shows there can be no doubt at all about the
working class credentials of these three hardy individuals, not for them
the sitting at a computer all day long, not for them the reading of a
broad sheet, the only women’s lib their interested in is women’s
LIBido, even though they wouldn't have a clue what libido is or be able to
see it they'd be so pissed up on Kestrel Super, f*cking great lads those
3. As
for Martin O'Keefe, because Martin’s family have had their own business
for a number of years, Martin feared that he would be considered middle
class, so he rather cleverly re-invented himself. Despite the fact that 4
out of 5 members of Martin’s family are English, including himself,
Martin realised, as was explained earlier with reference to Travers and
Gareth, that ALL Irish are considered LOWER working class because of their
poor education and simple outlook on life so he became Irish, much to the
surprise of everyone who went to school with him in ENGLAND. Also having
studied the working classes who he had lots of contact with on the site
and who he had convinced that pine was classy furniture, he realised that
most of them were overweight and bald, and he proceeded to cover both
those avenues as well, well done Martin, honorary working class status to
you. As for new members of the team, like Jamie and Mick Toney who are both working class. Jamie’s hilarious attempts to have fashionable long hair have resulted in the kind of hairstyle not seen this side of the iron curtain or other than on a Jerry Springer show, it's a classic inner-city working class mullet, and Mick Toney is thick as f*ck so no debate there. Sadly for Trinity, Nick Bentley, Angus Martin and Neil Higgins are great big middle class ponces. Still where else are the rest of the lads going to go to lend a fiver until their giro comes in, or get a lift to the footie in the first place. Remember then lads, until next time GET OUT THERE AND SCORE A F*CKING GOAL What a defence for the working class status of Trinity! But do you share Gardiner's opinions? E-mail Trinity FC Online now with your opinions on Gardiner's World's thought provoking, yet at the same time reasonably entertaining column! |
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21 January 2004 The trouble with you c*nts is... Here’s a passionate letter we received here at Gardiner’s World this week that we thought our regular fan would like to get someone to read it to hi. So here goes Travers I hope you enjoy it, it’s thought provoking stuff: ‘The trouble with you c*nts at
Trinity is that none of you are working class anymore. I mean I know the
likes of Gardiner (the most genuinely working class in your team),
Mullers and McIntyre WERE all working class at one stage, but because they
are so f*cking brainy they all f*cked off to Uni and got bloody degrees.
Where I come from the only degrees that matter are how many degrees
is my incredibly strong lager at. I mean for f*cks sake your manager works
at some school for f*ggots in HarroGAYte spends a fortune on tw*tty
haircuts and goes skiing, the only skiing you'll see round my way is
skidding my undies after a f*cking red hot vindaloo. Then on to your
skipper who didn’t even make the token gesture of going to a state
school but minced off to Grammar school and is so middle class he was even
born in the south. His
pathetic efforts to come across as a genuine Northern working class lad
are pathetic "Hey guys isn’t footie a wonderful game, I'm a
Burnley supporter don't you know, I hope we sign 'Gazza' Beckham he's
the best". In goal you've got your team 'tough' guy Jimmy Yates.
I like him he's not afraid to push people half his size. But he's had f*cking
copper tones in his hair for f*cks sake. If he came round my way that he'd
soon have a copper pipe in his 'hair', and have something half his size
pushed up his jacksie, although playing for you b*nders he'd probably
enjoy that. I thought when you got some new players that might give you a
new working class edge but has it f*ck!
For a start off one of your new group of bandits is called Jamie
and has got breasts and long hair, 'Killer' Kilsby showed lots of
potential with his military background, obvious lack of qualifications and
strong race views. I thought yes I'll have a pint of fucking Kestral
Super with this c*nt, WRONG. Turns out he plays f*cking golf. GOLF what a
p*ff. The only golf you get round my way is the Golf VW signs we have
hanging round our necks 'cos we don't give a f*ck. As for that other new
f*ggot faced f*cker, Neil. Neil
and give your boyfriend a blowjob more like! That 2 seater car of his says
"I can't get birds pregnant me". Round my way if you can't get
birds pregnant by looking at them we'll kick you in the f*nny, and not the
American one either. Then there’s that little queer who joined you Mick
Toney. Pr*ck Phoney more like! Do you get it, eh? Or is it not Stephen Fry
or John Sessions enough for you! He minces in every week with his tight
t-shirts and his tight jeans wrapped tightly around his perfectly formed
buttocks. If he came round
are way looking like that he'd get b*mmed, er, ahm, I mean that in a
working class way not a f*cking St. Mattjordians Grammar school way, not
that you f*ckers would know. Anyway that’s my reasoning for why you lot
are so f*cking sh*t! If you had more brainless divvies like Travers
playing you'd be a lot better off, and it's p*ssed me off so much to see a
lack of working class lads in the Trinity team that I had to e-mail you,
but I knew if I e-mailed your gay chat line web site it wouldn’t get
printed so I e-mailed Gardiner’s world because I've read it before and
he'll print any old sh*te! See you later, you C*NTS! Well all that remains for us to say here at Gardiner’s World is GET OUT THERE AND SCORE A F*CKING GOAL FOR THE WORKING DIVVIES Have Trinity sold out to the middle classes? E-mail Trinity FC Online now with your opinions on Gardiner's World's controversial, but still very entertaining column! |
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17 December 2003 The crazy world of football! Well fans a lot has happened in the world of football and Trinity since we last spoke. Firstly all the qualifiers for the 2004 European Championships were decided, with England already safely through players such as Macca, Jordan, Mullers, Yatesy and O'Keefe (all staunch English men) had no interest in how the others got on. However funny little nations like Wales and Scotland bravely put together their own teams and had a go at qualifying for the big stage, so well done to them. Scotland in particular can count themselves unlucky as they had put themselves in an excellent position by winning the first game 1-0. However before the return leg the referee apparently went into the Scots changing room and said to the Scottish players: "Right lads I've refereed this lot before and they're a team of idiots, all they'll do is tell you about their two world cup final appearances in the 1970's and try and intimidate you. Don't let them wind you up as I'm the only fat bloke here and I'll be 70-80 yards behind play letting them know it's a mans game and that’s why I don't play it, also it's 95 Guilders (g's) for yellow card, 125g's for a red card, 25 guilders for a stamp, which will also get you a red card if I see it, only joking lads I meant a postage stamp but I can communicate with all footie lads me cos I once subbed for me under 12's at school before I got fat as f*ck". Anyway after all that the Jockos were unsurprisingly sh*t scared and went out and got thrashed 6-0. However all was not lost as their manager Bertie McVogts put paid to that old myth that Germans don't have a sense of humour by saying that maybe the result would have been different if Christian Dailly had been playing. Ha ha nice one Bertie. The Jocks however should have taken a leaf out of Trinity’s book as they were not affected by the referees little pre-match chat before they played genuine hard men from Miggi, and they went out and BATTERED these hard as f*ck Miggi players, and refused to be intimidated by their Beckham style mohicans, and lovely feather cuts, and may I just say the weather has obviously been excellent in HARD AS F*CK MIGGI as the players tans were very impressive and hard. However the victory was not without some concern although thankfully not for one of Trinitys brave troopers, but one of the hardest of all the hard men on the MIGGI team. Their battering ram of a centre forward who had already proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was a genuine hard man by calling Trinity’s players "puffs", which only a genuine hard man could do, was involved in a horrific clash with the ball. This stomach churning event took place in the second half when a ball looped up off the foot of Killer Kilsby into the air, on the way down from it's peak (a shocking 6 feet in the air), hardened pros who’d seen it all before turned away fearing the worse as they seen the slow moving sphere hurtling towards the burly forwards well tanned cheek..."ooooh" was the cry as it grazed his cheek on the way down causing him to fall like a sack of sh*t. His hard as f*ck team mates clearly concerned checked to see if he had swallowed his tongue, whilst everyone else rushed to clean some of his foundation off the ball. Luckily he was hard as f*ck and he got up to finish the rest of the game without letting the ball bother him again. Trinity of course then followed up this excellent performance with another convincing victory the following week against Huddersfield Amateurs, 6-2. However disaster loomed. During the days in between Trinity’s victory over Huddersfield, and their impending humiliation at the hands of Batelians, a crisis occurred that had a huge effect on the result on the Saturday, more of which later. Trinity approached the game rightly full of confidence, and despite missing big headed top scorer Travers, they had a strong squad for the game. However Batley is a beautiful part of the country and several people come for an hour or two and end up spending days taking in the lovely scenery, this is more or less what happened to Irish simpleton, Gareth Curren and Irish sounding simpleton Stevie Richardson, who missed the start of the game so taken were they with all Batley had to offer. However all was not yet lost as 11 players were still available. Matt Jordan of course is a revolutionary, and he does not simply view football as 11 v11, he realises it can be 11 v 9 or 10, and in a major confidence booster to new signing Tom we started with 10 with him as sub. However not content with this handicap, after all we had won 2 games in a row, Macca p*ssed off out of central defence for a quick chat with "sub" Tom. Clubby sensing that Trinity needed some time to calm down proceeded to hack down the forward who it seemed to everyone else was heading off to see where Gareth and Stevie had got to, and then couldn’t be a*sed to mark anyone from the free-kick and they scored after 90 seconds. Then the problem I mentioned earlier kicked in. When Gareth and Stevie turned up in their 'Kiss Me Quick' hats, and with sticks of rock, it became apparent we didn’t have enough pairs of shorts. Old Trinity stalwarts Macca and Clubby didn’t see this as a problem and immediately volunteered to play the rest of the game with both of them playing in only one pair of shorts. This meant they bravely sacrificed their own performances so everyone could have a pair of shorts, and also so Jordan’s dream of playing with 10 men could continue unabated. So from being a serious competitive game these 2 old vaudeville classic comedians gave the game an excellent comedy edge. When Nick Bentley finally dragged himself from his slumber to separate them in the second half there were a few tears, but they realised they had brought a lot of joy to the opposition and seemed content with that. However Jordan was furious as now we had 11 players again, fear not Jordan, Robbie is near by, whilst chasing a long ball down the field Robbie suddenly realised his team was losing 6-0 and proceeded to "pull" a hamstring, and Jordan’s dream was once again realised, as Trinity returned to their favoured 3(4 players in 3 positions)-4-1 formation. However all was not yet lost as Trinity’s Siamese centre halves had one more moment of hilarity left up their sleeve when a harmless punt upfield became a devastating through ball when quite unexpected the Trinity stalwarts of Macca and Clubby charged forward shouting "left leg forward..right leg forward....hand in the air... now stare at the ref confused and try to will him into an offside decision...SH****TE!", and so it was 7. All that was missing from this defensive performance was a couple of giant costumes, paper mache heads and Stuart Hall frantically shouting about the Belgians. Most of Trinity were only to glad to get the hell out of Batley after that, of course Gareth and Stevie Rich had to go and say goodbye to some old friends on the way out. So all in all a couple of crazy weeks for Football which us leads us here at Gardiner’s World to say GET OUT THERE AND DON'T CONCEDE A GOAL! As ever very entertaining! E-mail Trinity FC Online now with your opinions on Gardiner's view of Trinity's latest performances! |
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10 November 2003 A
sad day/week This
weeks Gardiner’s world column, described by Trinity FC Online as the
world seen through my eyes, is written with tears in my eyes. The reasons for this will become clear as we go on, if indeed
we can go on. A lot of dreams have been shattered here in Gardiner’s
world over the last couple of weeks, and the main reason behind this
involves two people who are thought of with great affection in this
strangely compelling place that is Gardiner’s world. Jim
'Mullers' Mullowney has long been a well respected member of this and I'm
sure many other communities, with his witty repartee, hilarious stories
and genial manner. Many of his gags are written by the same talented team
that have brought us such comedic delights as the recently nominated for a
comedy award "Last of the Summer Wine", the hilarious
"Babes in the Wood", and the dateless "Some Mothers Do 'Ave
'Em", which goes along way to explaining why he is so popular, and
why we are all baffled as to how he remains single. However the dark side
of this popular character came to the fore over the past week or so.
The unfortunate victim of this cowardly attack was another great favourite
here in Gardiner’s world. Of
course it's the young Simon Cowell, Mr Stevie Travers. The way we've
viewed the incident here in Gardiner’s world is that after three
consecutive hat-tricks, and an uncomplicated outlook on life, not to
mention an easy Cockneyish charm coupled with those GMTV good looks,
drain-pipe trousers etc. Travers has easily usurped Mullers not just as a
Gardiner’s world favourite, but also as a changing room and crowd
favourite. Mullers like some desperate Hollywood starlet whose finding
that the phone has stopped ringing with roles, admirers aren’t as
numerous as they once were, their own fabulous looks are fading and there
is a new more desired star in town, has set about to ruin the rising stars
brightening flame. Mullers maliciously and in cowardly manner smashed the
silly f*cker’s, I mean Travers’, face in with a stomach churning
attack. Furious that he had passed up an easy chance to draw within eleven
goals of Travers for the season, and fearing that Travers might add to his
impressive tally, Mullers, trained boxer, used his quite stunningly
powerful right hand to gently slap Travers in the face, and unfortunately
for Travers his normally lightening reflexes weren’t up to standard and
he was grazed by Mullers little finger which proceeded to smash his nose
to bits. I can reveal here in the Gardiner’s world column EXCLUSIVELY
that this was a premeditated attack. A tape of some of the frankly
hilarious banter in the changing before the game has been delivered here
to Gardiner’s world. We had
to listen to it several times because we were laughing so hard at the
quick fire wit that seems to be so common place in the changing room, with
my favourite characters being that funny sounding guy Gareth who does a
really funny voice which is great, Macca, with his hilarious p*ss taking
lisp and the guy who seems to be at the centre of all the best banter,
Chris something or other. However on my seventeenth listen I was
astonished to hear Mr. Mullowney say this " Stevie Travers
...is...(going ) to get...(his)...f*cking...(face punched)...in....(by)
Mullers". Yes I was
horrified to hear this as well, but audio tapes don't lie, and this is a
word for word quote. The fall out of this cowardly attack proved to have a
huge effect on the team. Nick "the gaffer" Bentley took off to a
health farm for the week, but was so traumatised by the attack he became
unhealthy, the team were so shell shocked, that they raced to a five goal
deficit in their next game, and Matt Jordan was so scared to put the ball
in the net after seeing what had happened to Travers when he did, that he
deliberately missed several very, very easy chances. Mullers further
attempted to 'injure' other popular squad members with expertly 'misplaced
passes' which led to brave Trinity players having to put themselves into
50-50 challenges that they so loathe. Mullers, still conscious of his
perceived fading star even turned his cowardly attentions towards team
stalwart and notorious wheezy kid, Paul 'Macca' McIntyre on Wednesday
night, by viciously standing on his shoelaces causing him to hurt his toe.
Macca was rightly, and particularly incensed as he had only committed
seventeen fouls beforehand and was justifiably puzzled as to why the
increasingly vindictive Mullers had added him to his hit list. Is
this way that Mullers is going to go? Attacking every single member of the
team he deems to be becoming more popular than him? Is only Angus Martin
to be safe? Unfortunately even here in Gardiner’s world we don't have
the answer to these highly intuitive questions, only our old friend, or in
the case of Matt, Martin, Mullers and Neil’s' hair, old enemy, Father
Time will tell. Just remember though Mullers if you beat a dog for long
enough one day it will turn and bite you on the ass, or turn up wearing a
ludicrous bandage on it's nose. So
until next time earthlings remember to get out there AND SCORE A GOAL...
before Mullers punches you in the face! Quite entertaining! E-mail Trinity FC Online now with your opinions on Gardiner's criticism of Trinity crowd favourite Jim 'Mullers' Mullowney! |
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29 October 2003 It's a
feeding frenzy It's good to see
on Planet Earth that Trinity have scored another victory, and kept the
revival of football’s fortunes going strong. Once again the hero of the
piece is everyone’s favourite boy next door, Stevie Travers, with his
3rd hat-trick in a row. Stevie’s refusal to clutter his life up with
art, literature, politics, the theatre etc. means he is always fully
focused on football, and boy is football benefiting from this simplistic
outlook, long may it continue. However, Trinity’s similarities to
England were again apparent when Dave Kilsby had been told he had to
complete a random 90 minutes every Saturday, but failed to show up for
this compulsory 90 on Saturday, stating that he simply forgot to be in the
country where the game was taking place. Golf pro Dave 'Killer' Kilsby was
so busy slagging off any nation you could care to mention that he forgot
to inform his manager of a holiday that he would be on Saturday. It's
easily done Dave I'm always finding myself marooned on a beach in some far
off place, when f*ck me I remember I'm meant to be in work, or at a game I
haven't told a living soul, you flash tw*t. However here in
Gardiner’s world we find many of Trinity’s players’ attitudes to
personal fitness a real breath of fresh air. In an age when footballers
are accused of being merely machines who can run none stop for 90 minutes,
but don't have the technical ability of days gone by, of being athletes,
not footballers, several Trinity players fly in the face of this theory,
and say NO, WE SHALL BE NEITHER FOOTBALLERS NOR ATHLETES. Trinity has a
proud tradition of producing some of the most hilariously shaped players
in the modern game. Why their old dear departed manager was fantastically
rotund, and I'm sure he looks down proudly these days on some of the
current crop of elastic stretchers. Martin O'Keefe has long since been a
fully paid up member of the "It's all bought and paid for" club,
and those of Trinity's players who were fortunate enough to be invited to
Matt Jordan’s stag do will have been fortunate enough to witness Martins
hairy breasts putting the cleavage of many a stripper to shame. Of course
Martin like the trooper that he is, is only following the fine example set
by our glorious leader Nick Bentley. Nicks stomach is so large these days
that it fooled him into thinking he was nearer to the keeper than he
actually was on Saturday and lead to a rather pathetic 'chip' as a result.
Like Glenn Hoddle Nick’s pride makes him still want to be the biggest
member of the team despite not playing as regularly these days. With Nick
as our boss the Pies the limit (ha ha!). Unfortunately one of our 'larder'
than life characters from seasons past has not appeared yet this season,
loner Mick Coleman. Mick has now dedicated himself full-time to cake
eating; his only true friends, the changing room and his fridge are
emptier for his absence from our team.
However soon Jimmy Yates will be back from his honeymoon, many of
his team mates will be unaware that tough guy Yates got married recently
as he couldn’t be a*sed inviting anyone, unlike team creep Martin Clubbs.
Jimmy is also a big member of this elite club. In fact sentimental tough
guy Yates was so upset to hear last year that the kit would be different
this year that he forced a pair of shorts further and further up his arse
each week so as to keep them when the kit became moribund. However the
smart money for this year’s largest team member is on a newcomer to this
club, former speed merchant Robbie Pearson. City centre living playboy
Pearson has such a hectic life with his job and his Czech DVD collection
he rarely has time to cook and keeps his athletic frame well protected
with regular trips to the McDonalds across the way. Former chairmen of the
Trinity Fat Cats, Paul McIntyre, said " We should have an award for
these guys, to help boost their low self-esteem. Robbie joining them will
mean a lot to these misfits". Paul has now fully committed himself to
the Trinity Facial Burns Unit, which he has been a loyal member of for
year. Well done Paul! Well lets hope
that Trinity can learn from these guys, and keep FEEDING their recent
success, because in Gardiner’s world we don't judge people by
appearance, we just ridicule them, until next time get out there and SCORE
A GOAL! Very entertaining indeed with possibly a hidden message attached, or maybe not. E-mail Trinity FC Online now with your opinions on Gardiner's view of the Trinity Fat club! |
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15 October 2003 Sandal Roasted I thought it was about time I kicked off my 'regular' column for the consistently excellent Trinity FC Online website, which continues to be as witty, topical and strangely attractive to women just like the brains behind it. The uglier side of football has been well documented this last week, what with the sexual antics of various footballers, all assumed to be black by in house racist Paul 'Macca' McIntyre. If the amount of sh*te he's talked in the past week is anything to go by I'd avoid his betting tips as much as I would avoid an invitation back to a hotel from Kieron Dyer, Carlton Cole, Rio Ferdinand, Titus Bramble or Luke Chadwick. No matter how attractive these guys might be, with their toned bodies and muscular thighs they clearly don't know how to treat young ladies or guys for that matter. Take a tip from me and Mullers guys, sure we like to go out and unwind after a tough game, or a game against Sandal, but we always (and I mean ALWAYS) go home together without some 'gold digger' in tow and as a result do you ever see Mullers and myself attached to some lurid headline like; MULLERS LOVED MY WIG TITS, says bald ex; well do you, no, exactly. Something to muse on there Rio et al. However all that said after such a turbulent week for English Football it was good to see Trinity again rise above the collective rabble and dig football back out of the gutter, and has become our role over the years. Football was certainly the winner on Saturday, instances like Sandals keeper struggling to stand up with the ball in front of Chris Toney a mere 4 yards from goal. But did he ruthlessly head it past him to seal the fate of the opposition, did he f*ck! He tamely placed the ball straight at the keeper, thus making himself look a complete c*nt instead of the poor keeper. You’re the bigger man (he he), Mr.Toney. However it would be unfair to deny Sandal their small role in helping raise football back to its knees. By failing to select there ace 49 year old marksman, who tormented us last time by springing our carefully structured "If my arms in the air he must be off" offside trap, and by turning O'Keeffe’s potential assault on the floor with his foot into an unstoppable lob. The absence of this menace allowed O'Keefe, free from his nemesis, and freely kicking the ball before the turf, to waddle upfield and score his first of the season. This was a day for the family, and even though no ones family was actually there, there were plenty of children to roll around with and just have a bit of fun. They thoroughly enjoyed Trinity’s display, and thankfully the game was completely devoid of any; ‘f*cks’, ‘b*stards’, ‘c*nts’, ‘c*cksuckers’, ‘muthaf*ckas’, ‘sh*t stabbers’ and ‘w*nkers’; which the kids loved. At the end of the match I knew that despite the hellish week our glorious game had faced that we were on the right track when a young fan came up to me and simply said "Thanks for that, that’s what football is all about. By the way what’s wrong with that guy Macca’s face?" All that remains for me to say is that in a time where it is evident that footballers get paid to much, are too pampered, are treated more like celebrities that sportsmen, I say thank God for Stevie Travers. If there were more characters in the game like this lovable cockney we would be a much better place in the nation’s hearts. Stevie cares not a jot for the latest fashions, or modern haircuts, his ‘take me as I am in my Tour de France shoes, my drainpipe Pepe jeans and my Breakfast TV presenters hair’ style. ‘Who cares if I come across as provincial? Just give me a ball and let me get out there and play.’ That attitude my friends will always be accepted in Gardiner's World, and its the type of simple behaviour that a few of our over paid, over pampered football stars could well do with taking notice of. Well done Stevie don't you dare go changing! You stay right there in the 80's! That’s all from my world for this week guys. See you all again soon, and remember until next time get out there AND SCORE A GOAL! Entertaining stuff indeed and no less thought provoking. E-mail Trinity FC Online now with your opinions on the first Gardiner's World column! Don’t be shy! |