Part 24
The General speaks
Birmingham @ Home
In a break from the usual tradition of one of my foot soldiers (or Cannon Fodder, if you prefer) composing “the trenches” I have taken on the onerous task myself this week.
With young Prvt Beddows going AWOL from this weeks battle due to a prior engagement – something to do with a Shetland pony, a rubber glove and a jar of marmite - we had to reorganise the line.
The discussion briefly went:
Head Coach: OK, we’ll put Fobbo 1 on the Left, Magnum & Pete take the right, I’ll bravely advance from the comfortable Chateau, being serviced by willing French hand maidens and play centre.
QB: But Fobbo prefers to man the right.
Head Coach: OK, Magnum & Pete take the left, Fobbo on the right.
5 minutes later
Fobbo: I prefer the left.
Magnum & Pete: We don’t care (I have noticed a certain nihilism creeping into the ranks – I assume it is the cynasism of youth. This must be stopped)
Head Coach: &@~! It! Play where you &!*$£@*! well want.
Oh the pressures of leadership!
Morale seemed higher than last week. This I put down to 2 things.
1. Prvt Beddows being AWOL.
2. The Obbo part of Fobbo took himself off to form his own team talk – for the entire match. This was viewed with much relief by the rest of the troop.
I believe that the traditional final salutation is
“Catch you next time trench fans – Keep blocking”.
But you won’t, as Prvt Beddows will return with happy grin and a vague smell of yeast extract for the next edition.
1 Fobbo – A mythical creature – two beings existing as one.
