The club’s motto is “Let us be judged by our acts,” and, if you look at the multi-purpose built stadium, they are on the right track. Unfortunately, football is played on the pitch, and The Tykes are flirting dangerously close with relegation. The game oozed effort and commitment but not a lot of quality. Bitominge could cite their injury list as a countenance for this, but Barnzli will have to find a way to concede less and convert more chances than the one Break A Leg gift-wrapped present in the final ten minutes of the game.
A shrewd side would have closed shop and humped every ball out of the ground towards the nearest disused colliery, but The Tykes allowed Break A Leg to make amends with sloppy defending and pinch a point five minutes before time.
Donny & Marie 0 Bitominge City 2
“Dee, are you interested in racing?” asked Bullion.
“I thought that nonsense had finished?” answered Gold.
“Not snail racing. Horse racing. Donny is the birthplace of the oldest flat race in the world. The St. Ledger.”
“Is that where that’s run?” said Gold, picking up his interest. “Is it on this weekend?”
Bullion shook his head. “No, its still a couple of weeks before the flat starts with The Linkon, but the Town Moor course has a great history, and I’d love to take a visit. Fancy it?”
“What is there to see?”
Bullion looked at him. “Not sure really. I wouldn’t mind going and having a walk about the place though, when it’s quiet.”
“No, not for me, David. If it were open, I would join you as I love a spot of gambling on the gee gees, but walking around an empty stand would remind me too much of this place,” said Gold.
Bullion nodded, looking over the Quattro Fianco. “How many bums are we down on last year?”
“Over a million,” said Gold.
“I don’t get it. We have been in the top two pretty much all season, and they still haven’t come back? Why?”
“I’m not sure, Dee, but we can’t worry about it. Can we? What’s the point? Let’s toast!” he said, handing Gold his morning gin and juice.
“Here’s to the hairdresser finding a fur coat full of Titan bank notes, and Alsex getting us back up.”
Gold took a big slurp. “Amen to that.”
For the first time this year the Blues outplayed their opponents for the whole game. They filled the midfield and bossed the game with short, sharp passing and opportunistic finishing. Zizane opened the scoring and Hymma Booza added the second just before halftime to kill this clash.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
SPRING FEVER
Bitominge City 1 Nore Itch City 1
“Hope springs eternal in the human breast, man never is, but always to be blest.” Hope and optimism are very important traits when you watch your team. Without them, the quest can become abject or delusional at best—the last two are sure to be recognized by most Blues supporters. Over the years, the Blues have had a habit of building up the supporters’ hopes only to watch them fade and die. The contents of Pandora’s box are what most underachieving teams fans live for.
Spring is the season of rebirth and growth, the season of urges and inklings. This is where the real season starts, and your team either sinks or swims. Bullion was keen to impress the visiting Delia with some culinary delights of his own and had taken over the Boardroom catering kitchen with his trusty aid.
“Ingot, pass me that blender and check on my chicken.”
Ingot hurriedly pulled out Bullion’s chicken and prodded it with a fork.
“Not that. This,” said Bullion, handing him a thermometer. “Stick this in each one, remember 165 degrees in the meaty part.”
Bullion had cooked twelve Norfolk game hens in two ovens for two hours, and, although he knew they were done, he wanted Ingot to make sure.
“The devil is in the details, Ingot.”
They were smothered in chopped garlic cloves and diced yellow onions and stuffed with lemons. Bullion was finishing off the shrimp crostinis.
“I think we’ll do a carver spread at the far end of the boardroom,” he said, directing the help.
Gold walked in. “What on The Ar is going on here?”
“What does it look like?” asked Bullion wiping his hands down the front of his blue penguin Bitominge apron.
“Why are you cooking? We employ staff for that.”
“I thought it would be a nice gesture for Delia,” said Bullion, turning the blender on to whisk his heavy cream.
“What?”
“I said, never mind. Stop being a grouch and go take care of the match day officials and see if we can curry some favor for a change.”
About 40,000 Nore Itch fans made the journey and were soon singing a charming rendition of the oldest football fan song in the world, “On The Ball, City.”
“What are they singing?” asked Dee Gold.
“It’s a turn of the century song, 1890s,” said Delia.
“No. I mean what are they singing?” he asked again.
“Oh the words?”
“Yes, like our KRO. What are the words?”
“Kick it off, throw it in, have a little scrimmage,
Keep it low, a splendid rush, bravo, gin and juice:
On the ball City, never mind the danger,
Steady on, now’s your chance,
Hurrah! We’ve scored a goal, City! City! City!” Delia sang proudly.
“Bravo Delia,” said Gold, offering her his hip flask. “Wet your lips with this girl.”
“Thank you,” she answered. “I haven’t sang that for a while. It’s been that kind of season.”
And with that, Bitominge took the lead. The Nore Itch keeper unexplainably dropped the ball at Zizane’s feet after his challenge, and he quickly turned and prodded it in to the gapping net.
“Don’t worry, Delia, I’ve got a lovely bit of garlic lemon chicken to lift the spirits,” said Bullion, leaning over Gold to pat her knee.
Gold pushed Bullion back over his side as the game drifted on until the whistle blew for halftime. They all made a fast exit for the boardroom and some of David’s chicken.
“White or dark meat?” asked Bullion.
“I think I’m in the mood for some dark please, David,” answered Delia.
Gold patted her from behind. “That’s my girl.”
And with that, Nore Itch was back in it with a cracker of a free kick from a Dr. Who Nemesis. Nore Itch had been on a bit of a roll of late and had won three out of the last four and was soon taking control of events and unlucky not to have taken more than a point.
Bitominge City 2 Dogheads 0
As clubs go, there aren’t many that can boast a more illustrious history than The Wolves, fourth in all-time league position, eighth in success with a baker’s dozen of major trophies and a laundry list of world class players in their Hall of Fame. Fifty thousand Dogheads filled the away end and sang their hearts out:
“Hi Ho Wolverhampton
And away you go, now Brummies,
I see the sun is shining,
On the razor blades in the pocket lining…”
The hostile environment spilled on to the pitch and in the thirty-seventh minute, things took a turn for the worse when The Shithouse was sent off for serious foul play, reducing the Blues to ten men. This, more than anything, seemed to galvanize the Blues with more steel and grit as they took the lead a minute before halftime, with Zizane bundling home the ball and the keeper.
The Blues sewed the game up when Enter McDragon hit a fifty-yard pass through to Shagger who mimicked a gazelle, before slotting the ball home.
“Two points, David, two points. We’re on them now,” said Gold, pleased.
“Yes, it does make it a climax to the end of the season,” said Bullion, loosening his ushanka.
The Addicts 0 Bitominge City 0
Bitominge City 1 The Hoes 1
A sending off and a contentious penalty left the Blues one down going into the break, but they came back out fu
ll of fight to snatch another point for the promotion push. They should have won this one on paper, but this league doesn’t work like that and have substitute French Fwonk to thank for his bullet header equalizer.
Mind The Gap 0 Bitominge City 1
“Is your mate going to be at this one?” asked Bullion.
“Who?” Asked Gold.
“Reggie?”
“Oh, I don’t know, David?”
“Do you two keep in touch?”
“Not really. If we pass, then we’ll have a chat, but I don’t call him, and he doesn’t call me.”
“What year was that?”
“’76, and it still seems like yesterday.”
“Yes you two were an item. Massive here and in the States.”
“Yes. Number one for six weeks in the UK.”
“So what happened between you two?” asked Bullion.
“He was on a bender one night and finished a bottle of Mother’s Ruin by himself.”
“And?” asked Bullion.
“Well, as you know, we’d been collaborating for a while and he came up to my room and knocked on the door in that state.”
“And?”
“And he said he was going out on the town but wanted a key for later.”
“And?”
“And I didn’t want to give him one.”
“So what happened?”
“He promised me the world if I would give him the key.”
“Go on?”
“He said he would give me carte blanche if I did it.”
“And?” said Bullion.
“I did it.”
“And?”
“He didn’t keep his promise.”
“And?”
“And I told him there and then, don’t go breaking my heart.”
“So that’s where the song comes from?” said Bullion.
“Yes,” Dee answered. “The sad thing is, nobody knows it.”
“Go on give us a tune then,” asked Bullion.
“I couldn’t even if I tried.”
The Blues promotion carousel ride was back on track as they swept aside Mind The Gap with another thoroughly deserved 1-0 victory. Zizane was introduced in the seventieth minute and three later he had made his presence felt, leathering a looping shot past the stranded Bottom Dweller in goal.
Bitominge City 1 Norf End 2
Norf End is another side with a great history. They were original members of the Football League, the first team to win it, and the first to do the double. That was more than a hundred years ago. Now they lumber in the Ligue Deux equivalent, except they don’t travel to places like Grenoble, Ajaccio, or Vannes to name a few, but they end up at places like The Quattro Fianco.
If the Blues win today, they are automatically promoted. Simple when put like that, right? It couldn’t have been a finer day—early sunshine, beers, the odd pie to soak up the alcohol, and a Pandora’s pack lunch. After a nervous first half, where most wore sunglasses, Bitominge moved into gear when yet again the introduction of Zizane made an immediate impact, holding the ball up until he played Enter McDragon through who now found an open Emerald Field at the far toast to put the promotion rush into overdrive.
One up and time to open the pack lunch, only to find fuck all in it. Having The Pork Pie deservedly sent off for his second bookable offence changed the game three minutes later as the Lilywhites urged on by their maddened manager leveled after a bit of loose flapping from the Dressmaker, allowing Eirghe in. Ten minutes later, everyone realized they were still in a Preston fairy tale when Wallace, surprisingly without his canine partner, showed class and stole another pack lunch box.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
WE’LL MEET AGAIN
DON’T KNOW WHERE DON’T KNOW WHEN
Readingritingrithmetic 1 Bitominge City 2
Reading is a complex cognitive process of decoding symbols for the intention of learning information. Riting is the text medium used to display it and rithmetic is the science of adding it all up so it means something. It couldn’t have been more appropriate for Bitominge City to be playing the Berkshire Royals on the last game of the season.
“I didn’t think I could feel this kind of emotion after all these years” said Bullion, sweating in his royal blue and white shell suit.
“Me neither,” answered Gold. “You know them things are a hundred percent flammable?”
“What?” replied Bullion concerned.
“That thing you’ve got on.”
“Oh worry yea, worry wart. Lighten up, nobody’s going to be tossing molatov cocktails today, Dee.”
The match, however, was played with urgency, and buckets of plasma and a win for either team meant automatic promotion. The three Rs had beaten Nore Itch away during the week, and if The Blades only manage a draw away down at Fake Tans then they, my jolly good friend, were up. Hip, hip, hurrah.
So you could see why the likes of Doyle and Hunt were prepared to put their religion on the line and become Sikh Doyle & Sikh Hunt for the last thirty minutes, if it meant going back up. Valor fortunes the brave.
Not in this case, though. The three Rs had loads of chances but couldn’t make them count after they had given their guests a two-goal head start and Bullion’s Blues ran out victorious. The only secret was nobody expected it—except the genius Alsex.
MyQuiche had said it all along, “We’re good enough; we just have to believe a wee a bit.” On this Sunday, they did just that.
Emerald Field and The Lightbulb put the Blues ahead before MyMateJonesie pulled one back for The Royals, but it was not enough. Bullion was ecstatic and overcome with joy.
“Yesssssssss!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, as the final whistle blew six minutes into Spider injury time, which had been allotted for the religious incidents and time wasting.
Bullion jumped all over Gold. “Yessssss! We’re fuckin up!”
Dee twirled his partner around and threw him up in the air. “Yesssss! We’ve done it! Come on let’s go pop some bottles,” he said catching him.
“Well done, Ingot,” said Bullion hugging him. “And you, Alf,” he added with everyone doing a big group hug.
The party lasted way past twelve before they were kindly asked to call it a night. Bullion wanted to carry on partying.
“Where do you want to go now?” he asked Gold.
Gold laughed. “I’m going to bed, David.”
“You can’t.”
“David, it’s late, and I’m tired. Thank you, but I’m going home.”
Bullion accepted Gold’s decision with resignation.
“Well we’re going out, aren’t we Alf?”
Alf nodded. “Absolutely, I’m out for the night.”
Ingot looked drained and ready for bed himself, but as driver, he knew he was going out too.
“Well, Alf, where do you fancy? Uptown? Stop off in Windsor on the way what do you think?”
“Sounds great,” answered Alf.
“Ingot?”
“Yes Boss?”
“Get the motor running, and I’ll say my goodbyes.”
“Yes, Boss,” said Ingot, loosening his tie.
They hit Windsor and Jonas Place first, only he wasn’t there, and the doormen didn’t like the coat Bullion was wearing or what was underneath.
“But I know Jonesie well from his Wasall days.”
“As I said, he’s not here, and the manager doesn’t know you,” said the head bouncer.
“This is ridiculous. Let me in now or your head will roll.”
“Thank you, Sir, but it’s time for you to move along.”
“Why?”
“Sir, please just move along. You’re not getting in tonight, so don’t waste your time any longer.”
Ingot and Alf decided to go and get the car.
“C’mon Boss, let’s go to the West End,” said Ingot.
The M4 was backed up and had been for a couple of hours; it had taken them an hour to get to the M25.
&n
bsp; “Let
‘s take the northbound and swing down at the M40. We’ll be there in half an hour.”
“Very good, Boss.”
Bullion and Alf Gold had polished off half a bottle of Conyak in the back of the car and were starting to feel seriously impaired, and David didn’t like the thought of being rejected again at another club entrance on such a festive occasion.
“Ingot, I’ve had an idea. What about we head north on the M40.”
“Why?” asked Ingot.
“Why not go to the Quattro Fianco for one last celebration this season? Nobody will be there. It’ll be brilliant.”
Ingot looked round through the glass divider at Alf.
“Alf?”
“Sure,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.
“Are you sure?” Ingot asked Bullion again. “It’s a two-hour drive.”
“Positive. Let’s do it,” answered Bullion, swigging from his Conyak bottle.
Ingot looked in his mirror again to confirm.
“Yes,” said Bullion, easing out of his ushanska. “Anyway, there’s something I need to do at the grounds.”
Ingot nodded and followed the flow of cars heading north and settled into his seat. Bullion unzipped his shell suit and did the same thing, turning up his music.
“A young cowboy named Billy Jo…” he began to sing.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
FOOTBALL’S COMING HOME
Bullion kicked off his Russian paratrooper jackboots.
“It’s not what you think, is it?” he said.
“What?” asked a surprised Ingot, looking in his mirror?
Bullion was talking in his sleep.
“Wake up, Boss. We’re here. Alf, wakey wakey,” Ingot said pulling into the car park.
The ground was pitch black as the automatic gates closed behind them. Bullion made his way up to his office in a daze. He turned the lights on and went over to his frog.
“Hello Frenchy. Have you been a good bullfrog?”
Football Fiction Page 17
