This is the most important game of the season, well at least it will be until the next one. It’s an absolutely must win game.
This will be the second occasion upon which Senor Carlos del Cerro Grande has taken charge of one of our matches; and for those with a keen recollection of his contribution to the one all draw with Napoli, (Anfield, Nov 27, 2019) it will be two too many.
And we should not be so sanguine as to suppose that he will look upon us any more favourably on this occasion. We will have to bear our burden with equanimity, suffering the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, as they say.
So, Come on you Redmen, give’m Rockall
Meanwhile, as many might have correctly surmised, Boudica, together with her fellow chatelaines, dowagers and derelicts of the the Lowton & District Townswomen’s Guild, had planned to commemorate the 843rd anniversary of Baldwin IV’s defeat of Saladin, by re-enacting the Battle of Montgisard. Hostilities were to have commenced with a six hour barrage of Lowton St. Mary’s by the massed trebuchet’s of the Ladies of Lowton St. Lukes. (St. Luke’s, as the Mother Church of the parish, has the prerogative of getting its retaliation in first). Unfortunately, due to the lockdown, the planned carnage will have to be a virtual event, much to the relief of constabularies in several adjoining counties, who normally have to cancel all leave in anticipation of the event.
And, in case you thought the ladies of Lowton might have missed it, they will also be celebrating the 185th anniversary of William Newton obtaining the first patent for producing condensed milk, by ending the day with the traditional feast of “lait concentré sur pain” (or Connie Onnie to you and me). Those with a less discerning pallet will well advised to order early to avoid disappointment. As ever, St. John’s Ambulance volunteers, will be on hand for any postprandial distress.
It is a sad but indisputable fact that in this imperfect world genius is too often condemned to walk alone, that is provided the earthier members of the community see it coming and have time to take evasive action. Thanks to a previous intervention by @cynicaloldgit, mine had, until recently, been a similarly lonely path, exiled to the great open spaces of Lowton Moss, in a lonely potting shed on the banks of Hey Brook, miles away from human habitation.
However, all things come to an end, even the weariest river winds somewhere safe to sea, so in happy anticipation of my rehabilitation, I conclude my narrative with the customary invocation:
This game has all the makings of a potential banana skin! (well someone had to say it)
I’ll take a scrappy 1-0 win to us.