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Sat 6th September, 2003 |
Dr Martens Premier League |
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Eastbourne Borough 0 - 2 Hinckley United |
| Hinckley: |
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Whittle |
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Cartwright
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Lenton |
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Crowley |
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Penny
(Goodwin 76mins) |
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Stone |
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Storer |
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Jackson |
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Lewis
|
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Jenkins
(Smith 72mins) |
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Murray
(Dyer 85mins) |
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| Eastbourne: |
| 1. |
Hook |
| 2. |
Baker |
| 3. |
Tuck |
| 4. |
Smart |
| 5. |
Playford
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| 6. |
Holmes
(White 66mins) |
| 7. |
Westtcott
(Yates 66mins) |
| 8. |
Pierce |
| 9. |
Goodwin
(Ducille 83mins) |
| 10. |
Simmonds
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| 11. |
Crabb |
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| Goals: |
| Lewis, 20 mins |
0 - 1 |
| Lewis, 90 mins |
0 - 2 |
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| Half Time: |
0 - 1 |
| Full Time: |
0 - 2 |
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the Hird Dimension: |
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Hello my darlings, well from my stairlift in heaven I've been looking down on
you all, and in particular that lovely football team in red & blue. Me and
Jimi Hendrix love a bit of 'knitting' of an evening and we really can't wait for
Geri Halliwell to join us for a threesome. Knit one, Perl one, deary. So we
thought what better way to pass our time than to follow the Knitter's football
team.
There isn't that lovely, then. |
Hi all, Thora here again reporting from lovely Eastbourne this time, down in
Sussex. You may not be aware of this but the town was the inspiration behind
many of George A Romeros' greatest films - Day of the dead, Dawn of the dead
and Attack of the killer zimmer frames (or was that one of Micheal Winners'?)
I'd always found Eastbourne to be an unassuming, genteel, relaxing place where
us more 'mature' folk could go to get some sea air, leave our wigs off for a
week or so and dance ourselves stupid to the latest pop sounds (courtesy of the
'James Last Orchestra' of course!). My only reservation was always the beach:
don't sit on it for too long or you'll be walking, John Wayne style, to the
nearest doctors surgery to have some rough boulder removed from your rear
crevice! (great fun mind!)
As for the match, it were a belter! Played in a very tidy little ground, the sun
shining and all the 'Knutters' looking very happy after the welcome they had
recieved in the rather splendid social club. A fitting scene to record our first
away win of the season. We started brightly, away games (indeed any games!) are
not easy in this league, and we soon settled and were soon probing and prodding
the opposition (ooeeerrr!) We've got a new lad, all spots and 'peach fluff face
pubes' but he plays like a man. He'd soon scored his first goal for us beating
two defenders in the box and bending it past the goalie from 15 yards. The
'Knutters', noisy as ever, went into overdrive and they were soon joined by a
small bunch of local youngsters who started chanting 'Hinckley's full of wrinklies',
I hadn't laughed so much since our Berts' colostomy bag backfired!
Eastbourne poured forward in the second half but couldn't have scored in a brothel!
(see Jimi's teaching me the lingo). Big Toms' hands must have been freezing as
the Eastbourne strikers were content to have 'who-can-shoot-at-goal-and-miss-by-the-furthest-competition',
desperation was setting in for them and the Knitters back line was being expertly
led by Lord Stuart of Storer a.k.a. Brucie (good game, good game, nice to see you,
to see you.... nice!) Deep into stoppage time we scored again, Wayne Dyer-ear
unselfishly passing to Matt Lewis to score his second. I wish I'd worn a 'Tena lady',
(they're reassuringly absorbent), my gusset hadn't been so damp since I saw George
Formby at the 'Alhambra'.
A brilliant day, match, result etc, only marred by one small thing. Having always
followed the teachings of the Lord, I was shaken, nay, disgusted to see a 'gentleman'
holding two voodoo dolls bound by string behind the Eastbourne goal. He was small,
rather rotund, very pale skin (vampire?), had ginger hair with matching tache
and beard combo, wore an Eastbourne shirt and a studded belt and didn't utter a
word all game. He just stood smoking his pipe, grasping his evil dolls (his spells
obviously don't work.) I asked Jimi if he knew him, but you should never mention
the word 'voodoo' when Jimi's about. I mean, how long can a guitar reprise last.
I don't think Jimi saw most of the second half he was too busy making love to his
guitar. Harry Secombe would never approve. In mind of the above description I
named him 'ABO' (Albino Bill Oddie) 'cos that's what he looks like. Should fans
of any other clubs spot him, ring 999 and have him arrested for crimes against
fashion and being in possession of offensive facial hair likely to cause distress.
Tatty bye for now, God bless my darlings. |
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