top of page

The Banker 15

A Match Report

As is tradition, the Men's 2s have not submitted a single match report this season. I'm disappointed in them but it's understandable, it takes a brave person to make the assumption that any of them are literate or cognisant. During match teas they all enjoyed their weekly Sock-off, relishing in the bright colours and shapes that adorned each of their feet; languishing when exposed to dreary colours or unsettling patterns. The Gentle General, for example, has socks patterned with little red cars. “Beep beep,” he honked his imaginary horn and the other's immediately followed suit, Silly Syph, as always, taking delight in making the engine noises. From across the table Kiddie Keys looked particularly covetous of General's socks, “I want the ones with the red cars,” he sulked and alongside him, Little Louis, still a toddler in the club, nodded his doe-eyed approval, pointing enthusiastically at the tiny red motors, almost toppling out his seat with excitement. As the Gentle General began stopping to make deliveries at Ankle-Bone Station and Mt Big Toe we decided to leave him to his guileless miniature fantasy world.

Bully Bollock furrowed his brows at me and twisted his face into a leer, “how many stars are on your jumper?” I answered 3 because I thought he meant the big stars but he'd already broken into a sneer, “Wrong! You owe me money!” he chided, rattling a plastic tub full of 2ps and buttons under my nose. I was all out of buttons and so Gentle General wrote my name down as BAD DEBT and said he'd tell Mischievous Mace all about me if I didn't pay. Coming out of his sulk Kiddie Keys turned transfixed to the stars on my jumper, “which constellation is it?” But before I could answer Bully Bollock had intercepted the question, “my mum says that my star sign makes me special,” which Silly Syph considered seriously for a moment before being distracted by his zip and blowing bubbles in his juice.

As the tots engaged in their games, Dad Platts was selling raffle tickets with the reluctant assistance of Half-baked Harry who had been nominated as Dipstick of the Day for trying to knock Naive Ned off his tricycle earlier in proceedings. Half-baked Harry had pestered his dad for months to buy him a push car of his own, even if he was the youngest and daftest in the playground. As Naive Ned was peddling as fast as he could to get home from Naughty Norton, Harry closed his eyes and went backwards in his car as fast as he could towards Ned. Fortunately for everyone Ned was able to swiftly dodge the attack and escape uninjured. At first Half-baked Harry refused to stand up and sell tickets for being a dipstick but Dad Platts was having none of it, he'd had a rough week after Silly Syph threw a tantrum at Tuesday training, so he grabbed Harry by the hand and told him to up-sell to the nice Bankers people.

“I've got a girlfriend,” Bully Bollock bragged from the corner, “and she really likes me. Look, I gave her this plastic ring.” Little Louis clutched at Kiddie Keys' jumper and whimpered “what are girls like?” Kiddie Keys was still vacant, his attention consumed by the stars on my chest and his mouth forming an 'O' of wonder, or perhaps it was an 'O' of worry as he realised he'd filled his nappy for the 3rd time in one day. But where was Rob the Rotter?

Rob was crying again in his safe space. I asked him what was wrong and he turned to look at me, weepy-eyed and snotty-nosed and spluttered “b-but when you went to M-Morpeth you won, it's not fair! Everyone says it's because Dad Platts was c-captain b-but I'm r-really goo-ood,” before bursting into tears once more and burying his head in his elbows.

In the end everyone agreed that General looked like a Shoe and that Ned had the ugliest shoe/sock/trouser combo that had ever appeared on earth. Maverick or Pervert, you decide.

SUBHC Men's 2s 1 - 1 Richmond Men's 1s

 

Other Updates

Payment is now due for EoSM. Details can be found on the Facebook page or can be requested from your captains (or Club Captain Dickie Mason).

Please do pay now before we either:

A.) Release the Dachshunds!

B.) Harass you with a Deep Heat equipped Ned; Blonde Bear is forever traumatised.

C.) Repossess your house.

Or D.) Make you responsible for feeding Rawhide.


It would also be advisable to let your captain know if you have any dietary requirements, such as Alistair Cook who has a hummus allergy. If you are Alistair Cook and have a hummus allergy, please let Lost know so he can make the arrangements as the hummus to carrot ratio may not be ideal at Hillsborough.

Final thoughts for this week, shout-out to Fruitbat for the freakishly folk-lore filled match report. I have no idea if you had to google those sayings or if as a child your parents only referred to the outside world in riddles. Two weeks old now but the Ladies 2s have been playing with 'pzaz,' which is exactly the kind of flair we've all been missing, and Strudderz commented on someone's “bilateral flaps,” which is exactly the kind of comment that can make a person deaf or blind by choice, Mace might even force me to remove any mention of “bilateral flaps” from The Banker. And last but not least, Hannah Jenkins gets a well deserved DoD for referring to Bankers as Hallam, forcing their MoM Emma to write the match report, and then claiming to have been a proud member of The Maroon Platoon. That's not how you make friends.

Good luck to everyone this week, not much hockey left now!

Comments


bottom of page