Match report: Newcastle v Barcelona [Soccer /Footie/Fútbol Americano]

Final Score; Newcastle 2 Barcelona 1234567 7

We joined battle for a traditional 5.30 Wednesday night kick-about down on the Costa-del-Packet, made available on satellite courtesy of The Drax corporation and Cameroon Royal Media Inc.  Remarkably, given Switzerland's reputation as the dental gold standard for corruption and selling arms to both sides in any conflict, & being founded in a scout hut by Otto Skorzeny, the Ref was mostly good.  So, I have to complement the officials, apart from the statutory Joe Linton early booking, [just in case], the officiating was not overtly corrupt, a first for a UAFA cup match.  

Newcastle played in tradition black & white with white shorts & socks - so apart from half a dozen anaemic stripes - we played in white, like virgin sacrifices before Baal, or what ever squid based monster eats local Spanish children.  The Officials in yellow and black buzzed about like wasps around a paella, imperiously gesturing with their matching custard yellow cards.  There are still sporadic random outbreaks of the mysterious & yet to be explained holey sock phenomenon, presumably it's a secret cult thing, like trainers on phone lines.  Barcelona played in a traditional purply bluey palmiest of sponsors with references to kicking races out of football, and a remarkable resemblance to the back of Donald Trump's hand.

Unlike say Liverpool, who look like a team of cartel hit men trying to look inconspicuous, Barcelona are cast of characters.  Most notably, their names were emblazoned in a very chatty Italic font on their backs, which, a bit like the rules, I had problems deciphering.  My favourite was someone called Cubist spent the entire game having his head been fattened from all directions, and Pedri who kept putting his foot in.

Meanwhile a mysterious figure in minimalist mask, appeared to be hopeless attempt to disguise himself as the Count of Monte Christo.  Simultaneously with action  an advertising hoarding was imploring people to "Just Eat", something I had mastered by the time I went to Big School,  although, quite what e- coli infested mollusc based pie was available in the stadium, I shudder to think.  

Sometime, shortly after the traditional break for oranges (another suspiciously Spanish product), the wheels came off the cuddie, and we watched on helplessly as the big boys stole our lunch money.

The Lads

On the subject big boys, Voldemort, our ersatz German striker, whose special power is the ability make himself invisible visible at will, failed to make an impact.  He embodies two pet hates,  players reluctantly trudge back on side, causing the move to break down, and not joining the a press; go together or not at all.  Big Tony Elanga, got a brace, he's great coming onto it, but his close ball control is lacking, but will come with regular practice.

Out of possession we set up 4 5 1 🠆, in possession it gets all very triangular, although we miss Bruno, who actually knows how to use a slide rule.  For someone named after a bridge, Barnes is very light footed, tiptoeing through their defence like a bipedal show pony.  Joe Linton had the Club Hand Bandage [CHB], as opposed to Captain's arms band [CAB] worn by Burn [DAN], which is handed to the substitute player [SUB] if captain [CAP] is being substituted [SUBDOF] with permission of the official [REF], supervised by the forth official [SOB].  

On subject of hated pets, you can add corners that hit the first man or drop into the arms of the goalie like you are teaching an infant to play catch.  Eddie Howe mysteriously waved his arms about like he was landing Corsairs on the Ark Royal in a 27 knot cross wind - eat your heart out Drach [4]

Notes were passed to Hall for Trippier to read, proving at least one of them is literate.  The ref waved his match matching yellow card, and they adjourned to the hot tub for some citrus fruit, [not yet perused by the camera team but I fear Sky Dong Cam is not far away].

What happened next I don't know because the dog ate remote control and I fell asleep and dreamt I was escaping to victory in a Canoe.  Chow, a player named after a foodstuff, suffered a severe attack of Gravity, Chow like Bambi on ice, perhaps some paella disagreed with him.  Ramsey and Ramsdale a fine pair of tups, showed some Pennine grit, and stood out.  Toonali was being Latin, buzzing about like a Vesper with a sting in it's tail, with Hall tacking majestically down our port wing we were set fair for some serious jolly rodgering.  Burn was fire fighting, last ditch tackles, then apparently Trippier touched the ball, and with a Gallic shrugs and hand gestures a penalty was awarded, trips having been adjudged to have handled the ball with his mit. 

It was the worst defeat since 1589, when Drake, an English pirate, known for setting alight to facial hair, and famously making off with some 8 of pieces of gold, had sought revenge on the Spanish in/on/with / aboard The Revenge. *  Previously, he had forcing them to sail round Scotland, and giving rise to generations of dark, hansom and surprising intelligent Welshmen like Tom Jones & Shirly Bassey.  Talking of Genetic outliers, Gordon's ongoing struggle with the politics of  football, found him starting on the left, only to drift to the right, annexing Kieran Trippier living space.

I noted as my writing scrawls off,  the drums - the drums in the deep. . . . they're coming,  so I missed the rest of the second half.  

It's all Greggs fault, now they are available nationwide, the principle motivation for moving to Newcastle has gone - its assets stripping.  I blame  Margert Thatcher; and the Norwegians, and Swiss, and as for the Belgians with their chocolate that looks and tastes like  . . . .

Notes 

* Delete if or where  inappropriate.  1. NUFC branded Stab vests & the new Black & White mace is a discreet alternative to a bulker weapons  2. Any resemblance to actual players, officials, living, dead or not yet fully reincarnated, is entire  coincidental; not.  Further and henceforth, it should be noted that the forgoing is, and will be found to be, without exception fictitious, fraudulent, without foundation, and that in all respects, that all statements on all matters, including this one, are baseness.  3. All facts and statements pertaining to individuals, official bodies, commercial companies, or charities, however so constituted, has been systematically and rigorously fact checked, and scrutinised by our fictitious, imaginary, and probably  hallucinatory legal team.  4. With the possible of Drach, who despite coming from Essex, is convincingly real, and as he knows why some ships sink, while others float, and he must be considered a human expert, and not Ai generated.  https://www.youtube.com/@Drachinifel