Stress & Pie (a bit late)

FOREST 3 BOLN 0
Mackie, Reidy, Lansbury

JAM FOR TEA
Go on Grandad, tell it again.

Oh come on, kids. It was so long ago I can barely remember it all.

You always say that, Grandad, and you always remember.

I do, don't I? Tell you what - I'll tell the story, then you go straight to bed.

Okay Grandad.

Okay. Well, it was a match against Dougie Freedman's Bolton.

Dougie Freedman was an evil man, wasn't he Grandad?

No, not evil, just a little foolish. He'd been whining to the local press about how Forest were spending lots of money to buy points. It didn't go down very well, especially since Bolton had had the benefit of millions in parachute payments. Do you remember what parachute payments were?

They were Sky money from the Premier League, weren't they Grandad? Sky were evil, weren't they Grandad?

No, not evil - just greedy and manipulative. But anyway, Freedman's comments gave a sharper edge to a match which was always seen as a test for both teams.

The match Grandad. Tell us about the match.

Well, it couldn't have begun better for Forest. Majewski slid a perfect ball through to Jamie Mackie, who slotted it into the bottom corner beyond the Bolton keeper.

Hurray! Majewski had a magic pole, didn't he Grandad?

No - Majewski was the magic Pole.

And Mackie was the duck-footed assassin, wasn't he Grandad?

If you say so. Anyway, after that storming start -

Storming start. Hurray!

After that storming start, Forest let the game slip a bit. Bolton began to look lively, without ever really threatening.

Because they were evil crap, weren't they Grandad?

No, not evil crap - they just didn't have much in the final third. Forest let them have the ball too much in the middle, but they got nowhere near threatening our goal.

Because Forest had the best defence since for ever, didn't they Grandad? They had the beast Hobbs, and the elephant Wilson -

- the elegant Wilson -

- and him, and Cohen the Barbarian, and the classy Lee Charge. What a defence, eh Grandad?

Well, to be honest, they didn't have much to do defensively. The two teams huffed and puffed a bit, Bolton got frustrated and started doing some naughty things...

Evil things.

...the referee went on holiday, Freedman got dog's abuse from A-block, then it was half time.

Hurray for half time! What about the other players, Grandad?

Well, the second half began, and it wasn't long before Majewski -

With his magic pole.

- crossed to the far post, where Reidy -

The stout Irish wizard.

- somehow managed to balance himself on the wrong foot and clip it into the net. It was a wonderfully manufactured goal. Even Reidy seemed surprised at the quality of it. It signalled the end of Bolton's belief, certainly.

Hurray for the stout Irishman! Bolton were evil, weren't they Grandad?

No, not evil - just a bit... weak. Their defence was exposed as leaden, their midfield was being outfought, and their manager was hiding glumly in the dugout. There was no leadership from anywhere. They simply didn't have the heart to fight back.

And we had the Arabian Prince and the scowling Lansbury, didn't we Grandad?

The Arabian Prince?

Yes Grandad. Guedioura was the Arabian Prince with a curved sword and a moon white horse.

Where do you get this stuff from? Guedioura was just a very good player - wayward at times, but the beating heart of Forest's midfield. Anyway, after Pratley got himself sent off -

Pratley was evil, wasn't he Grandad?

No he was not evil. He was just nowhere near as good as he thought he was. He had a history of naughty tricks, and it came as no surprise when he got his second yellow. I think he was just a mardy sod who wanted to be sent off.

And then we took them apart, didn't we Grandad?

Well, we scored again. Halford crossed for Lansbury to plant a neat header through a small gap into the net. Another fine goal. Three nil.

Hurray for the scowling Lansbury. And to think, Halford was only there because Henderson had a bone in his leg. Halford was nine feet tall, wasn't he Grandad?

Well, nearly. It's not often you see tall footballers with that amount of skill. He actually hit the post, you know. I think he was man of the match. Very fond of Halford, we were.

And then we tore them apart, didn't we Grandad? We tore them limb from limb and gnawed on their bloody bones, like wolves.

We certainly should have done, but it didn't quite work out like that. Forest were so far on top they ended up taking the mickey. It was a bit like a comic opera near the end.

So much for the great test, eh Grandad?

So much for the great test. Bolton and their manager skulked away, Billy Davies punched the air, and the crowd roared him and his players to the echo. Top of the league we were.

Cont...