AT PIE MANSIONS (3) ...

GAME 29. JANUARY 26 2016.
CITY GRAHND
FOREST 0 QUEENS PARK LADIES 0

Where have you been, Vetch?

- I'm sorry, sir. I have been giving a statement to a member of the local constabulary.

Good grief, they've not found the bodies, have they?

- Not at all, sir. It is but a trifling matter with which you need not concern yourself.

Good.

- Will that be all, sir?

The match, Vetch. How did our brave Foresters fare against the Ladies of Queens Park?

- You didn't go, sir?

Alas, no. My lumbar flaccidity limits my attendance these days. I see from the newspaper that the match was void of goals. That doesn't sound very inspiring.

- It was, as you say sir, not an inspiring spectacle. The entertainment was at best middling. There was a brief period of heightened expectation when the boy Osborn struck a post and the German fellow Tesche saw a fulminating shot hit the bar, and even when their goalkeeper saved well from a Mancienne header. There were brief moments of alarm when our goalkeeper De Vries made some outstanding saves. Apart from that, several factors conspired to produce a hard boiled egg of a game. The wind was uncooperative, the crowd seemed distracted by its own affairs, and the two teams played with the torpid resignation of two teams who have played each other too often for their own good.

Good grief, Vetch, that's not going to get us into the play-offs, is it?

- Perhaps not, sir. But only a fool would expect that much this season.

A fool, you say? Are you calling me a fool, Vetch?

- Indeed I am not, sir. I was referring to the ruffian seated to my left, who spent the entire match berating the players and the manager for not providing him with the excitement he felt he was entitled to. I tried to explain to him that stability and consistency were desirable attributes, especially this season, with our brave club facing so many vicissitudes. I tried to tell him that a twelve game unbeaten run might be considered impressive by some. I tried to tell him that we were one Assombalonga away from being a top team, and until then he should be prepared to make do with mid-table fare occasionally spiced with above average achievement.

Really, Vetch?

- Indeed, sir.

You're a wordy b@stard, aren't you Vetch?

- If you say so, sir.

I do say so, Vetch. If I were this ruffian you speak of, I would probably have taken a swing at you.

- Indeed he did try, sir, but I beat him thoroughly about the head and rendered him senseless.

Good grief.

- Sadly, that was when the local constabulary became involved.

Oh I see.

- Yes sir, a most unfortunate incident.

Most unfortunate. But, as they say, onwards and upwards, eh? How is the fragrant Missis Vetch these days?

- She has a broken leg, sir, sustained in a riding accident.

But we don't have a horse, do we?

- She'll be fine sir, thank you for asking. Will that be all, sir?

Not quite. Who do the Foresters play next?

- That would be in the Football Association Cup, against Watford.

Well that sounds like a piece of cake. Where are Watford these days - League Two or something?

- Indeed not, sir. Watford are doing reasonably well in the Premier League.

What, that tin pot little Welsh outfit?

- You may be thinking of Wrexham, sir.

We're playing Wrexham?

- No, sir. We're playing Watford.

Good grief Vetch, I don't understand a word you're saying. Now go away and busy yourself with Missis Vetch, or something.

- Very well, sir.