Sunday, July 26, 2009

Athletes

Hey guys. I'm the blogger. I am happily married to my wife, we have to kids and I'm doing they're aunty on the side. My hobbies are woodwork, photography and music. I used to like Kings of Leon a lot before they started playing them on 2dayFM.

Being a blogger is like an episode of Beyond 2000, fucking awesome! This weekend was great. We went from the lows of getting a game stolen from us to snatching a draw from our arch nemesis. Lemme break it down:



SATURDAY


Started off great. Got up to a score of 4-2 with some great goals and efforts. Fairclough's back post header was "CENTIMETRE PERFECT" and Dowd's 6 yard tap in went way above the posts. You could've put a goal on top of the goal and it still would've missed.

Either way, the effort put in to get to that scoreline was all for nought because of 3 plays:-

- Mr Cool unfortunately didn't realise you cannot hip check players in the box Fulton Reed style. A bash brother you may be, Pele you are not. While Gunnar Stahl maybe feeling tingly from you laying a guy out, you'll get no BJ action from Julie the Cat thanks to that indiscretion. So next time you are channelling Fulton Reed, just wear a bandana instead.


- It wouldn't be a loss without a Graham Werner incident now would it? From the day you a born, you are told to communicate with the keeper so you can organise your defensive strategy. Graham might as well have sent Price a letter from Cuba when he attempted to call Price's ball from about a metre inside halfway! As soon as Graham and the player he was marking crossed halway, he was yelling out "Keeper's!". Price responded correctly "No". I would have added a few expletives highlighting the laziness of said defender, lack of marking the attacking player and all round defensive inefficiency of defending player. Lay off the Nintendo dude...




- Crazy or Batshit crazy as I like to call him. Well Crazy went fucking mental on Saturday and decided to get in on the Bash Brothers act with little result. I know the guy is called Crazy right, but I was thinking he should be more along the lines of Rain Man cos the dude is retarded. Thanks for leaving us with 10 men. Last week I said by Football Fans, for Football Fans, no dildos. I was wrong, you're the dildo, Rain Man!


..... and that is how the West was lost. Save for those 3 incidents we go on to win 4-2. Head scratcher ain't it?


SUNDAY

I really liked the Sunday game we played this week. There were a lot of positives but most of all I was just happy because the boys played like athletes and not FATletes like normal. The rain tumbled down..... everyone slipped and slid....... Frank got a YELLOW CARD!!!!!!! Awesome!

I will highlight 2 things on today's performance.

No. 1 - The unmarked guy at the top of the box screaming out your fucking name is not doing it to get attention like some bag lady in Taylor Square. No, no, no. He is doing it because if you pass the ball within a 2 metre vicinity of him, he will score. Ill advised pot shots from the corners are the wrong play. We call it Fred Coiro Syndrome (FCS) or Phantom Conscious Ailment (PCA). FCS and PCA basically boil down to the same thing. Where in a game of basketball Fred Coiro would jack up contested 3 after contested 3, sometimes from as far away as 38 feet, he would do so without any regret, remorse or guilt. This is especially prevalent when a teammate is ina better position to make a higher percentage play. The lack of conscious guilt shown when making such a play is the only symptom of FCS or PCA.


Long time FCS and PCA sufferer - Stirling Mortlock

No. 2 - Mr Cool's Redemption and last minute Bruce Lee Enter The Dragon -esque kick to score the winning goal. Hats off to you... I take back what I said, maybe you are Pele. The Indian Pele. Pele Singh, famous for his tikka naan and unruly turban.


P.S. Highlight 3 was:
Referee: "We can't it's a head injury"
Rens: "You're a head injury! ZING!!"

WeTube

Today's ref via youtube.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Fuck Richard Reid

I had a really nice blog planned that would've highlighted our great performance on the weekend but instead my attention was drawn to that fucking moron, Richard Reid and his new blog. I had a nice little piece to run about an exciting victory, Nicolas Deluca screaming "twwwoooooooo" at his bestie Andrew Reynolds after his 2nd goal and some good old fashioned Hutcho beat downs after his personal excursion to NIDA instead of attendance at the Fortress.


Now, let it never be said that I think competition is a bad thing, in fact I welcome it. It just leaves a bad taste in your mouth, kinda like the bad taste Richard Reid left in Todd McKenney's mouth after laste year's Logies. Instead this herpes infested mule:




Whoops. That's the London shoe bomber Richard Reid not the herpes infested mule I was thinking of...... or maybe...... Can you get the internets inside a Colorado Supermax??????? Anyway, I think it's this chicken fucking lunatic that's the opposition blogger:

Richard Reid after visiting the stables finds out you really can have a 3 way with 2 horses - "I fink my jaw 'ill be lock like dis for weeks. Shoulda jus let Makybe this Diva up the batty...."





Like I said I don't mind the competition, normally but I must take issue with the branding of his blog. "Parrots Confidential with Richard Reid" evokes some kind of vagina related female gossip rag. We here at Balls To Feet are opposed to have having any names of any contibuting writers involved with any titular section of our blog. We do not whore ourselves around like a set of phone books at Rove McManus photo shoot. We are Balls To Feet, by football fans for football fans, NO DILDOS! Parrots Confidential is by a cock loving Romanian window washer for drape adoring pansies. Balls To Feet readers have balls between our feet, our nuts are just that fucking big that gravity has taken a hold and they live at our ankles. So you choose, Balls To Feet or Richard Reid's (not shoe bombing guy) balls between your teeth.

Parrots Confidential with Richard Reid (PCWRR) also got another fact wrong! I work off a laptop and the porn key is way bigger than the music key dbag!


Also does Andrew Reynolds really eat pancakes? I went to breakfast once with the dude and he orders a full Englisg Breakfast with a mixed grill on the side. He almost loves meat as much as the non-shoe bombing Richard Reid but in unfathomably different ways. Let me illustrate:




ANDREW REYNOLDS TYPE OF MEAT HE LOVES








TYPE OF MEAT RICHARD REID (NOT SHOE BOMBER) LOVES



Richard is not one to speak about about putting things in arses. I secured an exclusive interview with Todd McKenney. We asked him to pick out of a line up who gave him herpes. The evidence speaks for itself....



"Him. That's the guy that fucked me in the ass, left me in the park in a sex coma with drugs on my person. Richard Reid, I'd come after you so bad if you didn't get me cheap Hannah Montana merchandise you herpes ridden mule!!!!!"

I guess it's up to you guys. Who do you wanna follow? A terrorist or me? If you hate freedom, democracy, breasts, a God given right to porn, red meat, beer and Australia I can see why you would side with a shoe bombing crazy man. I guess it's UnAustralian to follow Parrots Confidential but that's a choice you'll have to make.

Always remember we are Balls To Feet, by football fans, for football fans, NO DILDOS!


Friday, July 17, 2009

The Baloney Fisherman

Nicolas looks up and catches the eye of his best friend. The man he admires, follows and strives to be like. Reynolds looks back at Nick and says "Why are you looking at me weird?"


Nick cannot explain and fumbles for a response "Um.... uh...... look at me???"


"Hahaha, good one" chuckles Reynolds as he laughs off what he thinks is a joke.


"Phew" exclaims Deluca, happy in the knowledge that he escaped an awkward situation with the man he calls number one.


"Now guys" grunts Werner, interupting what was a nice moment, "We need to just shoot more..."

The boys drift off into a temporary slumber as Graham regales them of days gone by when shooting more resulted in scoring goals. The round headed man towards the back of the shrinking crowd wears his sunglasses with purpose, waiting for everyone to notice. The leather vest he sports screams 1 part recently outed lesbian and 1 part Lord of the Rings reenactment enthusiast. He steps forward and with a draw from his cigarette announces "I'm back!".


"Ah, Geoff..." a number of the boys reply with indifference. "Didn't know Geoff's big gay ride on his big gay bike was this big gay weekend. Welcome back you big fruit!"


P.S. Hutcho needs some help rehearsing a scene for his new play and is nervous ask if you'd help him out.

Monday, July 13, 2009

Again....

Once again everyone decides to take holidays before season is over and it has resulted in three of the most fucked things I've ever had to witness.

No. 1 - Werner steering his fat ass around. It looked like he was trying to drive a bus on an ice rink. I can't believe he scored. It's horrible!

No. 2 - Letting a team score 11 against us is just sad. I feel bad for those who I witnessed try their darndest but it was the lazy few that cost them. Whether it was Fairclough having a few Appletinis in the city, Cottee attending a weekend intensive hairdressing workshop to expand his horizons (and work an almost technically impossible 167 hour week) or Reynolds trialling for Australia's Biggest Loser, it was the absentees that cost us. I tip my hat to those brave and true who did their best.

No. 3 - Hutcho should not be allowed internet access when he is on his period cos I just received this:-

"Dear anonamous Blogger, You wanna rib me for not turning up last week, go ahead I can take it. Being injured and turning up to the game I would have still played, because I can't help myself, but not turning up at all with no injury present is just fucked. To those brave sould that turned up today to face a strong 11 man Gladesville side you need a medal or some big fucking trophy. With only 9 men in the first half and driopping to 8 in the second due to Pops having to leave, we played with heart and spirit and never once gave up. Forfeit I hear you say? Would have only lost 3-0 I hear you say? FUCK that. I'd rather go down fighting and lose 11-1 than forfeit a game. Our defence in the first 30 mins was spirited to say the least. We were playing like posessed Parrots. Of course it wasn't going to end up well with injuries to boot and fatigue destined to set in, but not one of us gave up.......NOT ONE. Write about that Mr Absentee......"

I don't understand why I have become the target of his mid-menstrual rage but I shall rebut a few points and clarify some others.

I understand Hutcho's angst over the lack of numbers. To me it is stomach churning but don't for a second think running about in the city and ordering peach schnapps with a girl half your age is an acceptable reason for non-attendance.

Kudos to you! I agree, I'd rather play 90 minutes and get a real result, sense of accomplishment and hang out with Frank than hand in a "not coming to the kick-off, love The Parrots" letter to the ref.

Again, I agree. I had a boner just watching some of you fuckers give it your all. Although Dowd did go missing for large periods in the game for no apparent reason. He did have a hanky and was sobbing the words to Michael Jackson's "Don't Stop Til You Get Enough". MIght have had something to do with it.....

Mr Absentee? Who is that? I defy you to run over to me on your poorly constructed ankles and say that to my face! I was there at Morrison Bay. I witnessed it and I'm pissed of at it too! I don't know who the fuck you think I am so I will tell you. My name is Alex Fucking Dimitriades and I was in The Heartbreak Kid bitch, which then spawned Heartbreak High, home of Drazic so stick that up your ass! So next time you take a Sunday of to go rollerblading at Manly and share milkshakes with some young lady (or boy, I don't discriminate - it's probably a boy though, right?) don't come pointing the finger at me and hurling wild accustaions. I am the Blogger. Insinuating that I am anything less than a demigod is tantamount to heresy. Arsehole...

Sunday, July 5, 2009

"Awww, shit....."



I feel it apt to name today's blog after a quote from the big fat man himself. Hats off to you.

To the fags who didn't show up, fuck you! Way to leave us stranded with 10 men. I also believe our policy at the beginning of the year was injured players still attend matches especially home ones! I know of 2 injuries and those players should have still attended. Hutcho and Deluca..



Actually I am not entirely sure what happened to Lay-Down-Deluca but news has filtered through rather quickly that he was at Captain Snooze picking up a new pillow. Wear the other one out did we champ????

No Hutcho cos Hutcho was in the city. Photo above provides the evidence but he was also seen in LA sporting a blonde actress as pictured below. Crazy times!

Who knows what he'll do next? Everyone is going to his next play though. I have a camera set up and a red light ready to stick out the front. Shirts off and pucker up Hutcho, you'll be kissing some dude named Steve!

If anybody is interested, I'm collecting money for a present for Cottee. I know he's 26 and played soccer for almost 20 years but I thought it was about time we all invest in buying Cottee a copy of "MY FIRST BOOK OF SOCCER RULES"! I'll highlight the passage about hacking knees from behind in the box equals a penalty...... What a guy......

Remember when Werner sat on the ball and it almost popped? Jerk.....

This game pissed me off. At least I picked up the new book by Geoffrey Werner & Hayden Cooper called 'The Mechanics of Love - A Couples Guide to Port Douglas'. Good read.....

P.S. Dowd as spotted in Melbourne with some locals.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Excerpts From A Lovely Life - Frank's Twitter

My name is Frank and I'm the cause of a whole new generation of addicts. Some people like me but most people love me and they are diagnosed Frankaholics. You can bask in the glow of my awesomeness and join your fellow man to admire how freaking sweet I am. Just read my lessons of life and enjoy it. Here are my twitter entries from my day....

12:49pm: Decide it's time for a walk. Outshine the sun.....

1:32pm: Download the new Miley Cyrus single off iTunes. Delete it after one listen when I realise it sounds nothing like Achy Breaky Heart.

2:16pm: Can't be bothered doing situps for my abs. My abs agree and instantly grow. I look like Peter Andre from hip to shoulder.

3:24pm: Sick of abs. Tell them to go back to normal.

4:01pm: Get called to hospital to help sort another child out. Poor kid had a lazy eye. I present my beautiful face and immediately the kid's eyes look at me. Another miracle performed. I thought everyone knew that you need 2 eyes looking directly at Frank, to handle the beauty.

4:02pm: Kid's head explodes from my beauty..... Darn side effects....

4:47pm: Call my mate Willie Nelson. He's flying out this week just to hang out. We're getting matching American Indian tattoos. He smokes so much weed.......

5:29pm: Saw a Lady GaGa film clip. Does anyone get her?

6:01pm: Prawns for dinner. I thought I told Hutcho I don't eat shellfish as a main! I'm gonna have to choke a bitch!

7:01pm: Home & Away is on.... Boring!

7:47pm: Went to Hooters. Looks like I am expecting 8 junior Franks in about 9 months.....

8:36pm: Tired after the 9 way with the Hooters girls. too many Buffalo Wings. I'm going to bed.....

Graham Goes Goth.......