The Grant Gurnhill football and mayhem blog.

Aye-carumba peeps! Tis Dobbio di Savageo ‘ere wi’ me Euro blog for t’week!
Tuesday night saw the first of the pointless games as Arse-nil travelled to Turkey to take on Gateausarray. Arse-nil were already through, Gateausarray would end the night and group stage with the second worst GD from all the groups, and it showed as they capitulated and Arse-nil finally played a game with confidence and swagger. If they played more like this in the Prem, they’d drop far less points. They eventually hammered the Turkeys 4 - 1, Kaaron Shamsey’s stunning strike from t’other side o’ the country being the pick o’ the bunch. Arsey still moaned afterwards, telling me ‘Dobbeeeee. Theez sandweeeeches are all Turkeeeee, and not a deeeelight at all.’ Whinging twat.
The night’s other tie was the car-crash we all expected what wi’ Ditherfool’s form at home this season, and particularly in the Chumpion’s League. Basil took zonal defending to an absurd level when their player, Cheatingbastardoffski felt a hand in his near proximity so fell to the ground as the Ditherfool player’s gravitational field re-arranged his face for him. Shocking. They need more officials around the pitch in my opinion… Playing uphill, with legs tied together, against a battalion, in a weather bomb would have been easier than the Dithers’ task at this moment of their season. They finally went behind as expected, and despite Stevie SlipperG (we don’t need him anymore - he’s past it. What we need is all these superstars that we paid big money for with the Suarez fee…) Sorry, I digress. Stevie slapped in an awesome freekick, showing Brenda and his trannie lovers just what they’re gonna miss when he tells them to stuff their shitty offer and retires at the end of the season. Shocking way to treat a legend. Chelski would never do that to one of their prodigal sons… So Ditherfool became the only Brit casualties of the group stage. Better concentrate on the league Brenda, because any team that spends the money that Twittering Shitspurs did has to be challenging for the title…Oh shit… I caught up with Brenda afterwards in the local trannie stripclub. ‘I could ‘ave bin a contender,’ he moaned to me drunkenly. Yeah right.

Wednesday saw Mantreasurechester City travel to Aroma, wi’ 3 teams tied on 5 points all wi’ a chance o’ going through t’knockout stages. City basically needed t’win this ‘un. Pelicani decided to field Nascari as a forward, seemingly throwing Aroma into confusion. In a hard fought contest Pelicani saw is weird tactic bear fruit as Nascari netted on the hour, leaving Aroma wi’ an even bigger uphill battle to qualify; would a draw be enough for any team in this group? Risky. Both teams had no choice but to go for the 3 pointer. Aroma’s pressure came to nothing as the inevitable breakaway saw Zabaglioni with a nosebleed in the area where he managed to net a second killer goal, leaving Aroman hearts broken and City fans aglow. The draw should be interesting… I spoke to Zabaglioni in the showers after the game. ‘Sorry Dob mate, but me bloody nose won’t stop bleeding. Pass the shampoo will ya’. Indeed I will, Pablo, indeed I will. And did.
In t’other game o’night, we saw Chelski travel pointlessly to Shamford Bridge to welcome Notsosporting. They should have both gone home then as Chelski had nothing to play for, and Notso had Notsomuchasachance. Joseki surprisingly picked a strong line-up, not opting for resting key players for the weekend. It paid dividends, even though all the win would do is send a message to the teams going into the next round that Chelski were serious about the trophy and weren’t taking prisoners. It only took 8 minutes for the Blues to gain a penalty and a 1 goal lead, which was doubled in another 8 minutes as the deadly German Andrew Shirker popped up to finish. Shortly after the break, Notso gave themself hope as Silva slivered in with a goal that Chelski extinguished within 6 minutes to effectively finish the tie. To be honest, it was a comfortable home tie for the Blues as
they march on with purpose to the knock-out stages. The draw should be really interesting… I spoke to Joseki after the post-match interviews had been concluded. ‘I hate the press in this country. But not you Dobbie. Can we have children together?’ Er, no.
And that’s it peeps! Another climatic climax to a Chumpion’s League gruelling group campaign. And so we enter the knock-out phase and the real candy of the sweet shop. 3 Brits in the final phase. Aye-carumba! Can’t wait!
Thursday night we moved on to the Europ-on-a-ropa League, where we found 3 more Brits battling for the next phase o’ the comp. Less battling and more a kick-about in truth as all 3 were guaranteed progression t’ next round, unless UEFA decide Twittering Shitspurs were naughty boys for pitch invaders last match. Wi’ those cheeky chappies in charge o’ rules an’ regs, anything is possible. I reckon a 12 grand fine should cover it…
And it’s to Shite Farm Lame we go first, where Twittering managed to yet again prove that 100 million spent don’t guarantee jack. After finally reaching the final whistle in possibly the longest game in footballing history - at least, it felt that way, Spurs lost to the odd goal in - er - one. Pottygeno met me in the bar after t’game, where he told me, ‘You know Dobbie, I wish I’d kept the receipts for this lot - that way I could get a refund.’ My thoughts exactly Potty.
Neverton hosted Krazydoor in a game that saw Roberteo Martini-shaken-not-stirred field his second string in a move that would have driven Joseki Chelski mad. Going down 1-0 left the Blues with no extra points, but with the top of the group position already secured, it was a good experience for the young bloods that will no doubt be Neverton’s future hope in years to come. Roberteo spoke to me after the final whistle. ‘Have you ever tried monkfish tails pan-fried with garlic Dobbie?’ Er, nope. Weirdo.
Last match report of the night was the craziest but most entertaining as Celtic faced the crazy Croats of that magician Dynamo. He must be earning good money to afford his own team! Celtic put in a good performance but 12 mad minutes saw them ship the 3 goals that ultimately cost them the tie, 4-3. Ronny Deal-or-no-deala lamented after the game, ‘I think the problem is that they scored more goals than we did, Dob. What do you think?’ I think you’re on a steep learning curve mate. Good luck wi’ that.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand that’s it for this week peeps!
Last night’s results were irrelevant in the scheme of things as all 3 Brit teams qualified, joining the 3 from the Chumpion’s League to leave the land with a good half dozen teams in the knock-out phases of the 2 comps. That’s a good showing in anyone’s book.
And so we move to the sharp end of the European comps, where each game is the last if performances don’t match expectation. It’s time for the players to play and the managers to earn their salt. The next few months will show who is up to the job, and who is up the creek without a paddle.
One thing’s for sure peeps - it’s gonna be fun, it’s gonna be entertaining - and it’s gonna be nerve-shredding for some. Can’t wait!
I’ll be back next Tuesday wi’ me usual Prem round-up.
Tara till then peeps!