Menisken IF - Gothenburg Celtic FC 0-2
We wis doon oan
Heden playin fitba, when the Doctor, naturally him being responsible fir
the team ethics an aw that, screamed oan top oaf his fuckin lungs:
F**ta! an gets the red caird, the cunt. Shamefully he walks oaf the
pitch. The wee Celtic lads standin smookin oan the sidelines didnae
understand shite. Askin us whae jist happened.
Ah said cunt, says Doc, ye cannae say that an fitba or ye gets thae red caird.
Fuck,
even ah never hud the red caird fir sayin anything, says Calle P whae
once got the red caird fir kicking doon oan a trash can by the
sidelines.
So now wir doon tae ten against eleven n they huv tougher cunts oan the sides. Smokin n drinking, well, something.
Menisken
whae hud almost aw oaf the first fahkin period, now's up against some
hard fuckin competition. Even Pontan whae got really doon when he saw
that the other team wir warmin up by smoking, realizing that he wasnae
the toughest cunt on Heden coming here oan his motorcycle n aw still
fights oan oot there. Some oaf us re also nae fit and well trained, n
Doc hud his nice goal not being okayed by the ref. before he said f**ta,
so wir nae overly optimistic.
Before aw this there's some oother
shite been gauing oan too. First the referee didnae show up so we hud
tae borrow a high-class ref whae jist did a fitba match before oors.
Also thir wis lassies playin oan the pitch before us so we hud tae wait
before we like could warm-up proper. Then the game began n as ah said we
ooned it at first but now it felt a wee bit like it hud aw gone doon
the drain. Ten playirs isnae much and ah didnae think that Sven showing
up in tweed like some fakhin english lord got them oot a balance either.
Even so, the team really fights it.
N nae bad if yir askin
mae. Wir killing thae game oot their. Playing them like they nivir bin
played before. Haulding thae ball, passing it n shite.
Still oaf course the Celtics gets thir chances now n then, up tae the point where they fuckin score. 0-1.
A nice shot oan a half-volley impossible tae take fir our goalkeepir.
He was flyin through the air but coudnae dae anythin but wave at the ball.
The cunt oaf a ball didnae even wave back.
Eftir the halftime we coulnae have tried more fir an equalizer than we, wee cunts did.
Mattias,
played like nae auld cunt, ah ken tell you that. He was the player oaf
the game if ye ask me. Shite, we had at least a couple oaf gid chances,
thein n thir.
Lidas almoast daein a goal aw by humself, runnin like a
fakhin cunt aw across the pitch fae the defense tae thir
penalty-shootin area jist tae loose the ball to some fuckin Celtic
playir whein he gets their.
Still they eftir a lot oaf strugglein managed tae score anothir goal. 0-2. Them cunts.
That wasnae enough fir us though n we bit in till the very last minute.
Couldnae be helped though so we lost.
Went home with lowered heids but, in a wey, wi high sperits.
Us cunts.
Maj10
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