|First up was a 1-1 draw as nerd Everton v nerd Liverpool. Notable for nought except my increasingly excessive, aggressive and, it must be said, inventive swearing as my players seemed to run slower and slower as the game ground on.|
Not sure if it's just that my opponents are better, having reached the giddy heights of level 14, but their players seem quicker to the ball than my lot, who stand their waiting for it - especially Yakubu. I've put Rodwell at right back to add a bit of zip but to no avail.
Next up a defeat to nerd Chelsea as nerd City (City are my alternate team at the mo, or Chelsea). I got absolutely battered and the worse it got the more I'd physically move the controller in the direction I wanted to go, like it's a Nintendo Wii or an errant child on a lead.
This was followed by another turn as nerd City and this time it was nerd Bayern Munich in our way. I was getting absolutely walloped so switched to a five man midfield to try and stem the tide and grind out a draw as their tippy tappy twinkletoes gobshites Robben and Frankenstein tried to dance their way through to goal.
The whole game seemed to be played in and around my area then, in the 89th minute, Lescott finds Silva who skips round his marker and makes for the byline leaving nerd defenders trailing. He whips the ball in and there arriving at the near post is Ballotelli who heads home to send the home crowd (me in my undies) wild. I may have dropped to my knees and double v-d the telly at this point.
Bayern, nine shots, eight on target. City, one shot, one on target. I declined the rematch and repaired to bed.
Apropos of nowt, but I don't like having my testicles touched. Certainly not in, say, the supermarket, but also during sexual interplay. This may seem an odd thing to add here but is there ever a good time to bring it up?
(Incidentally, if you can offer any help as to why the other lot are always quicker than me please do. Nerd togger, not the other thing.)