Last night's nerd togger - a new dawn

My vanquished opponent

Friends, come gather for the future is here. It is bold, it is fearless, it transcends the physical and ethereal worlds. It stands firm, chest out, and defies resistance. All hail my new 3-5-2 nerd togger formation.
There are some issues - Howard is still occasionally awful - but the overall effect is ace.
But the problem of Everton's lumbering attacking moves is no more - where once there was Cahill stood in the middle waiting for Fellaini to amble along, now there are players zooming everywhere. Overlaps, diagonal runs, defenders left flailing - it's all here.
Remember United battering Norwich at Carrow Road in about 92? It's like that.
The line up is: Howard. Back three of (right to left) Heitinga, Jerjelka, Distain. Rodwell and Fellaini in the middle. Arteta on the right with Baines on the left, then Cahill behind Saha (left) and Beckford. The former Leeds man misses as many as he scores (at least) but he is murder to knock off the ball, and he is quick - a novelty for Everton, nerd or real.
The beauty of this formation is you always have bodies in the attacking half, while the three at the back are reasonably solid.
Fellaini and Rodwell are always available for a pass while in possession and also make it difficult for opposition nerd troops to get through the middle.
I've actually tweaked it a touch from the 3-5-2 in the formations list but I can't remember what I did - possibly pushing Cahill a bit further forward. You getting this, ladies?
I've sacrificed some possession - with 4-5-1 I was having all the ball but not scoring - but it's worth it for the increased number of scoring chances. A key point as the nerd Toffees miss an awful lot.
Possible the best thing is Baines - playing this far forward he can get some ace crosses in. He's also quick enough to get back and defend.
Arteta is still a problem and he's there mainly for free kicks, but Heitinga is just behind when the nerd Spaniard is shrugged aside by some nameless Spurs oik.
Does this formation really work? Put it this way, against nerd Liverpool I now expect to win, whereas before I had half a chance. I think I've lost once against them since playing this way. It works against most teams but Chelsea are trickier, I often revert to 4-3-1-2 for them.
In the last few days - yes, this is a scientific study - I have stuffed Liverpool (several times), Bayern Munich, Roma, Lazio, Marseille, PSG, Spurs, Villa, Arsenal, City and more. All with 3-5-2 for at least a third of the game - a good nerder knows one must occasionally tweak to counter events in play.
So there it is my fellow tough guys who have no trouble talking to girls - this is my gift to you. Cherish it, tweak it, enjoy it. To the nerdmobile!

Last night's nerd togger - bastard bollocks crap

The nerd council

Don't lose thy cool - the first rule of nerding. I smashed it to smithereens last night as I swore and snarled my way through four straight defeats.

After a run of one loss in seven I moved up a level, only to lose the next four. 

Clearly I reached the top of my nerd bounce and am now condemned to bump along at the bottom of the stinking cesspit that is online nerding. O! Take me back level 21! But alas, it doesn't work that way. It's like the Mafia, we all know when we join that the only way out is death.

They were all close games, and all as Everton, but then the unbeaten run were all close too. 

By the end of the last one I was a croaking, teary, sweary shambles. Yelping and gesticulating pathetically at the screen as Arteta got brushed off the ball yet again. He's only in there for the free kicks, at which he's ace. The rest - ABJECT SHIT.

I've tweaked my nerd Everton to read thus (4-5-1): Howard, who is awful, then in defence (from right) Neville, Jerjelka, Distain, Baines. Midfield: Arteta, Fellaini, Rodwell, Guaye (or Coleman), then Cahill just behind Saha. This can switch to 4-3-1-2 with Beckford up front and Guaye dropping out, with Cahill behind the front two. Ye gods, even in nerd-chat that is a nerdy thing to write.

Anyway after narrowly losing to Manchester United, Manchester City and Chelsea I was up against nerd Liverpool, who I pulverised. But nerd Everton's lack of firepower, combined with Howard's unerring ability to let shots go straight through him, meant a 1-0 defeat, courtesy of a 90th-minute spawner from one of those anonymous little shits they stuff their wretched team with. 

Seconds later Mrs Biff Mercifully came home from work, so I pulled the plug - no stats for you, nerd Liverpool! You too Dalglish, you wanker. I know you're reading this.

Last night's nerd togger - a new dawn?

Th'Allianz Arena (pic courtesy of Richard Bartz)

I've been nerding on and off for a few years now and I thought I'd seen it all. Well not all but some.
Occasionally though something comes along and - BLAMMO - it stops you dead.
Last night's first two nerd-offs were the usual blend of swearing and disproportionate upset, but the third was different.
It started off much as any other game, my nerd Everton were getting a bit of a chasing off someone else's nerd Bayern. They'd had much more of the ball but I was threatening and, at 0-0, it could have gone either way Brian.
Then it happened, at half time a message flashed up on my screen. It read simply: '##### wants to be your friend'.
I was stunned.
Here were two gladiators locked in to-the-nerd-death combat and yet - and yet - my foe was reaching out to me, as if to say 'when all this is over...' I took a mighly slurp from my presumptuously-opened victory beer to steady myself.
Six simple words, cast almost nonchalantly in my direction, but they represented so much more. Are we not men? (Are we Devo) - had I been so blinded by nerd blood lust all these years?
Had I lost sight of what makes online nerding great -  the sense of community? The feeling of belonging, of family, of the cosmic interconnectedness of all things (nerd)?
I shook my head a little, a wry smile playing on these full, kissable lips, and gasped at life's ability to surprise. The teams were back out. The game resumed.
Second half - beat his brains out 3-0, refused the request and sent my customary 'ha ha ha!' victory message. Because that's how I roll baby. Proper.

Previously:
Middle ground
A day of days
Up yours, Spurs and Bayern

Fridge

A right royal bumming

A grim tale

Have that Fritz

No name

It begins 

The crud list

Five pounds please

Because not everything's ace. These things are crud:

Stubbing your toe
EastEnders
Oasis (since 1995)
Watching football on 'the Norwegian'
Watching football on the snide internet sites
That awful Miranda programme
Wet cuffs
Wet socks
Riding your bike in the pissing rain
Secret fucking Santa at work
Trying to find out my fucking birthday at work
Other people's fucking birthdays at work
Leaving cards
Christmas cards
Birthday cards
Get well soon cards
Sorry you've got aids cards
Works chrimbo dos
Sitting next to your boss at the works fucking chrimbo do
Low sugar jam
Piccalilly
Pubs charging over four quid - FOUR QUID - for a pint and putting that little tray down with the change in: They're saying 'I don't even want to touch you but give me your money'
Self-service tills
Warm toilet seats
Ross Noble - get to the point, fatty
The Champions League
The Premier League
People not coming to work because it's snowing. A bit
Umbrellas
All foreign language films
People who do all the flicks on nerd togger - just fuck off
The smooth-chops one off Peep Show
X-Factor
Adidas Forest Hills
Most of Adidas' recent trainer output
Paul Smith - abysmal quality
See also Lacoste, in all but the polo shirts
The fella who hates me in the post office - you fat prick
Those fuckers on Question Time who don't ask questions but make statements aimed at getting applause
Their expression as they sit back to the sound of said applause
Those UKIP bellends
Those coalition bellends
Teams taking 20 minutes for half time
Goalies hanging on to the ball for over six seconds - I'M COUNTING
Extra time in night games
In winter
Then penalties
Going out on same
Papers putting rugby and cricket before football in the sport bit
Reporters who take football, and especially the England team, so seriously
Zane Lowe - relax, you squinting spastic, it's pop music,
Alan FUCKING Green
Phil Thompson saying '...and everything' on Sky's Saturday goals thing. And what, Phil? And what!
Meetings
Pre-meeting meetings
Post-meeting meetings
Tripping over
Drivers who think a red light means 'speed up now'
Bus drivers
'Can I get'
'I'm good'
People leaving one biscuit in the pack/tin
People who take the last of the milk and put the bottle back in the fridge
People who don't wash their hands after going the toilet
People
Corrie at the mo - honestly, John Stape? No one fucking cares
G2 in that horrible smugfest The Guardian
Cheap socks
Britain's Got Talent
People not giving 'the wave' when I let them through in me car
People not giving 'the wave' when I let them through on me bike
'South Park smiles' at work
Being post shower but pre clobber in winter
The boiler breaking
Orange's phone signal
People bleating about the snow
Alan Titchmarsh
That nob who does the interviews on Sky Sports News, can't remember his name but he's dead tall and clearly no one likes him
Own brand beans
Under-done toast
Under-done chips
Deep-pan pizza
People moaning about Tube strikes - walk, lazyarse.
People who aren't in a trade union
People who used to be in a union but aren't now
The red and brown sauce they use in cafes
Easter eggs
The squeak at Goodison from the corner when a poorly-supported visiting team score
Getting to White Hart Lane
Getting away from White Hart Lane
Anyone wearing any of this lot - scarf, flip flops, three-quarter length kecks, sandals, sunglasses - in the pub
People not offering one of the recognised forms of thanks for a door hold

I hold these truths to be self evident. What about you?

Last night's nerd togger - middle ground

The real (!) Estadio Santiago Bernabeu

Two wins, two defeats. Leaving me with five more defeats than wins - a record I will never break as I'm not quite good enough to get to the next level, so I'll keep bumping along like this. 
It's quite sobering to realise I've peaked at a pretty poor level of a game played on a toy by kids who are going to all get much better than me because they learn how to do all the flicks and that. 
I'm waving them on to better things, like Withnail in that horrendous film which people who want to appear cleverer than they really are say is their favourite film, even though it isn't actually funny and they nearly wet themselves watching Trains, Planes and Automobiles. 
Anyway the two defeats were close, (City 1-2 Chelsea, Everton 0-1 Arsenal), but then a couple of rip-snorting wins, first Everton went two up in 20 minutes to Villa before my opponent pulled the plug, incurring my customary 'ha ha ha' message - no exclamation, I'm not an animal. 
Up next the nitwit I was playing went Real Madrid so I plumped for Barcelona. With 10 minutes gone his keeper passes it out short, but David Villa nips in and smashes in a shot. It's saved but comes back to Villa who hits the bar with his next effort. Just as I was about to bellow some major language at the telly Villa prods home.
Then my opponent appears to stop playing so I just pass it round at the back. A message comes in saying, 'I don't like the shirts,' - what existential mind games are afoot? But then he hits back and tries to make a game of it - to no avail. I triumph 1-0 but best of all I could hear his every foul-mouthed splutter as nerd Barca eased through his nerd Real like a hot blade through a trapped, whimpering pug. 


Previously:
A day of days

Up yours, Spurs and Bayern

Fridge

A right royal bumming

A grim tale

Have that Fritz

No name

It begins

Last night's nerd togger - up yours, Spurs and Bayern

Vanquished

Incredible scenes at Biff mansions as I extended my unbeaten run to four (four) games. First up an abortive game (my opponent pulled the after he went two down early on) as nerd Everton against nerd Spurs.
Then a real humdinger against nerd Bayern Munich. A close game saw me go two up (both Saha) early on only for my opponent to equalise with 20 minutes left. But straight from the kick off Saha struck again with what proved to be the decisive goal. Right at the end my vanquished foe pulled the plug - he was only one down, he had the ball and the whistle hadn't gone! What kind of nerd is that?
Well one of the good things about this game is the layout of the Xbox's 'virtual' keyboard, which makes it very easy to send a 'ha ha ha!' message, which I did. In your face, Frenchie!

Previously:
Fridge
A right royal bumming
A grim tale
Have that Fritz
No name
It begins

Last night's nerd togger - language, failure and festering fridges

Floating Frank

First up a tonking for me as nerd Chelsea at the hands of nerd Manchester United. It sticks in the throat of some nerd purists for an Evertonian to play as Chelsea but sometimes it's about getting the result. That didn't work this time and I was pure shite.
My opponent asked for a rematch and like a fool I said yes - never do this if you've just got beaten because your nerd dander is too up to guarantee success and you end up fouling everything that moves while screaming even worse things at the screen. (Example: 'Fucking arse your dad up the cunt, you cunt.' And no one likes to hear that.)
This time though he went nerd Liverpool and I went nerd Everton. Torres put the wanker one up but goals either side of half time from Saha and Arteta put me ahead only for that gobshite wanker poncey little shitstain cuntbucket Torres to equalise. I declined another rematch as I had to go the shops. 
On my return and after I'd put the shopping away and cleaned the fridge out - properly this time - in an attempt to get rid of the smell which has the poor bemused appliance in its grip I had another go. Again as nerd Everton only this time some punk ass kid goes nerd Vitesse Arnhem, a team ranked a full star lower than the nerd Toffees.
Now if you're going to do this - play as a crap team - you better bring your game or prepare for the nerd beat down. Because no matter how good you (think you) are the players are that bit slower and weedier so it's mainly a matter of keeping the ball and being patient. Which I did to ease my foe aside 3-1 (Saha, Cahill, Yakubu) after Grant Lederhosen had put them one up.
The fridge still smells though. It is most perplexing.

Previously:
A right royal bumming
A grim tale
Have that Fritz
No name
It begins

Last night's nerd togger - a right royal bumming

Wriggly little wanker

No other word for it. And this was actually the sum total of the weekend's nerding, as mrs Biff was present the entire time and takes a dim view of the nerding lexicon (eg: 'CUNT! I make no apologies for that.'). Plus she walks in front of the screen and starts asking me things, demanding I pause the game - while still in front of the screen. We only get three pauses, woman! Each is precious and not to be wasted on why I haven't fitted the spotlight in the kitchen.
So I took my chance when she was in the bath and it was a calamity - the game, the bath seemed to produce the required results - as nerd Arsenal hammered my nerd Everton 6-0.
I actually started off well, passing the ball around nicely but never really threatening. Gradually the nerd Gunners got into the game and I committed the ULTIMATE SIN OF NERDING - I lost my temper. Once you start charging round sliding in it's all over. And so it proved here with that BASTARD Arshavin wriggling his troll features through seemingly at will. It would be no surprise to see him hopping around with a mini pitchfork defending his nerd gold, if I was zapped into the Fifaworld, Tron style. That mangled metaphor stands.
The lumbering defensive duo of Heitinga and Jerjelka couldn't get near the little shit. Him and that fucking farmer's boy Fabregas. Two quick goals made it 2-0 at half time and I considered pulling the plug but I thought if I regained my composure I could get back into it.
Within five minutes of the restart they were four up (the second of which drew the remark above) and Heitinga was sent off, to be followed shortly after by Baines. The capitulation was finished with time to spare as forkboy Arshavin added two more.

Last night's nerd togger - have that Fritz!

Twinkletoes 

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.)