Everyone's getting really excited, with 3 points from 2 matches and it still only august, it is obvious to any sensible Bees fan the Championship is as good as won and we should start planning for a (short) life in the Premiership.
Friday Morning:
Our younger acquisitions are like kids on Christmas Eve. Dominic Thompson, Dru Yearwood, Bryan Mbuemo, Luca Racic, Jan Zamburek and Joel Valencia are in such states of hyper excitement that Neil Gregg prescribes double doses of Ritalin all round and under Betinho's charge, sends them all off to Chessington World of Adventure to let off some steam. Betty rounds up the little scamps. They pick up some sarnies, crisps and frozen Um-Bongos from Mr Singh's Corner Shop (Proud Unhealthy Food Partner to BFC 2019/2020) and Mr Singh borrows his cousin's Mini-bus to drive them down to Surrey.
By 10.30 they're parked up and ready to rock. Betty gives them all cute day-glo gilets to wear with "I'm a little Bee" stencilled on the back. They're jumping up and down and chattering hysterically as they set off in pairs, holding hands and skipping along with Betty at the front holding a red and white umbrella. Mr Singh opts to stay with the bus and listen to England getting stuffed on Test Match Special.
They go on lots of rides and then join in with the Gruffalo Summer Party. While the little tots are all enjoying themselves, Betty decides to head off to the bar for some light refreshment. But half an hour and a couple of pints of Pride later he returns to collect our youngsters and finds six little chairs empty and the baby bees nowhere to be seen.
WTF!!!!
His fate should he return to Jersey Road minus about 10 million quids worth of young talent flashes horribly before his eyes and he rushes off in a panic to search for the lads.
Finally after what feels like an eternity, from behind a cheering crowd a perspiring Betty spots a flash of luminous red nylon. Seconds later he arrives at the Amur Tigers enclosure to find a large group of visitors clapping and laughing as Bryan tickles the belly of a large female tiger, Dru and Dominic play in the dirt with some cubs, Luca and Jan do a rough and tumble with some young males and Joel rides around on the back of "Boris" the mangy alpha male. Our Portuguese pillock calls to them to climb back out but they ignore him, the wardens attempt to lure them back with some Strawberry Mivvis, but they just give them the finger, it is only after seven tranquiliser darts have been dispatched (they needed 2 for Bryan), that the comatose players are retrieved. The vet gives Betty a bottle of antidote pills and they sleep all the way home.
Thus do Bees tame tigers in Chessington, but what of the self styled "tigers" of Hull City?
Saturday morning:
Following the heavy sedation "The Chessington Six" turn up at GP still half asleep. Tommy picks a modified 11 from last week. He starts both Bryan and Joel in place of Marcondes and Canos; who get a seat on the bench as do Luca and Dru. Said is also named as sub Whoohoooooo!
Saturday 2.45 pm
Overawed by the affluent sophistication of TW8, a few Hull supporters huddle together under the Wendy House upper tier silent and apprehensive, they know that though they are equal with us on points they are way behind on ability, speed, organisation, talent etc etc. They know they are in for a hiding.
The stout-hearted yeomen of the Ealing Road sing proudly of Bees past and present, of Pontus Jansson's mystical headgear and of the mythic proportions of Marcus Gayle's sexual organ. Marvellous stuff.
We kick off towards the away end and start fairly brightly, but Joel is yards off the pace and with Bryan is plainly below par chances aplenty get wasted - plus ça change you may think. At one point Bryan stumbles and while prone in the centre circle nods off before the sponge arrives.
The two half stoned youngsters are getting dogs abuse from the crowd and Pontus is on the verge of punching their lights out
Tommy scribbles franticly and points a lot, Brian Reimer walks about in front of the Andy Smith Memorial Dug Outs with his hands behind his back. On the comfy seats behind him Luca and Dru are sound asleep with their heads back and mouths wide open.
Betty stands in the tunnel hands in pockets. His podgy fingers brush against the half full pill bottle, what was it the vet had said? Was it "give each of them another 1 at 5.00pm tomorrow " or was it "give each of them another 5 at 1.00pm"? That excellent Fullers Beer had fogged his brain. He re-reads the label...
Oops!
He scuttles back to the changing rooms and prepares the half time refreshments, carefully diluting the pills into the appropriate mugs just as the half time whistle blows.
HT:
Us: 0 - Them: 0
They glug down the delicious organic spinach and banana smoothies but in the mêlée, Emiliano drinks Bryan's laced refreshment. Joel perks up immediately. But despite Tommy doing his nut, Bryan falls back asleep and Marcondes; who's lit up like a Christmas tree due to the unnecessary kick from the pills, gets the nod.
Second half, Emiliano commands the game with Cryuff-like majesty. Joel turns from damp squib to fire cracker. He's all over the pitch. We're 3 up within 15 minutes all from beautiful intricate interplay . Then Emiliano scores from the spot (surely not). Said comes on for a 10 minute cameo and hypnotises an exhausted Hull defence before a through ball to Joel which he dances into the net while doing a keepy-uppy.
Thumb in mouth, curled up in the changing room, Bryan sleeps through it all.
Full time:
Us: 5 - Them: 0
Later that evening Betinho posts a video on You Tube of Joel Valencia riding round on the back of Boris set to a scratchy 45rpm recording of Aussie songstress Patsy Ann Noble's terrible hit song "He who rides a Tiger" (Polydor Records 1965 highest UK chart position: 21)
Good times!
