Saturday afternoon 2.50 pm
Deano's feeling pretty damn good. He is now a whole percentage point above the bang average win percentage for the 38 managers the Bees have had in their entire history. On top of that has overtaken Ron Noades' win percentage. For an ordinary bloke from the West Midlands to be mentioned in the same sentence as that silver haired titan of the game seemed, until our thrashing of Rovrum, impossible to contemplate. He da Daddy now, He da Daddy now, he da Daddy now...
"ORANGE AND BROWN ARMY, ORANGE AND BROWN ARMY, ORANGE AND BROWN ARMY."
The chants of out travelling fans wake him from his reverie. He stands, hands in pockets before the dugouts at the bet365 Stadium; the visitors end a sea of the orange and brown new away colours worn by our proud supporters. Debris thrown by the derisive Stoke fans lies in puddles on the rain sodden mud patch that is an excuse for a playing surface. In the home dug-out "Useless" Gary Rowett nervously twitches and bites his fingernails. He already looks like a dead man walking.
Buzz-ette, sporting our new 70s retro kit wiggles her sting at the home support.
"WHAT THE F*ECK IS THAT? WHAT THE F*ECK IS THAT?" They scream at her as she kisses the Leo Vegas logo picked out in contrasting white and deep red. She does a bit of Ed Balls "Gangnam Style" type dancing, flips them the bird and moves on round the touchline.
She doesn't give a toss that girl. We love her.
Deano pulls the hood from the collar of his Brown and orange rain-proof jacket as the downpour continues. Behind him in the dugout, Moses and Judge are playing Fort-Night on their iPads, Thomas Frank is buying Bitcoins on-line and O'Kelly is studying the form at Ascot.
He shakes his head in mild disbelief.
The ref's whistle draws their attention and we kick off into the wind. With no changes to the starting 11, we resume last week's rhythm just like clockwork. 15 minutes in Sergi nutmegs a defender and Maupay backeheels us 1-0 up. The Stoke lads are all at sea following their poor result last week, and additionally the playing surface is like the skid pan at the old Chiswick bus drivers' school. Whereas our nimble youngsters are skipping about like spring lambs. Just before half time Maupay sticks in a second from a deceptive Romaine pass.
Half Time: Us 2 - Them 0
Second half we have the wind and rain behind us. After 60 minutes Said comes on for Olly. He's making them look stupid, they're falling about all over and are covered in mud. So are we but we with our attractive brown shirts and shorts, we look just the same. Said puts Neal through and with no defenders to beat he dribbles round the goalie and taps the ball in: - 3-0 us.
With five minutes to go their goalie throws out to a defender and a gust of wind blows the ball back into his own net. 4-0 to us.
In the last minute, their useless goalie, blinded by the rain mistakes Maupay for a mud besmirched Stoke defender and passes the ball out directly to him. Our boy repeats the procedure for our third goal and scores our fifth on the final whistle.
Full Time:
Them: 0 - Us 5
Deano edges closer to Nicky Forster's win percentage
Thomas grosses 5% on his Bit Coin micro-trading and Richard O'Kelly's accumulator wins him 50 quid.
Good times.
classic football chaps day out !
