Category: Playing up

CRASHING OUT OF EUROPE: The man who was determined to leave Europe now wants to take England back in. At least in terms of football. But he is struggling to find enough right wingers.

The man himself was unavailable for comment. He has scarpered to suck up to his mentor, Donald Trump, after the poor ex-president faked an assassination attempt (allegedly).

“We would have won, if only Brexit had been done properly,” claimed the fraudulent frog-faced fascist foghorn’s mouthpiece, Zig Hyle. “Last time we played Spain, back in 16-whatever, Sir Francis Drake beat the small Spanish boats single-handedly, just by playing bowls!”

Yeah, I don’t think that’s how football works.

“The result stands!” said Hyle. “We won, Spain lost, and they need to respect the result of the humiliation.”

Farage already has his first team lined up. Well, five of them, at least. He himself will play up front and take all the glory. His deputy Richard “Dick Twice” Tice (a disappointment to every girlfriend he has ever had) will be right behind him. Lee Anderson will dominate the middle ground, as he sees it. The other two, being less well known, will have to play at the back.

“We are struggling to find any real right wingers,” explained Hyle. “Nige, Lee, and Dick and the other two are centrists, really. Obviously playing on the left is out of the question, so we will carry on where Gareth Southgate left off.”

That’s still only five players. Proper football has eleven, plus substitutes. Where is the rest of the squad?

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” said Hyle. “We will make up some players, and call them up if we need them. We have the best team on paper, with all the paper candidates.”

Victory is assured. Farage insists that coming second is the same thing as winning. Except in a corrupt referendum, of course.

GUESS WHO’S HOPING TO SCORE TONIGHT: Our Glorious Leader is merrily hopping on to the most obvious bandwagon available. This is fine, according to the man who can’t tell Harry Kane from Harry Potter.

Rumours continue to persist that Johnson has already paid someone to write two columns, one celebrating England’s Glorious Victory, one bemoaning England’s Gallant Loss. With any luck, the Daily Telegraph will print the correct one tomorrow morning.

This is a man whose reputation suggests that when he hears the phrase “Sterling’s taken a tumble!”, he instantly checks his investments.

After all, Boris Johnson’s principal talent appears to be cosplaying, not governing. Who shall I be today? A sausage maker? Fork lift truck driver? Football fan? His entire existence seems to have been a series of gestures, and the fact that he claims otherwise carries no weight.

Gesture politics is a bad way to do the business of governing, he claims. His actions suggest that, even if this is true, it’s what he does regardless. However, there seems to be nothing wrong with hastily pulling on an England top over his shirt and tie, to cheer on Our Boys as they win successive matches of the kicky ball game.

So let this fool take his undeserved moment in the spotlight. Let’s savour the moment, and wait for the laughs as Gareth Southgate asks him whether that really should have been a penalty, and he starts talking about vaccines instead.

Hopefully we can get back to the usual business of politics once this is all over. Back to the business of gesture politics like clapping the NHS, slagging off the EU, and Brexit.

Actually, on second thoughts, let’s not. Instead of these empty, futile gestures, why not celebrate our inclusivity, our teamwork, our full integration into European competition, that determine the success of our sporting teams.

In contrast, politically we have the exact reverse with Brexit. They think it’s all over. It is now.

England’s premier cricketing curmudgeon is making political points again. Eleven proud Englishmen have beaten eleven sorry descendants of criminals in an utterly pointless game. No thanks to the EU, says Boycs.

“We won two world wars and are on the verge of another world cup!” gushed Sir Geoffrey. “We thrashed t’ruddy Aussies with nothing more than our wits, the Dunkirk Spirit and a stick of rhubarb! t’EU has been no bloody help at all. It’s home grown English talent that’s done it. Roll on Brexit and we’ll win t’Ashes every bloody year!”

For the sake of balance, LCD Views’ Jolly Good Sports correspondent spoke to a rather less strident lady, May Danover, who watches cricket on the telly sometimes.

“I got into cricket a long time ago,” reminisced Danover. “I heard the commentator on Test Match Special say, ‘the bowler’s Holding, the batsman’s Willey’. Naturally this got my attention. I watched for years before I realised that there was no sexual element at all. I still get a thrill when they start polishing their balls, though.”

So why do you still watch the game?

“It’s the sheer joy of leather thwacking willow,” she said. “The raised bat, the smooth strokes, and balls flying everywhere. I love it when a man stays in for a long time. It’s disappointing when he gets out too soon!”

We asked Danover what she thought of Sir Geoffrey’s comments.

“Freedom of movement gave England their captain,” she explained. “Eoin Morgan is Irish. If Brexit happens, he won’t be playing again.”

Are there other possible side effects?

“Oh yes,” said Danover. “The squad contains a number of British born Asians, and a naturalised West Indian. None of them would be eligible to play again. The Brexit Police would kick out anyone with a name like Adil or Jofra, no matter how many Australian helmets they knocked off.”

And with that, she went off to find out whether Michael Holding and Peter Willey were still good friends.

Rhubarb master Geoffrey Boycott has entered the Brexitsphere. It isn’t that difficult to Brexit, he says. We won two world wars, after all. I could Brexit with a stick of rhubarb.

“I faced Lillee and Thomson in their pomp, and survived,” boasts Sir Geoffrey. “Aye, those were t’days. Uncovered pitches, no helmets, nothing between yourself and oblivion but your wits and a stick of rhubarb. Everyone’s gone soft since we joined the EU!”

How would the renowned professional Yorkshireman approach Brexit negotiations?

“With a straight bat, of course,” replied Boycott. “Forward defensive, block, block, block. Make them sweat! I’m going to be there all day, and I’m not budging! That’s how we won t’war.”

What if a swift response is required?

“Nothing changes t’way I play,” he answered. “I’m the greatest asset our side has, and they know it! Corridors of power, my foot. Corridor of uncertainty more like!”

How will you respond to questioning?

“I’ll defend t’straight ones,” said Boycott. “Keep my eye on t’ball, and compensate for t’spin those so-called spin doctors use. I played against the best, none of this modern doosra rubbish. And t’bad ones? I’ll just let them sail harmlessly by. That’s what t’backstop is for!”

While not scoring any points off them? Or indeed runs? Is your master plan to bore the EU into submission?

“Now then, now then, there’s no need for those sort of remarks,” said Sir Geoffrey. “They won’t get past me and my stick of rhubarb! They are the ones who will be on t’back foot. Mark my words!”

It’s a compelling argument. The EU, being foreign like, don’t understand cricket. Or the Yorkshire temperament. Or rhubarb. Boycott expects a last-minute capitulation as England snatches victory from the jaws of defeat.

“Of course, if we had picked the right team in the first place, we wouldn’t have been in this mess,” claims Boycott. “Look at the jokers they sent out first. May, Davis, Raab, all rubbish. My grandmother in her pinny could have done better!”

Boycott’s reputation remains eternally untarnished. His intellect, however, is suspect. In the words of the old rhyme:

Yorkshire born
Yorkshire bred
Strong in t’arm
And thick in t’head.

TRAM LINES OF DEEP REGRET : TORY leadership contender Michael Gove had seemed to get away with his confession to cocaine use over the weekend, but now questions are being raised as to whether or not his Class A drug use is really in the past? Or perhaps completely out of control.

Which would explain a thing or two.

“It was bad enough he was confessing to recreational drug use when he’d championed a zero tolerance approach to the issue during his time as Education Secretary,” our resident chopper says,

“but now it seems he’s gone and left a large rucksack containing 25 Tablets, a large amount of white powder, small snap bags containing white rocks, snap bags containing white powder and even his scales on a tram! At least that’s the way we’ve interpreted the Sky News article. I don’t know if he can recover from this, if it is proven the drugs were his.”

Quite how high you’d have to be to forget an entire bag is a good question and seasoned drug mules are being approached for opinions.

“Great Manchester Police Trafford North will be tweeting at the suspect’s Twitter address tonight,” our specialist says, “They’re just writing the hashtags now, but  #thoughtfuldealer and #honeyiforgotmydrugs are believed to be the pick of a pile of ideas.”

As to possible explanations, alongside extreme drug use, for forgetting the drug stash, there is a likely explanation.

“He was pretty aggressive at his campaign launch today, even mocking Boris Johnson over knifing him in the back last time,” our specialist muses, “he was probably itching for a few lines and wanted to take it out on someone. It’s a good policy. Johnson is a classic bully. If he fears he’s going to get hurt it will make him more likely to back away from the fight. And hell, Gove high on amphetamines and God knows what else? He’ll probably try and wrestle you naked when you least expect it.”

Other theories are that Gove was planning a give away with his campaign speech, much like Boris Johnson.

“Only Gove was planning to give away Class A’s instead of tax breaks and then screwed it up by leaving the entire goodie bag on the tram.”

Enquiries are ongoing.

TAKE BACK CONTROL : Rumours out of UKIP HQ today suggest the brains trust running their EU election campaign has begun advising their MEP candidates to pre-soak in milkshakes, before they go out campaigning.

“It’s to take back control of the initiative on the pavements,” UKIP head of campaign strategy, Mr Lactose Dunce, told LCD Views, “if those traitors that don’t like racists see our candidates already dripping wet with milkshake, of any flavour, but preferably vanilla because that’s a white milkshake, so it must be the best colour milkshake, then they won’t bother throwing milkshakes at us.”

Why the focus on vanilla in particular has already been explained above. There is no suggestion that a deluded and dangerous rump group of pretend politicians are being ironic with the choice, even though they are anything but vanilla.

“We did suggest to McDonalds that they stop selling milkshakes during the EU election campaign but they didn’t reply to us,” Mr Dunce added, “which is pretty rude when you consider what we’re doing to boost their sales in the regions of England.”

Earlier strategies of tweeting threats of violence at the general public, should they attempt to throw a milk based beverage at a kipper, seem to have failed.

“The milkshake covers a wide area on launch,” our campaign analyst notes, “it’s essentially the shotgun of the beverage world. An egg is a smart bomb that needs to be fired with precision, but is prone to navigational failure, or it needs to be held in the hand and detonated on target. This is too risky a munition given the target is normally surrounded by football hooligans seeking any pretence for violence. So the milkshake is a smart bomb shot gun. It combines the best of two very useful weapons systems.”

Other suggestions to candidates, such as wrapping themselves in clingfilm are being considered. But it’s feared that the clingfilm, combined with the obligatory tin foil hat, will lead to overheating on warm days.

The Six Nations rugby tournament is about to happen. The England team has already threatened to withdraw, in order to play a World Series against itself. The reason given is Ireland’s decision to include a backstop in their squad.

“England’s decision is mystifying, so it is,” remarked Ireland’s publicity manager, Aiden Andabetting. “Including a backstop is a guarantee that we can still exchange passes and maintain our conversion rate. Unfortunately, playing a conventional full back was unacceptable to the English. They must have brain damage after all that headbanging.”

Naturally enough, the English see things differently. “We need Ireland to have a frictionless fullback that just lets us through to score shedloads of tries,” explained England team strategist Kolley Flowerear. “Any backstop must be temporary, in other words replaced whenever we are losing. If it doesn’t happen, we are taking our odd-shaped balls home.”

Flowerear warmed to his theme. “Once we have exited, gloriously, from the Six Nations, we will be free to strike up our own fixtures,” he said. “We are already negotiating to form a prestigious tournament with new rugby partners, such as Antarctica, Greenland, and Easter Island.”

There are rumours of discontent within the England ranks. Some players want to withdraw now, some later, and others not at all. Management is weak, and the bizarre inclusion of prop forward Boris “The Destroyer” Johnson hasn’t helped. Johnson insists upon being the centre of attention, handling the ball constantly, and always stays close to the hooker.

Rugby analyst Lou Sedpropp gave an outsider’s view. “England is the laughing stock of world rugby,” he opined. “They are insisting on having nothing to do with their fellow Brits, or their neighbours in Europe. Nobody wants to play against them, and several players have quietly discovered Scottish or Irish descent and have applied for a burgundy passport.”

It doesn’t matter if you are left wing or right wing, inside centre or outside centre. This particular scrum is about to collapse under the weight of its own delusions.

‘Twas the night before Christmas…

…and in the little town of Bedlam, the police were called to a suspected burglary. A portly chap, heavily disguised and carrying a sack full of swag, had become stuck up a chimney.

The police were called by eagle-eyed Neighbourhood Watcher Tom Peeping, known locally as ‘Snoop Snoopy Snoop’. Snoop had observed the whole incident through his laser-assisted binoculars from the observation tower in his converted garden shed.

“I saw this bloke arrive, seemingly from nowhere, and squeeze into houses through the chimney,” explained Snoop. “It was very suspicious. Luckily I have the local police station on speed dial.”

By now the fire brigade had also arrived to assist in the rescue. The man was hauled to safety, with a loud ‘pop’ and a cloud of soot as he finally emerged.

The man, who gave his name as Nick Saint, looked suitably embarrassed. “I was handing out gifts, not stealing them,” he muttered grumpily. “Next year I need to lay off the mince pies!”

Surprisingly, Chief Inspector Bobby Rozzer confirmed Nick’s story. “The public tell us that presents have been brought into their homes, not the other way round,” he said. “Saint refused our offer of help, preferring to ask the fire brigade to get him back onto the roof.”

The only other person not entirely satisfied with the events was Snoop. “I still don’t buy his story,” he moaned, his net curtains twitching. “And I’m not a nosey parker or a gossip, whatever herself at number 29 says. I can lip-read her quite clearly!”

Snoop was unrepentant, and would tell anybody who cared to listen that the strange man was wearing a false beard, had an unlicenced sleigh, and ‘looked a bit foreign’.

Snoop went on to lodge a complaint about the mysteriously large amount of reindeer dung subsequently dumped in his garden.

George Soros is facing bankruptcy as a class action for unpaid wages by remainers and Trump opponents begins in Budapest.

”He’s stuffed,” our legal eagle, Mr Bald, says, “you think of the millions of people he’s employed on social media to fight Brexit and resist the authoritarian presidency of Donald Trump? Then the people he pays in Hungary to argue against Orban? And all his other employees resisting the far right around the globe? That’s an unpaid wage bill even Trump would be proud of.”

The legal case, which is expected to last about five minutes and be held in the offices of the Budapest office of the Telegraph, is certain to find against the aged philanthropist and investor.

”It’ll be a kangaroo court with a definite international flavour,” Mr Bald continues, “the judge is an Express editor.”

Why the action is taking place in the newspaper office of a city under the control of an increasingly autocratic and dubious government is not quite clear though. What’s wrong with the Old Bailey?

”It’s only necessary to convict him in the court of public opinion,” Mr Bald explains, “this is a fundamental change to the rule of law ushered in by Brexit. It’s going to save everyone masses on legal costs.”

And will our own international enterprise benefit from a backdated windfall, after all, we focus on Brexit a lot.

”No. We’re paid up Tory shills, as some of the more feverish supporters of Corbyn like to explain to us, after exhaustive examination of our time line.”

So we need to sue the Conservative Party then?

”I’ll get right on it. With their access to the magic money tree a settlement in our favour is guaranteed.”

If you’ve yet to receive your payment, after arguing against either Brexit or Trump, we recommend you get onto the legal team representing the Soros social media conspiracy and ask for whatever you think you’re owed.