A great win on thursday to seal our 8th Championship on the trot. Well done lads- this was as good a Title as any, due to the loss of our great goal machine, Martin. Hope your foot improves soon mate. Also the sad loss of young Tomi to the Capitalist world of commerce, deprived us of options up front. However, it is obvious that the best bit of business in the summer transfer window was the signing of Steph from Goat. Ben has stepped up to the plate, and started to show his all-round quality, picking up m-o-ms and holding his own. Raph just does everything, every week, and Rhys growls, and blocks , and growls some more. We owe a debt of gratitude to Richie Adams for helping out on the last game against the combined resources of Your Mother & Orange. It was a good game, a draw would have been enough, but the win was sweet. Ben benefitted from a week in Crete, returning refreshed, full of kebabs and Retsina, and he certainly put Owain on a skewer and popped him in a pitta and covered him in hot sauce- at least thats what it looked like at the end of the game! Celt was a little red in the face too-which is strange coz we didn't see much of him! We have decided to treat ourselves to a two-night stay at the Dominatrix Plaza hotel in Scunthorpe, Rhys wants us whipped into shape for the new season... We hear that our old chums Bonkath are no more. Sad. Very sad, but they are now called Relegaters, a strange name as no one gets relegated .We noticed that they had been stalking our talisman Raph, trying to turn him over to the dark side. He is too good for that , and too expensive. Their kindly old goalie, Paul Van Der ZsaZsa Gabor, was asking Keeping Machine Ed Friedel, for a few tips between the sticks....Ed told him, " First of all mate, get yourself a new team, who can defend!" WE hope that their maverick goal-getter(Aled-caled) gets his mojo back...there has been that little something missing from his game recently. So lets get it on again Crymych..... A good solid start to the new season, with a nice, controlled performance against Crymych Crew. Everyone played well, all benefitting from the visit to the Ammonford Colonic Irrigation Treatment Cenrtre. The young lady who looked after Rhys was very impressed by the sheer volume he generated...Raf had noticed him carrying a little weight recently! We all now have a healthy glow about our cheeks, especially Steff, who mistakenly sat on the hot stones in the Sauna. Perhaps that is why he was in such a bad mood in training on Monday- attacking a young boy for what seemed a little push, Bets were being placed on the tall 16 year old beating the crap out of the moody chippie! Goalie and inspirational leader Ed was recently likened to a young slim Neville Southall, what a compliment- as a life-loong Evertonian, who saw the great team of the eighties many times, the collossos Ed Friedel is chuffed to bits! Commiserations must go out to our beleaguered friends Relegators, who managed to throw away all the points against Under-Ed-mated, with our great bastion of the net Ed helping the"Unders" to hold on to a 4-3 win. Asian betting rings were thought to be behind the erratic goalkeeping in the last seconds of the match...Did Aled really rediscover his lost Mojo? Answers on a postcard to Mr Rawinda Patel, The Imperial Hotel, Rawindi India. After a hard fought 6-3 win against Underestimated+Ref, we regrouped for our usual debriefing, at Slack Alice's World of Adventure in Saundersfoot. Despite being annoyed at the Brummie accent of most locals, the lads enjoyed some R&R. Most popular, was the Mini Golf Course, which Ben managed in 7 under par, winning the Cup, which wasn't too hard as the rest of the lads were otherwise engaged in the Slack Alice Smorgasbord, so much to eat- so little time! Having had our fill, we went on to The Old Trout Ticklers Club, where Slack Alice herself, and her Auntie Hilda kept the boys entertained with their impersonations of cold meats. Rhys particularly enjoyed seeing the "Gammon Slices", whilst Raf loved the stupendous "Beef Curtains", other faves included the "Haslet Tower", and the fascinating "Pastrami Kittens". What a night we had... We are all raring to have a bash at the Alligators, or are they the Navigators, or is it the Commiserators? Who are yer? Who are yer? Who are yer? Word on the street is that Aled has found his Mojo- somewhere in Tibet, apparently they have been out there getting their heads together for their Cup Final , which is when they play us. We are looking to find that Mojo,which we think Ref Alan Hitchmarsh has had hidden in his Glasses case, along with his glasses-wiper, which has never been used. Now that the great leveller is back on the road, we expect to see some clear signalling from him, if he ever moves out of first gear...we Ticklers know he wont find Neutral, not against us! He is never neutral in our games. So let's get it on, Ticklers against the World, Eight in the bag, nine our aim.
It has come to our attention that the Sports Hall in Crymych, was once an ancient site of great archaeological importance, and there was once a pagan temple standing towards one end of the pitch. Indeed, some, more sensitive players have experienced rather strange, inexplicable occurrances. Weird chanting has been heard, and the referee, has misinterpreted some events, and sometimes he becomes very animated, angry even. Unwitting innocents, like Stef and Raf have been bewildered by his behaviour. Also Ed Southall the Totemic keeper of the sticks, felt all funny last week when a ball appeared to "bend" around his gloves and float into the top corner, and soon a ball hit the back wall, and Ed's feet became glued to the matt, as the offending sphere hit the back of his calf and rolled into the net!
Rhys became hysterical, laughing at his Captain, and losing all of his famous dignity. Rumours are, that even the Beast(a man untouched by the sensitive, spirituality of the Ancients), allowed the strange atmosphere to influence his play , which became wayward, and aimless....he left his usual position and went mauauding forward in search of his Celtic Mojo.
Aled seemed to be in a trance , out-witting raf at will, and sending the ball off into another dimension, he was whispering something about his Mojo throughout the first half. Maybe the trip to Tibet did him good afterall!
The Ticklers, spent a lovely weekend at Hymoni Vulvini's Pleasure Emporium, which sounds very up-market, but was a little down-at-heel. Due to the dip in the economy, she has had to move from Frog Street in Tenby, to new premises behind the Tatoo parlour in Pembroke Dock.
The boys all enjoyed it though...Ben was intrigued by the latex snakes, whil'st Raf indulged himself in the Gimp Department, he was in there for hours..it was lucky we went to find him, as Hymoni had locked him in a crate and was force-feeding him pickled eggs.
Rhys and Stef had such fun playing with the"Boy's Toys", we left before them, as a party of Male Air Stewards arrived for their xmas knees-up. Rumour has it that the two naive ticklers were seen boarding a 737 headed for Mykonos.......
Ticklers suffered a rare defeat to the "Mother Can I have orange" team, which is a combination of all the "nearly men" of indoor footie. The residues of so many teams that dared to topple the Ticklers. They all failed, C'nai, Goat, Mothers.and orange V, so now they have united to try to beat the legends. Even the Judas Hugh, who we have nurtured as if he was our own, has had his head turned...he has bitten the hand that once fed him. Try all you like boys, stab us in the back when we are weakened, without the great Martin, but be warned...the championship is not won or lost after 5 games.
On a brighter note, the defeat has brought the lads closer together, and with team spirit in mind Ed took the boys away to the Wirral for a couple of days of fun. We walked the "Wirral Way" which wasn't a swaggering scouse walk, but a scenic trip along the beautiful Dee coastline. "What are they?" said Steff, "They are boats" Ben knowingly imparted! Steff is from Trelech.
Off we went on the famous "Ferry across the Mersey", Rhys started to sing the well -known Gerry and the Pacemaker's Hit from the Sixties" only Ed remembered that far back ,and the two kindly old gents strolled to the stern of the boat and looked at the wake form the powerful engines. Ed said" Rhys looking at that line of froth and waves is a bit like looking back at the long and illusstious history of the Ticklers, like the waves we have had peaks and troughs, but always things return to normal again as the next wave arrives". Rhys wiped a tear( or was is just sea spray from the corner of his eye and said" You are indeed very wise Ed, and dont those seagulls remind you of the team of shitehawks we played last week, all swooping down to see what bits of shit the great engines of the Ticklers might have churned- up from the dirty depths"
We turned and looked up to the bow of thge ship, where Ben Steff, Tomi and fatherly Raf leaned over the rail looking to the future, the great open Irish Sea. The old salts knew that they were looking at the future, the greatness would live on with those kids...a bright ray of Scouse sunshine broke through the gray blanket above, and the smiles on the faces of the Ticklers said it all......
It was Christmas morning, and a sprinkling of snow lay all around the Ticklers office. Inside Rhys and Ed were discussing plans for a little winter break for the lads. Raf appeared covered in snow, some local urchins had bombarded him with snowball as he drove through Llanboidy. This was no surprise, as this 'hood was a known breeding ground for troublesome youngsters. "The little buggers should take up football" said Ed. "They have " replied Rhys, most of the worst ones play for Llanboidy!". The three men laughed. Before their guffaws had died away, there was heard a little nervous knock on the office door. It was young Celt, from Your Mum's Got an Orange Jumper. " Please Mr Ed and Mr Rhys, can I please play for your team?" The two kindly old gents looked over towards Raf, but the great Pembrokeshire League Legend just looked at the fire and shook his head. The young boy looked devastated " But please Mr Rhys, Mr Ed, I have been saving up all my money and I ve got £50 to pay for a place in Ticklers". The grandees of Crymych Leisure Leagues said in unison " it's nothing personal son, we think you are a super player, with a great future in the game, we watched you when you were in goat, and liked your style, but you owe it to yuor current team mates to stick with them this season. Also it would be unfair on Hugh who came knocking on this very door 3 months ago, with the same request!"
The poor lad looked down at his feet, sniffing . "Here lad", said Ed, take this away with you. Ed passed to him a beautiful leather bound book. "What is it Mr Ed?". It's a book, child. " I know it's a book cried Celt, but what is it about?" It is a book written by the infamous Rob Wacko-Jackson, entitled "English Football Skills & fancy Tricks". Said Ed. " it may help you develop your game, toughen you up a bit la".
The little urchin bit hard on his lower lip, fighting back a tear, and he turned and ran off into the snow. Rhys had dropped off in front of the roaring fire" where's Celt?" "Gone back to LLanboidy with Jacko's book" said Raf. "I don't think it will improve his game though" The three good friends chuckled together, " Shall we watch the video of when we beat Cnai y Chi taking the Title and giving second spot to Goat", "Yes, Yes Yes" They all hooted in joy, and the DVD was started again.