Another pale day for the proud Loyalists.I, Sir Grufflebahm Oxshire, was able to attend this evening's battle to watch the lads get a "good ole' belly up beating." With goals being scored at will by the opposition, the Loyalists found themselves embroiled in an ever sinking enterprise shortly after the first quarter of the match. With a final score reaching near triple digits, the boys in royal blue can be proud that their traditional 3 goal scoring prows was not abandoned.
Alas, I would be a wild ass not to note that the fluctuation of the FTSE and the present banter in Geneva over EU trade agreements were certainly vexing the lads as they attempted to gather their heads and build a cohesive defense this evening.
Thankfully, on a night of little glory, I did have the good fortune to see the Loyalist named Brian, I believe with some certainty an Italian of original, poach two wondrous goals. Speedy and clever on the ball, he remains the key threat for the club. He also mentioned that his family, I believe, are regents of some great Brewing empire... I believe in Milwaukee. Indeed... terrific pedigree.
As with previous matches, the second half served to prove the boys can play football. While still conceding an remarkable number of goals, the team got tougher and started to play more cohesively. There was strong on-the-pitch leadership with Franco (whose lineage could be traced back to the emperors of Rome, I am told) anchoring the back-line, and midfield mayhem provided by Phillip "the brother", Nicholas "the Greek" (a decedent of Achilles), and CJ "the other brother." Injuries and a seemingly terrible case of "the runs" robbed the lads of some additional fire power tonight.
But like the boys of the 22nd Manchester at the Somme (god rest their souls), all this evening's bravery led to only a bitter defeat to an enemy that showed no mercy.
Until next Sunday, God Save The Queen.
