Tooley's Take on our website is the kindest take possible on a dire evening in Newport. We won 0-3 but it was an exercise in survival for those watching. The beautiful game this wasn't. The idiot goal stolen by Markanday after 40 seconds comforted us as we groaned that at least we were winning.
First, a confession, as I slowly decline towards dementia, I might occasionally refer to our Kenny-Everett-handed young keeper as Marshall. He's called Thompson I know, but my first crush was on Marshall Thompson, the lead in Daktari. Luckily he was more interested in Clarence the cross-eyed lion. But all these years on I can't stop accidentally calling our keeper Marshall. Quite soon my affections transferred to Patrick Macnee, Steed from The Avengers. I obviously went for the more mature man! Hopefully we can avoid signing any players whose names trigger "my befuddled brain" (a quote from Procul Harum) to rename them Macnee or Steed.
Bizarrely having watched us struggle last week against a man of only 6'5" Newport left 6'9" Kyle Hudlin sprawled on the bench. He finally shambled apologetically onto the pitch with the game two-thirds over, his body language shrinking him by several inches. He had chosen to curate his hair into two ill-formed non-matching antlers flopping unevenly against their elastic bands. His Auntie-Aleysha's shortie bedsocks were clearly designed to emphasise the abnormally long and spindly legs emerging unwillingly from aero-dynamically-unsustainably voluminous shorts.
Kyle won a couple of headers and hit a post with a cross desperately clawed away by our goalkeeper Daktari. Soon Grimes leapt into him to challenge for a header, leaving Hudlin grounded like a disassembled spider on the turf. That prompted Will Grigg to demonstrate that centre forwards need not leap high to score goals, cleverly adding two from an apparently somnolent position in the the six-yard box.
Newport's best player was undoubtedly Kamwa, whose focus was spot-on throughout, producing the odd snapshot and enlivening a rather passive attack with an entire album of tricks. The permanently argumentative Wildig eventually had to be substituted. Apparently he is to be confined to a telephone box to see whether he can manage to start an argument there.
Our best player was undoubtedly Ty Williams who chummed up with Araujo to handle everything half-heartedly thrown at them. Dobra performed as if choreographed by Dancing (willdoit) and was soon voted off by the audience.
It was a bad bad game and Newport will be well-advised to employ a dresser for Kyle Hudlin in future. Berry, glued to the bench, and Drummond and Hobson on loan must have wondered, but it is hard to argue with a 0-3. We did deserve to win and Newport certainly deserved to lose.
First, a confession, as I slowly decline towards dementia, I might occasionally refer to our Kenny-Everett-handed young keeper as Marshall. He's called Thompson I know, but my first crush was on Marshall Thompson, the lead in Daktari. Luckily he was more interested in Clarence the cross-eyed lion. But all these years on I can't stop accidentally calling our keeper Marshall. Quite soon my affections transferred to Patrick Macnee, Steed from The Avengers. I obviously went for the more mature man! Hopefully we can avoid signing any players whose names trigger "my befuddled brain" (a quote from Procul Harum) to rename them Macnee or Steed.
Bizarrely having watched us struggle last week against a man of only 6'5" Newport left 6'9" Kyle Hudlin sprawled on the bench. He finally shambled apologetically onto the pitch with the game two-thirds over, his body language shrinking him by several inches. He had chosen to curate his hair into two ill-formed non-matching antlers flopping unevenly against their elastic bands. His Auntie-Aleysha's shortie bedsocks were clearly designed to emphasise the abnormally long and spindly legs emerging unwillingly from aero-dynamically-unsustainably voluminous shorts.
Kyle won a couple of headers and hit a post with a cross desperately clawed away by our goalkeeper Daktari. Soon Grimes leapt into him to challenge for a header, leaving Hudlin grounded like a disassembled spider on the turf. That prompted Will Grigg to demonstrate that centre forwards need not leap high to score goals, cleverly adding two from an apparently somnolent position in the the six-yard box.
Newport's best player was undoubtedly Kamwa, whose focus was spot-on throughout, producing the odd snapshot and enlivening a rather passive attack with an entire album of tricks. The permanently argumentative Wildig eventually had to be substituted. Apparently he is to be confined to a telephone box to see whether he can manage to start an argument there.
Our best player was undoubtedly Ty Williams who chummed up with Araujo to handle everything half-heartedly thrown at them. Dobra performed as if choreographed by Dancing (willdoit) and was soon voted off by the audience.
It was a bad bad game and Newport will be well-advised to employ a dresser for Kyle Hudlin in future. Berry, glued to the bench, and Drummond and Hobson on loan must have wondered, but it is hard to argue with a 0-3. We did deserve to win and Newport certainly deserved to lose.
![[Image: 2ZJuVRk.gif]](https://i.imgur.com/2ZJuVRk.gif)