Barlaston Hockey Club

Tymons Self-Harms in Bid to Avoid Cones

As any regular attendee of Tuesday night training will know the cones are back in town. In a bid to reverse declining on-field fortunes a return of 'proper training' has been attempted by drafting in senior training consultants Lewis & Cone. This has been seen as a progressive move by the more forward thinking members but hasn't met with universal approval. Some have even taken to self harming in a desperate ploy to discredit Lewis & Cone's methods.

A wet & windy Tuesday evening three weeks ago saw the reappearance of Lewis & Cone amid much grumbling and face pulling. Undeterred the expert consultants laid out a challenging set of exercises for the gathered athletes and put them to work. Results were not immediate. 2nd XI power forward Mark Milnes was first to voice his concerns when a gentle warm up consisting of a 200 yard jog and dribble exercise proved too much.

His gasped complaints against the light physical workout unsettled the easily distracted Brett Youngman, who started to devote more attention to retrieving the ball for the football chicks training next door. Youngmans pitiful attempts to punt the association football back to the football chicks caused further discombobulation among the ranks and soon veteran shaft handler Fred Marsdens concentration was also broken.

Marsden took to toeing away any cones that impeded his progress - which is pretty much all of them as they're there to be dribbled around. The 48 year olds puerile antics left the carefully designed course in chaos and Lewis & Cone conceeded defeat, calling an early end to the farce.

A stern address from Lewis & Cone was administered to the assembled athletes. Heads were hung and oaths sworn to improve next week.

The absence of Marsden and Milnes from the following weeks session had a positive effect on the cone action. Hustle was shown by the remaining athletes and only a handfull of cones were damaged during dribbling exercises. A record of 3 passes were strung together during the freestyle passing exercise and the unopposed short corner practise saw an impressive 2 shots fired off in 15 minutes. Progress by anyones standards.

However, the dissenting voices are getting louder. Serial disrupter Marsden opined to this reporter "Useless. He's an idiot that Lewis fop. Who does he think he is coming in here with his high faluting training ideas? We play either kick-and-rush or dribble-till-you-hit-the-fence tactics - always have always will."

The powerfully built Milnes chipped in "Yeah... high five Funky. I've sent him some drills that involve gut barging and diving exercises. That'll get us improving."

But the really worrying attitude comes from super-uber-veteran John 'Barney' Tymons, who has taken some tangible action in protest against the new regime. "I ain't turning up on Tuesday for poncy training. I turn up to practice kicking it and swinging for little kids. That's what my game is based on and that's what I need from Tuesday night - a supply of weiners to decapitate and an umpire who can't understand the feet rule. I'm a man of principle so I've taken action."

Tymons has recently been hospitalised with a self inflicted double compound fracture of the pointing finger. In a sort of dirty protest he rammed the digit into the eye of an unlucky Wolves opponent during a recent vets encounter thus rendering himself unable to train for many weeks. "Now who's winning eh? Eh?" cried the deranged doctor.

The cones will be out this Tuesday evening, with or without Professor Tymons and his naysayers Milnes & Marsden.

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Old Hacker Swings His Stick For The Last Time

The sun has set on a fearesome chapter in the history of Barlaston Hockey Club - The Butcher has finally hung up his axe and anounced his retirement from the game. Troubled by a persistent heel injury Chris Holland has acknowledged that the sands of time engulf even the mightiest warriors in the end.

He leaves behind him a bevvy of young defenders trained in his imagine and all adept in the covert practices of strong armed enforcement. Only this season one of his more senior disciples Mark Rushton pleased the old master with a well executed rugby tackle on the edge of the 'D'. The master was umpiring at the time and was forced to issue a yellow card to Rushton, but not for the obvious offence. Holland later stated that the caution was for 'not breaking his leg', and next time it would be a red card if there was no serious injury caused.

Who can forget The Butcher's invitations to 'come into my 25 and try that airy fairy nonsense' to many a fancy dan forward. Or 'he's looking pretty arsing around out there lads. But does he dare come over here?'

His boy Oliver is looking a good bet to break a good few laws of the game, and already has the blatant foot and swinging stick off pat.

Holland Snr will continue to apply the laws of the game in his new position of 1st XI Umpire and has already requested a deed poll name change to Umpire Hell. Pity the poor miscreants who flout the spirit of the game when The Butcher is in charge for he will surely prove that the whistle is mightier than the stick.

Outsider Takes Amisons Title

A rank outsider has come storming through the field to take the 'Dumb-Ass Turning Up at the Old Pitch' award. Step forward Mr Adam Ruddick, high flying academic and musician of whom much is expected in the game of life. However, even the more gifted can have 'senior' moments as Ruddick proved when he turned up to Staffs Uni for this weekends game, despite having already turned out for the club at the new pitch this season. His explanation - "I thought that it was just the Badgers who'd moved pitch" - has been documented and sent to his university tutors, who were sufficiently unimpressed by the boys perceptive powers to annonce that Ruddick must now work 25 hour days if he wants to secure a third class degree in woodshop.

All those who had their money on Amo have our deepest sympathy - it was the safest bet since odds were offered on Gareth Morris kicking a few players before the year is out.

Is There Nothing That is Beneath Us?

Violence, insubordination, gambling cartels, ringers - just a few of the dark arts practiced by Barlaston HC in recent times. But even the most cynical old hacker must have been taken aback by the new additions to the catalogue of shame in the last fortnight, with the crimes of common thievery and simulation taking centre stage at the Duke of York and Alleynes Fortress of Invincibility respectively.

Firstly, let us address the grand larceny of Bloxwich's teas from the Duke at approximately 1700 hours on the 4th November 2006. Bloxwich, fresh from being mauled and slashed at by resident 3rd XI beserker Nick Walker, were cajolled back to the Duke with promises of chipped potatoes and reparitory drinks. However, on arrival at HQ all that was left of the feast was some grease streaked plates and a bevy of satisfied 2nd XI fat cats purring contendedly and licking their chops.

Suspected ring-leader Mark Milne was asked for his thoughts about the theft, "If they don't get back to the Duke before 5 then teas are fair game. It's first come first serve in this life. But erm.... I actually don't know anything about this particular incident."

2nd XI supremo Coach Kavanagh tells a different story, "I just can't control this rabble. They're like a swarm of locusts and I knew that as soon as the clock struck five they'd descend on the unguarded food and it'd be feeding frenzy time."

Staffordshire Police are currently investigating the theft and are asking for anybody who has any information on the 2nd XI stealing opposition teas to come forward and grass them right up.

Secondly we have to discuss the cancer of simulation that is afflicting the glorious, honorable and noble game of Professional Association Football, and has now infected the ranks of Barlaston HC 1st XI. Skipper and guardian of team morals Gareth Morris must hold up his hands and say to the press "Yes I took a tumble".

After spending fifteen minutes in the sin-bin Morris came back onto the pitch last Saturday looking for some payback. His opportunity presented itself when he received the faintest of nudges from his opponent. Morris went down like the proverbial sack of pooh, with a pike, tuck and triple somersault thrown in for good measure. Screams of "Aiiiiieeeeeeeee" and "Why?" reverberated around the empty stadium as Morris rolled dramatically for 30 yards, only coming to rest when he landed at the umpires feet with a simpering look of hurt.

Umpire Hell was having none of it and ordered Morris back onto his feet. He was swiftly shown a pink card for simulation and sheepishly returned to the action.

Resident hockey pundit Richard Column opined "I just think that maybe there he's gone down a little too easily. He'll not be too pleased when he sees the replay of that one."

Beknighted thespian Sir Michael Caine chipped in, "He's a big man but he's rolling out of shape".

Perhaps Morris was enfeebled by a particularly long squawk at the match official, or perhaps he was still feeling the effects of a 'bad pint' that caused him to leave the field of play twice one afternoon back in 1999. Whatever the reason behind his losing bout with gravity one thing is sure - Beefy Botham was not proud.

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30th September 2006 - Gansta Hackers Plague the Peaceful Hamlet of Barlaston

Not since the heady days of Lennox Death in his pugilistic pomp has Barlaston Hockey Club experienced such a level of ill tempered behaviour and violent posturing as it is currently experiencing. Ugly scenes and threats laden with murderous intent are currently the norm when the bad boys of BHC are in town and off their humour. Just what’s up with the boys and girls of the mighty Swans?

We asked eminent sports psychologist Professor Reginald Hammershaft to analyse some of the more testy incidents from recent weeks, starting with this weekends thuggish display of chest beating from 1^st XI skipper Gareth Morris.

“What we see here is a classic example of a teenagers sense of injustice and anger with the world in general, and his frustration at his inability to control his own environment and, indeed, destiny. Young Morris is clearly bundled to the ground by his older and more talented opponent, something which incidently also suggests an alarming lack of upper body strength and balance, and he reacts as would a small child, pretending to lash out at the nearest thing to him, in this case the wrong member of the opposition. He accompanies his ‘phantom punch’ with a very real and grotesque gurn which can clearly be seen to startle his innocent victim much more than the raising of hands. I also understand that Morris was, to use the parlance of todays street youngsters, ‘bigging himself up’ after the game in the dressing room, declaring his victim to have been ‘turding himself’. This also conforms to classic behaviour patterns seen in many pubescent male adolescents and is something that I’m confident young Morris will leave behind him as he enters his late teens and starts to become active in the sexual arena.”

When Prof. Hammershaft was appraised of Morris’ actual age, twenty-six, he was forced to revisit his diagnosis. “He’s a dick” was the professors second opinion.

Prof Hammershaft was then shown footage of club legend Sebastian Lewis losing his cool and gut-barging an opponent to within an inch of his life two weeks ago. “This is an altogether more mature reaction to intolerable provocation and shows Lewis’ valour and honour. He was clearly violently assaulted by his sucker-punching, cowardly adversary and takes completely appropriate redress. Gut-barging was first perfected by the acolytes of the elite Spartan warrior caste in ancient Greece, and is thought to have played a pivotal part in the Battle of Thermopylae in 480BC. A handful of Spartan warriors went on a suicide mission to hold up the advance of a million Persian invaders and were immortalised when a crack squad of gut-bargers forced back the Persian line with a sustained drive of thrusting bellies and ale talk. This was the level of performance in the field of combat that Lewis displayed two weeks ago, and I’ll tell you what – I bet that dastardly fellow on the other end of the barging was black and blue for a fortnight. Well done Lewis”.

The venerable Hammershaft then turned his attention to the slightly older footage of Mark Rushton taking on the finest Portmadog HC had to offer. “Yes, this incident highlights a rather large flaw in Rushton’s character – cowardice. He quite clearly is ‘turding himself’ as the angry man in the tight 1980’s shorts grabs him by the lapels and uses some quite choice threatening language. Rushton visibly shrinks from the confrontation and is only spared a beating when his assailant becomes overpowered by the foul stench that Rushton involuntarily emits. Again in the vernacular of the street I believe this tactic is known as ‘skunking’, a last ditch response from the body of the coward involving the loosening of bowels and occasionally projectile vomiting. There is something I can prescribe for this boy – get yourself a backbone”.

Finally the Professor addresses Rob Bagshot’s recent attempts to clothesline two opponents for no apparent reason. “The boy’s a headbanger of the highest order.End of.”.

So, we certainly have some food for thought provided by the Professor’s wise words. What can be done to combat the excesses of violence currently plauging the normally well loved and respected Barlaston player pool. Perhaps anger management counselling for Bagshot? ‘Dealing with Puberty’ help groups for Morris? ‘How to stop being a big Jessie’ seminars for Rushton. Maybe, but probably of better use would be to stop losing and playing like a bunch of jellyfish every week.

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Tymons Lured Back by the Promise of a Banana Stick

Barlaston stunned the hockey community with an audacious last minute transfer coup leaving local rivals North Staffs reeling and facing an uncertain future, wondering just how they will cope with the loss of the ageless John Tymons.

Tymons left Barlaston at the end of the 2002/2003 season stating that he needed a higher standard of hockey to keep him interested. North Staffs gleefully accepted his signature and never really looked back as the white haired whinger made his mark in the Midlands Fathom. Three seasons of uninterupted excellence followed as North Staffs performed with distinction in the Midlands Premier division. The Tymons-less Barlaston outfit endured some desperate times during the same period and sunk to the bottom of the Coaching Solutions league pile. A dismal 2004/2005 season saw them relegated to the basement league and banished to far flung outposts such as Ludlow and Newtown. The club needed to do something and do it soon. Club chairman Nick Davies takes up the story....

"We were suffering badly without the dynamic Tymons in the fold. The boys in the firsts were getting punished weekly. We held a crisis meeting at the beginning of last season and the answer seemed obvious to one and all. Get Tymons. By any means necessary."

And so the wheels were put in motion. Agent to the stars Eric Hall was employed with a simple mission statement - get the old git back in black. Approaches were made and a number of clandestine meetings arranged. Hall recalls the period with breathless excitement, "He's a wily old fox is monster Tymons. He knows all the tricks in the book. We were constantly nearing an agreement but every time he tried to screw a little bit more out of us. I'm telling you he drives a monster hard bargain, but I wasn't going to let him go."

Hall had to admit defeat in the bid to lure Tymons back for the 2005/2006 season - the sticking point being a clause allowing Tymons to bring his hound to every game and secure it to a bright yellow kit bag at the side of the pitch. But he was determined to get his man and embarked on a year long dirty tricks campaign to unsettle the maestro. Finally, just last week Tymons held a press conference and made the announcement that the whole of Barlaston needed to hear - "I'm back and I'm in black!"

He continued "I said you couldn't do without me and wasn't I just right. Relegated to the bums league. Well here I am so let's get ready to mumble and play some ball."

Rumours are circulating about the extent of the rewards package put together by Hall and Davies. Some say Tymons has had his head turned by the purchase of a twelve foot long stick, while others have alluded to an inexhaustable supply of tatty body warmers and windcheaters turning up on his door step. North Staffs have acquired a brand new club house. Coincidence? Maybe, it's not this humble reporters place to say, but what price will they be forced to pay in the longer term now that they are without the legendary libero? We asked North Staffs supremo Lee Durber what he thought of the whole affair and he said "Who? Who'd you say was leaving?" The phrase 'in denial' springs immediately to mind.

Still one clubs certain doom is anothers fountain of life and the mighty Swans are buoyant in the extreme at present. Head coach Gareth Morris gushed "I'm over the moon, it's a dream come true for us. I'd heard that their might be some dodgy dealing going on but I didn't even dare hope that we could lure him back. For younger players like myself it's just an honour to get the chance to share a pitch with him. We're going places, just mark my words."

Tymons is back in black, and for those about to hack we salute you.

Peacock Outed by Better Half

Badgers enforcer and occasional jailbird Adrian Peacock was sensationally outed at the weekend by his better half Linzy. It appears that the rugged defender has developed his gruff exterior as a response to taunting and teasing during his formative years. The reason for the leg pulling? Dodgy middle name.

Said Mrs Peacock “I should have realised something was amiss when he was so evasive about his name when he first wooed me. On the first date he said he was called Adrian Shuttlecock, then that changed to Brian Brittlecock and finally he said it was Adam Ramrod. I was quite relieved when he came clean and Peacock was settled on.”

Clearly warming to her outing task Mrs Peacock continued “Then one time when I was bailing him out of the lockup on an inebriated affray charge I had to bring his passport. I noticed from the passport that he had a middle name that he’d been keeping from me.”

Despite a pained expression and pathetic whimpers from Peacock his wife would not be shut up. She went on “It’s such a normal boring name I really don’t know why he keeps it secret. Still, I suppose everybody wants a little mystique in their lives so I didn’t press the matter. But I’m so proud of him – except when the red windmilling mist come down – and I’m so proud to be Mrs Adrian Chris Peacock.” Please amend your mobile phonebooks accordingly.