It was one of those bound-to-win games that we almost always lose. Unbeaten at home, they hadn't won away, it was all set up for failure, and when Danny Boshell swept in a beauty on the half hour, it looked like a typical Rotherham bottlejob was on the cards. But this was a Grimsby team infected with a terminal, underlying cancer, and minutes after the restart Reuben Reid headed in his 5th of the season when assisted beautifully, perfectly, by Rhodes. Mark Hudson completed the turnaround 8 minutes later with a low shot that squirmed past Barnes, and Micky Cummins made it 3-1 with a cracking low drive on 69 - 'it wod abat toime I did tumtin' he told the after match press.
The script was complete when substitute Barker bulleted in a header from another outstanding Rhodes centre on 80 to condemn a crestfallen Grimsby to a 4-1 defeat, but as it turned out it would be Barker's last goal for RUFC before being put down in late May. 'Plus points plus points', but this time that drunken, wife-beating, absolutely battered slob was right. Rotherham were on 1 point. 'But I asked him where the train station was!' the grief-stricken reporter later quivvered.
An unappealing televised JPT game against Leeds followed that victory, and with the Millers' only defeat being that second-rate performance at Saltergate, confidence was high as the much-fancied fellow Yorkshiremen came in numbers for their first ever visit to the DV. But the bookies got this one wrong as Rotherham again took advantage of a porous opposition defence by netting 4.
Sharps' header from Nicholas' only successful long throw of the campaign nudged the home side in front, and although Jonny Howson levelled matters, Rotherham had the chance to regain the lead when a fabulous run by Reid was halted illegally by Hughes...penalty kick. Hudson had a chance to make it 2 goals in 3 games, and although Lucas blocked his tame first effort, the midfielder with the engine of a Yugo GV rolled in at the second attempt.
After the break it was more of the same - Broughton rounded off an excellent move with a well placed header and Fenton nutted in a powerful 4th from Rhodes' corner. Showumni made use of Warrington's arthritis a few minutes later when he cut the deficit with a low shot but the stopper atoned for his error with a string of decent saves to keep the scoreline at 4-2. 'And I don't even ring Fergie!' a modest Robins told the Sky cameras. 'You're pulling my leg' Rob Hawthorne replied whilst looking in the direction of Broughton and Nicholas.
In between the JPT win and the next home fixture against strugglers Barnet was a trip down to the South Coast against Bournemouth. It was a lazy performance that suggested the Rotherham players thought they'd done it all already, and in truth the most memorable thing of that day was that we thought it'd be funny to give Darren Anderton all the room in Dorset, but the home side's possession came to no great avail and it finished goalless. It was another decent point, though, and we went into the game against Barnet fully expecting 3.
Most of the 3801 crowd at the game, in truth, had come more to hear about Giles Brearley's new book, entitled 'an arrogant clown's cover up for fundamental mistakes - my story' than to see the game, but in the end they accidentally stumbled upon a thriller.
When Fenton headed in his 3rd of the season early on, the Millers fans breathed a collective sigh of relief and could tuck into their Bon Bon Strawberry Cheesecake in the safe knowledge that we'd avoided another potential banana skin. But speaking of banana skins, Albert Adomah whipped a cross in 10 minutes later and Luke Medley drew Barnet level. Barnet were showing the sort of raw pace, trickery and athleticism that often ties our static rearguard of practised but creaking journeymen in knots, but the Millers were gifted the chance to put the game to bed on 30 minutes.
Rhodes showed some rarely seen electrifying pace and bypassed the entire Barnet defence before being cynically felled by Porter. A clear-cut red card and a penalty which Hudson stepped up to take. Like a couple of Tuesday's previous, however, his penalty was soft, and Harrison pushed it wide. This was to give some Rotherham fans the ammunition to make Hudson the scapegoat, and some still don't seem to have forgiven him, saying he can f*ck off despite being our best midfielder. It's alright though, they're 20th, down to 10 men and never win away, we'll be fine as long as we don't concede another 3.
We conceded another 3. The 4th, it's fair to say, was the pick of the bunch - Warrington and Fenton executing the sort of indecision that Montgomery and Murdock would have been proud of. A sense of disbelief stained the DV, and even Sharps' header then Burchill's pen (in fact, for time's sake, I'll not say 'Burchill pen' in the future, I'll just say Burchill and you can assume it was a pen) didn't make the devastating defeat look any more pleasant. In fact, it looked more shambolic. Something about 3-4 just smacks of joke teams. Incredibly, the Millers nearly made it 4-4 in the last minute when Nicholas hit the bar but that sort of luck, mixed with the heroics of Barnet's Lee Harrison, combined to condemn Rotherham to their first defeat at their new home. 'As long as we don't lose ever again, Don Valley will be bearable', we all thought to ourselves on the 55 minute drive home.
Good teams bounce back from defeat, and the next 2 games saw Rotherham quickly exonerate the memories of Barnet with two excellent away wins. The second of those came in a dogged win at Macclesfield - the eye-catching Dale Tonge rewarding his own excellent displays with a smart goal before Andy Nicholas and Ian Sharps dropped their 'who's got the slowest turning circle' contest for a moment and combined to make sure of the 3 points. Minutes later, Nicholas proved to Sharps that it was in fact he who had the slowest turning circle when he let Rooney cross far too easily, and Francis Green netted a consolation. Sharps and Jennings were then both stupidly dismissed for a ruckus in the Macc goalmouth.
The more impressive win for the Millers that week, however, came not far from Moss Rose, as Rotherham stunned 2nd placed Bury with a win at Gigg Lane the Tuesday previous. All's well that starts well and the visitors were flying within 11 minutes of the game - Reuben Reid broke through and slotted home the opener just 2 minutes in and Drewe Broughton rounded off a wonderful move with a pinpoint header before celebrating with the travelling faithful. Poddington got his arm in on the photo of this.
Paul Scott pulled one back and as the away side sat a little bit too deep, Bury were granted the chance to equalise with 10 minutes remaining. Fenton fouled former Miller and blind-alley regular Chris O'Grady, who went down like a big ball of 100% wages. Nonetheless, there was no need to protest - Warrington saved Bishop's pen and his side held on for one of the results of the season.
Life, death, taxes...and Rotherham United to go on a woeful run of form somewhere between October and January after a promising start. We all remember Harford's 17 game winless run. We remember Knill's too. But that was in a higher division, and this team has more backbone, surely it wouldn't happen again?
Well, November's depressing tale had a whiff of stinging familiarity about it, with no league wins and just one in all competitions (8 games). It started with two drab, freezing games at the Don Valley. The first was a sickeningly cold night on which a Darlington team nearly as boring as us came, pinched a goal through Ravenhill and watched as we passed sideways and backwards and looked nothing like scoring. A looped effort from Reid in the last minute was the closest we came, but Brown tipped it over.
But just as everyone had thawed out, another icy day saw Wycombe come to town (Sheffield's) and very much freeze out the game, with as nullifying and defensive a performance as you'll see. Much talked about but never seen before Spaniard Omar Garcia made his debut, showing some signs that he was alright, but certainly not enough to command the sort of reverence he received from some quarters. Some fans are actually, a bit weirdly, still writing on his Facebook. He usually replies 'que?' . The game finished 0-0.
The one thing to cheer about in November was another higher division scalp, as League One runaway leaders Leicester became the latest big gun to be shot down at the football paradise Don Valley. Bad traffic meant that middle class folk like me had to venture onto the tram and mingle with the likes of merry, kerry and a strange looking fellow in a blue suit with a pink carnation buttonhole. One of those creatures who wear the Earth Mortgages home shirt over a grey hoodie with G Star jeans and thinning Lacoste trainers nearly made contact with me, but I wriggled away.
The game started as normal - djtony played blancmange, the black catering staff used sign language to communicate with the customers and REDDUKE went on online porn. But something unfamiliar did happen when on the stroke of half time, Mills - who was sensational on the night - played a beautiful ball (1) and Broughton finished with a deft volley (2) causing an atmosphere in the home end (3). Dale Tonge doubled the advantage with a prodded finish on 58, and even though Leicester were awarded a late penalty for god knows what, leading scorer Matt Fryatt blasted at Warrington's legs.
I'd have gone into more detail but TFA's mistress was distracting me from the game throughout by repeatedly elbowing me as she pretended to get her phone out. Nobody needs their phone that many times in a game, Mrs Ale. And nobody is as clumsy as that with their elbows (save, perhaps, Chris Morgan...ahhh, get off me Gunterry! There's no Mohammed the Bear here!). That, as I said, was as good as it got, and the Leicester game was the first of three consecutive cup games for Rotherham that week.
A 1-1 FA Cup draw at Aldershot came the weekend before the Carling Cup visit to Stoke, a day on which the Millers would have won their first FA Cup game, believe this, since the 2002 Southampton game, if not for a daft lunge by Nick Fenton in the last minute. Grant's goal from the consequential spot kick earned the Shots a replay at the Don Valley that they would go on to batter us in, after Micky Cummins had slammed Rotherham in front at the Recreation Ground.
All the eyes were on the Stoke game the following Tuesday, however, and it was a game which had been much anticipated, with even miserable, anti-football, Zeitgeist addict ExeterMiller stating that 'all true Millers who can go to this will go'. Xserbarus, however, didn't attend, in protest at Stoke's betrayal of becoming a Premiership club.
It was a massive following from the Millers, shocking a man who should have known we travel in numbers when we can be arsed - John Breckin let out a definite 'f*ck me' accompanied with startled face as he turned and revelled at the thousands of inbred folk in the away end. But unlike Hillsborough, the travelling army embarrassed the club as the same minority as usual acted like dickheads. Some of deano's mates pissed on the coach, some of deano's mates caused trouble in the foyer and, the worst of the night, some of deano's mates tore seats out at the end and wittily chanted, 'cheap seats from Matalan'. By 'tore', I mean tugged at and half heartedly kicked before asking 20 other Fred Perry wearing accomplices for assistance.
The game was very much as I put it earlier. Stoke's team wasn't overly weakened, and still included first teamers such as Shawcross, Whelan and (eventually) Fuller, meaning they were just a cut above, a bridge too far, for an arduously beaten but quality deficient mix of lower league promising, experienced and talentless footballers. The goals came from a Whelan free kick and an untracked Pugh, but for all the lack of spark (that Taylor came on and looked the brightest probably best sums this up) and chances, it was a determined and valiant effort in a game we were, for all the dreaming, speculating and hoping, never gonna win.
The wheels were really starting to come off the Rotherham United train with a further three straight defeats. Fair to say we never win at Gillingham but we don't usually buckle as easily as we did this time, but matters weren't helped by the daft sending off of popular, combative midfielder-cum-midfielder Daniel Harrison on 35. The Millers were already a goal down by this point but the Scouser's two footed challenge left the away side with Kilimanjaro to climb, given Barker and Garcia were the men we were relying on to pull off a miraculous comeback. In fact, Harrison's tackle was so imprudent that it went towards finally explaining why he never usually bothers to tackle. Or shoot. Or get involved.
Gillingham went on to win the game 4-0, with Robins telling the after-match press, 'He (Harrison) isn't a malicious player'. What kind of player he IS has yet to be decided after over 80 appearances for the club. Hopes were high that that misery could be put behind us with a cup win against an Aldershot team who had won just 3 points on the road all season in the replay on Tuesday. But why should statistics ever work in our favour? And why, after years of being torn apart by teams with any inkling of pace, should we have learnt our lesson and be able to deal with teams who can actually move? It didn't help that it was a game Mark Robins clearly didn't want to win - the fixture congestion was already bad enough, and a futile trip to Millwall (who would almost certainly beat us) to add to the cluster wasn't ideal. So we threw it. Effortless display, goals for Hudson (2) and Morgan and Rotherham were out of the FA Cup at the first hurdle. Again. And that night it finally sunk in. DV is proper shite. Another 4 years of this is unbearable.
Three more winless games followed but they had at least a shed of positivity about them as the performances weren't too shabby. In fact, the game vs high flying Bradford on the 22nd was one of the most enjoyable matches of the season despite the eventual 2-0 defeat. Sometimes being ill has long term benefits, you see. You shit more, you don't eat and people sympathise with you. And that kind of relates to Andy Nicholas, because for all his shit performances while in the side were sickeningly bad, his displays were so hard to watch that they eventually resulted in the inclusion of far better player Jamie Green. Long term benefit.
The biggest league crowd since the opening day, helped by a hefty following from our Yorkshire neighbours, saw a lively first half without many clear-cut chances, though debutant 'keeper David Stockdale smartly denied the impressive Luke O'Brien with a full stretch save. But it was 5 crazy 2nd half minutes which decided the game - a painfully unchallenged O'Brien fired the away side in front on 71 with a low drive sending the travelling Bantams into raptures. Immediately after the restart, however, Joseph set up Broughton and the man with just 1 league goal to his name showed why when he gave Evans a chance with a header that should have been in. No doubting that the save was world class as the Bradford stopper pushed it onto the underside of the bar, and as the Millers tried to spare Broughton's blushes by claiming the effort had crossed the line, a sucker punch was dealt at the other end. Nicky Law found possession on the break and his bouncing effort caught out Stockdale who really should have kept it out. 2-0 and a cruel scoreline on a day where The Millers played football, attacked well and should have earned at least a draw.
Disgruntled Millers fans still pointed angrily at the goal line (and strangely, one unnamed, plump hoodlum scratched his head and pointed at the 'D') as they told their middle aged mate Paul, fully clad in Wembley scarf and woolly hat, that 'it were in that...4 metre over't line. Robins was equally daft, 'I swear it hit the net' the slightly delusional gaffer told a bored Radio Sheffield afterwards. You can't knock Robins for sticking up for his talentless striker, but if it didn't even cross the line, chances are it didn't hit the net.
The long trip to Exeter three days later saw arguably the most cringe worthy event of the year as on a blistering night some proper die-hards thought they'd copy Newcastle's fans and remove their tops in stupid conditions. The Geordies usually reveal untoned, flaccid manboobs but on show in Devon was a range of the tubby, the pasty and the downright wretched. In truth, Exeter battered us, and but for a Premiership display from Premiership 'keeper Stockdale there's no way we'd have taken anything from the long journey down to one of those grounds where we never win.
The Grecians took the lead when Ben Watson finished from close range after some hesitant defending from Sharps in the build up, but the midfielder later missed a pen when he was brilliantly foiled by Stockdale. The 23 year old was in truly inspired form, and kept Rotherham in the game with saves from Sercombe's scorching volley and Harley's goal-bound header before Rotherham grabbed an undeserved equaliser. Barker tumbled under Murray's challenge and Reuben Reid grabbed his first goal since the win at Bury with a placed shot to Jones' left.
Exeter were unlucky not to win, but it wasn't the sort of performance that suggested the rematch at DV on the final game would be a promotion clincher for City, but that, I guess, sums up what a poor league it is. 'I'm happier doing nothing!' Stockdale jovially told the post match press in reference to his busy night. The entire midfield sat there and nodded in agreement, 'same here'.
The end of November saw Sky pencil in a date for a televised game against Wycombe in February, but little did they know then that it'd be the first television programme to cause death since Steve Irwin took things a little too far in 2006.
While we're talking about death, unfortunately December brought the sad news that long time fan 'Flukey' had died. Redandgreen managed to plug the Moulin Rouge in a thread where everyone else, especially me, offered their condolences. If ever there was a silver lining, though, it was that Mr Duke never had to see some of the performances Rotherham put in for the rest of the campaign.
The first game of the month was another defeat as Shrewsbury's bunch of mercenaries bored our lot into submission so much that we decided to get sent off to spruce things up a bit. Drewe Broughton started the fun with two of the sorts of maladroit challenges that he does 85 times a game earning him two bookings, before Stockdale joined in by legging up McIntrye on 69. Grant Holt scored his 86th pen of the season, beating soon-to-be JPT hero Steven Cann from 12 yards, and Shrewsbury were lucky to snatch 3 points from a game neither team deserved to win. It was a marginal improvement on some of the dross of the last month, but the defeat still meant 1 goal in 6 league games for a struggling Millers frontline. A JPT Northern Semi Finals win against Darlington on pens 10 days later restored the winning feeling to the Millers camp - Nick Fenton got the goal in the 1-1 draw but Scousers steal and Harrison bizarrely claimed it before Cann's penalty saves helped Rotherham into the Northern Final where they would face Scunny home and away. Micky Cummins scored the winning pen against his former club, but the midfield greyhound wasn't entirely sure it should have been him who sealed Darlo's fate: 'oi was wank for tem toe it oonly fair tat I be wank for de rotteram too'. He kept his promise. The funniest moment of December came when watson5 was robbed. Ok, that wasn't funny, though the fact that MillersMad told us a 'user' has had his 'framed collection of RUFC shirts' nicked and expected us not to put two and two together was pretty funny.
But what was most humorous was the MillersMad article stating that anyone with any info should CLICK HERE. No, the relevant link wasn't to the South Yorkshire Police website or to watson's email address, it was to MillersMad's cauldron for criminals otherwise known as the 'email the editor' link. I like to think that somewhere there's a related picture of deano, rich and keets in SWAT team gear glaring meanly into the camera. Priceless. Watson's burglary wasn't the only steal of the month, however, because up front for Rotherham in the trip to Accrington there was a rare start given to bargain of the year Mark Burchill, who we plucked from some Scottish's team grasp for a paltry sum of £2500 a week. On the one day of the season where the Scot actually earned his corn, The Millers took advantage of an opposition defence boasting Colin Murdock and took Accy apart in 12 first half minutes. Burchill notched his first from 12 yards after Murdock had given a pen away, then doubled the advantage by rounding off a superb move involving Harrison and Tonge. Hang on a minute, there was some good football for that goal, what's going o...ahhh. Mills has just been ruled out for 5 weeks with stomach cramp. Despite Proctor's consolation midway through the first half,
Jamie Green broke away late on and found Broughton unmarked for a tap in as he celebrated with some attention seeking Santas. 3-1, and an end to the barren run. It's always good to win on Boxing Day, and as the Millers took on a poor Port Vale team sitting just 7 points ahead of Rotherham at Christmas, expectations were high that it could be a Merry Christmas for the merry millers. Boxing Day also saw the unearthing of a new mascot, as dusty's return ended as tamely and abruptly as Richie Barker's. So what's it gonna be? Big scary bird with massive tits? A Bugsy Malone themed bloke with Salvatore Lo Piccolo inside? A fickle, bald outfit called Brin? Well, no. As it turned out it was a bear. A furry and cuddly bear, but nevertheless, a bear. He grizzled, smiled and waved and we half-heartedly did the same back whilst muttering through our teeth, still smiling and looking at him, 'what the fuck has a bear got to do with RUFC?' As it turns out, MillerBear is quality. Clearly, the bloke inside it is Tony Stewart's long lost alcoholic brother Dony, who's made a living from getting drunk, getting in a costume and blowing up some balloon animals, but he's everything a mascot should be (except in any way related to Rotherham). Having said that, our captain looks a bit like a bear, watching Nicholas play is unbearable and Reuben Reid has some bare skillz, so there's room for argument there.
The chances of the game being as entertaining as MillerBear were cut slim when halfway through the first half, Joseph messed about with the ball in defence, lost it, and went for the popular 'tug at the shirt of the one on one player and pretend you didn't touch him' tactic. Perry may have been a smidgen theatrical, but Joseph deserved his punishment. And got the rest of Christmas off. Ahem. Vale were abysmal though, and never made an attempt to win the game despite the man advantage. So when substitute Broughton benefited from a defensive error on 67 and hoisted Rotherham in front, Vale had got what they deserved. Glover came heart-stoppingly close to equalising with the last kick of the game, but a dogged performance saw the Millers go into the annual post-Christmas tie at Notts County on the back of two straight league wins. Most of the talk before the game at Meadow Lane was of the incredible pricing structure which meant it cost away fans £20 while just a fiver for home fans.
This resulted in a number of stubborn RUFC fans venturing into the home end...for all of 5 minutes until Reid scored, they all cheered like cavemen and got escorted to the away end. The dumplings already at the back of the away end applauded and sung for their returning heroes, not realising these people had paid a quarter of what they had in order to watch the game from the same place. 'I've not seen so much worn out denim in years', one Notts fan commented. It was the Millers fans who had the last laugh, though, with Rotherham putting in arguably the performance of the season and coasting to a 3-0 victory. Reid's early goal was added to by Broughton and Cummins shortly after the break - the Irishman's a wonderful half volley on the turn.
The result completed a 9 from 9 Christmas return for Rotherham, and fuelled some talk about whether we could actually make the playoffs. We were on 19, 6th placed Exeter were on 36, we were only 17 points off! Oh, wait, we were 17 points off at the start of the season. A win and good performance against defying-all-odds Dagenham would keep the dream pot stirring nicely, though. January Needless to say we provided neither. Another game where you just wanted to get out of the bone-numbing cold saw Dagenham harshly denied 3 points in stoppage time courtesy of a bundled goal from Ian Sharps. Apparently half the Rotherham squad had played the winter games with a virus, but it looked like they'd been hit by the January blues in a jaded performance to open the New Year. The diminutive Matt Richie had headed the away side ahead when Tonge was sleeping, and although a low, driven free-kick from Reid eventually deflected into the path of Sharps who levelled it, it was another uninspiring point against the Daggers.
The most enjoyable moment of the day came when djtony played the Sugababes classic 'Push the Button' between Atomic Rooster and Thin Lizzy and attributed the song to the cult favourite Mandy_Turner. I rule Rotherham United. Later in the week bigrich tried to undermine Jamie Green's manhood - 'size doesn't matter for Green' - before pretending the article was about the left back's impressive ability to challenge bigger players aerially. After a postponement of the scheduled game at Luton, The Millers were given a two week break before the visit of Bournemouth to the DV on January 17th.
Millmoorlane's brother Jason Taylor made a surprise switch from Stockport to Rotherham as Robins looked to bolster a much-criticised midfield. 'Hudson and Harrison are the best midfield in the league' smiled John Breckin before wetting himself and being wheeled off, as the actual manager panicked and brought in some ginner from County's reserves. 'I know I'll be write about him!' millmoorlane squealed on the messageboard. By this time we'd got bored of home games, and knew that even 3 points wouldn't be that satisfying given we've nowt to play for and just want to go home (and by that I mean Millmoor). Mark Hudson's beauty on 18 was enough to steer us closer to mathematical safety, although Bournemouth mounted serious pressure late on despite Danny Holland's sending off for a quickfire double booking. Still, it was 13 points from a possible 15 going into the potentially memorable night at Scunny in the JPT. This was nice. Sometimes you go into games, like that Bournemouth one, not really caring, but go because it's the routine, it gets you away from the wife, you're a fan of 70's music etc.
But sometimes you have games, even now, when you're buzzing. You really care. And this was one of those occasions - the excitement and anticipation beforehand was enjoyable, even if the game wasn't. Nobody could tame that excitement. Bigrich shit himself when the teams came out. Unfortunately, though, for all Scunny are a Conference club off the pitch, they're a Championship side on it. Exactly what we didn't need was for them to turn it on, but they did. We were just outclassed.
The first half was brave and, but for Matt Sparrow's lunge on the returning Warrington in which the Millers fans barked angrily at ref and player, neither set of fans had much to get excited about. At half time questions seriously had to be asked of whether the already moribund Glanford Park was really built in the late 90s - views were obstructed by poles ('Vot you say?'' Not you Mr and Mrs Prezierak!!), it took some fans half an hour to get a tea and they ran out of virtually every food. Those who made it back from the refreshment bar for the second half saw a different game altogether - Scunny passed quickly, they upped the tempo, Martyn Woolford started to orchestrate and Hooper's movement was tiring Sharps and Fenton. And they opened the scoring not long after the break when Woolford slotted home a scrappy opener. Nobody likes the JPT so I've never seen the goal since, but from the limited vision I had at the time it seemed an awful goal. Then, after Warrington had pulled off a blinding save, Scunny doubled the advantage from the consequent corner - Pearce heading in from close range. To have any chance of a shock, I'm afraid, you just can't afford to concede from a corner. And you can't afford to miss sitters either.
But in stoppage time, Sharps did exactly that - just a few yards out, on the turn, 90% of the net gaping, chance to put Rotherham right back in it - and he fluffed it. 2-0, then, and only slight hopes that we could turn it around in the second leg. 'The worst possible result' sighed millmoorlane, not realising that 3 or 4 nil scorelines exist. Two more away defeats followed as relegation threatened Grimsby turned The Millers over at Blundell Park with a 3-0 victory before Darlington, playing with just 10 men for over half an hour, held on for a 1-0 victory the Tuesday after.
The visit of Macclesfield on the final day of January saw a return to winning ways, however, with two top class goals bringing about the much needed win. Hudson rounded off a move involving Tonge and Reid on 12 with a guided volley, showing the sort of raw quality rarely seen in this division. 'TELL mark HUDson he CAN go'! an unnamed irrational poster moaned as Hudson celebrated his second consecutive DV beauty. GainsboroMiller despaired. Creator of the first - Reid - finished the game off with a deft lob late on. DavidR distastefully lambasted Macclesfield's tumour suffering boss Keith Alexander afterwards, referring to him as simply 'Brain'. Brin encouraged David by replying with the sort of excitable smileys usually seen in a topic involving kitty's pants, Chubby_B and sexist jokes about kitchens. The likes of redandgreen, however, voiced their concerns over R's dark humour. Brin then replied 'Shame on you David' with the new disapproval smiley. In a desperate attempt to regain some respect, DavidR later claimed he was actually referring to Macc's keeper Jonny Brain. Don't be ridiculous.
FOR PART 3 CLICK HERE
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