Arrived this morning, looking tattered but proud, came the carrier pigeon bringing forth The Wing Commander’s insightful preview of England’s crucial international fixtures versus Israel and Russia. I asked on your behalf as to why the noble messenger bird had only arrived in time for the latter; The Wing Commander believes the KGB detained it for questioning. Nevertheless, I think you’ll find his piece retains its power and validity. The Wing Commander:
“CONCERNING THE FORTHCOMING FIXTURES BETWEEN ENGLAND AND THE ISRAELITES AND THE SOVIETS AND THEIR FOREGONE CONCLUSIONS, IN ANTICIPATION OF MATCH REPORTS TO FOLLOW
There has been a great deal of talk, in both the yellow and the legitimate press, regarding England’s lengthy injury list. Given the nature of one of our opponents, one certainly has good reason to suspect that Owen Hargreaves’s thigh injury in particular is the result of an umbrella jab by an undercover enemy agent; the Russian ambassador should certainly be summoned to the FA to explain himself. The upshot is call-ups for the likes of Emile Heskey, Ashley Young, Nicholas Barmby, Frank Worthington, and so forth. This is of no matter. Even were half our team to take to the field on crutches, we would still carry the day, for if one thing remains forever uninjured it is our spunk. Indeed, for the opening match against the Hebrews, I suggest that the chant go up around Wembley Stadium; “Come Away England, Put Them In A Funk/The Jews Shall Drown In English Spunk!”
As for the Communists, I predict a veritable Charge of the Light Brigade through their back four but with few, if any blunders, not least from our own Mr Paul Robinson, filling those capacious yellow shorts as only he can. Indeed, may I suggest that for both matches, a projector broadcast the action as it happens using Mr Robinson’s hindquarters as a screen, for the benefit of English supporters behind the goal? For I doubt that he will be employed in any other way in either fixture. John Terry, meanwhile. shall be riding high in the saddle leading his men, purple, engorged, erect, pumping, throbbing, exhorting, groaning . . . Seppings! The bucket!”
We at Twohundredpercent are very grateful for The Wing Commander giving us his time and analytical skill. To read more, please visit his web archive of match reports here.