On the deck of HMS Pisstheleague Ist mate: Cap’n, I don’t like the look of the weather up ahead. Looks like we’re headin’ into a storm an’ a pretty nasty one too. Captain: You worry too much, Number One. You’ve seen as many storms as I have and yet you are still here to tell the tale. We’ll be dancing, and not the hornpipe, with our new dancemaster. 1st Mate: It’s not me that I’m worried ‘bout, Cap’n. It’s the crew. There’s some that can’t take a bit o’ rough weather, or a bit o’ rough, come to that. They’re soft. They’ve never been done in the depths - the troughs between waves higher than a Premier bum’s wage packet, For the likes o’ you and me – we’ve seen it all. We’ve seen the good times and the bad, the ups and downs. You – You’n even seen Myfanwy Craddock with her teeth in, or was that May Hill? Captain: How can we bring the crew together Number One? With this storm brewing. There will be some with soaking hammocks by Saturday. Those that have been with Myfanwy will be happy until they need a cure for the clapping. They will all hang about in Singleton Park and be sent to that Singleton Hospital by the University. Is there light at the end of the tunnel? 1st Mate: Cap’n! You’re mixing your metaphors and it isn’t becoming for a gen’leman of your status, or stature for that matter. If there is light it is flood light and the wet ‘ammock lads will be in tears. If I may be so bold, take the liberty, so’s to speak. That will ‘elp with the ‘ammocks, but to do that we need to take ‘er up Bristol Channel. Why they can’t say cleavage is beyond me but you’ll know – you bein’ a gen’leman Captain: I’ll bet you a copper quarter to a silver dollar that we will find a way up the channel Number One. Whether it’s the right channel I don’t know but we don’t want to end up in Cardiff. The locals are good at closing channels. That’s where trouble lies. Find an open channel then a port for Sema, Number One. Remember, Port Out Starboard home. Shame we haven’t a Porter when in port. We need one of them. A good Porter directs everything. He doesn’t go swanning about sideways. He leads and everyone else follows. The midships of this good vessel is not performing. We need a Porter. We must also learn to count in a base that is beyond binary, particularly when we sail away. We need a maths teacher, Number One. If we can have a number two and a number three on board, so can the lads be taught to count beyond one. It is too much to expect them to score either once or ten times. That is why we need education. We don’t want bits, we want bytes or, at the very least, nibbles. We’ve only had one nibble all season. 1st Mate: Sounds like you want to go to the pub, Cap’n, so you can have a porter and a nibble or a byte. The pubs are shut, sir. Captain: I will ignore that, Number One. Until recently the Swanees only indulged in binary scoring but now they have moved on to trinary. They have not scored more than two and neither have their opponents. But only once have their opponents taken the Liberty by doing that. We are stuck in binary. It is a worry. Have you ever been to West Yorkshire, Number One? We could learn a thing or two from those folk on the Pennines. Not much use on a ship usually, but they came this way and the locals didn’t like it. It takes a long time to paddle from Huddersfield down here then bugger off home again with three points but they are the only ones to do it so far. Let the crew know that. There is no disgrace in letting the locals keep a point. However, we don’t want to marry the bastards. One plus one should not mean one with us. They can be one with themselves for all eternity, for all I care. Doesn’t feel good to share when you are slopping about in your sodden hammock. 1st Mate: I see what you mean about binary scoring sir but it’s the birds that get to me, especially when they ‘ang one round your neck. The albatross and one in three. Wish we could get one in three but we don’t get three chances on target. Not when we are away. Even at ‘ome bluebirds are a problem but away! Away it is always the white ones. Captain: You mean seagulls? 1st Mate: No Cap’n. Seagulls are too high for us at the moment. But this good ship will get us nearer to them. It’s the other birds. There are too many of them. Those swans will break your arm as soon as look at you. Get them by the sea and you’ve got trouble. They make us sail all this way, up someone's cleavage and then they don’t let most of us in. There are also those birds they keep down mines, or they should. Don’t do that now. Now they let them **** on everyone. Scrub the bloody deck all day long cleaning up after them. I wish I had a shot gun. Bloody birds. They make me vetch. Captain: You know that a vetch is type of legume, Number One? Can you imagine spending your life on a bean patch. No wonder when those swannee whistlers over there escaped from their communal farting they called it liberty. 1st Mate: Do we have beans on this ship? Does anyone eat ‘em? Captain: There are rumours, Number One. Some on this ship eat them. They are known as "has beans”. Unfortunately we can’t get rid of them. They are contracted to this ship and no one else will have them. There are another bunch who are called the “never has beans.” We can’t get rid of them, either. 1st mate: Are you saying that we want to get rid of the “has beans” and the “never has beans”? Won’t that leave us rather short, Cap’n? Captain: No, my lad. There is a third group who are undecided. We don’t know if they will become “has beans” or “never has beans”. Some even want their beans elsewhere – they are the “Bean and hope to be gone” group. When we land we may be meeting a real “bean and gone” by the name of George Byers. We shall see. Then there are the “bean and gone but may come back” provided that this ship doesn’t flounder. On top of that there are rumours that the “never has beans” are splitting. There will be one group called the “great future behind them, but never bean” and another group called the “never bean so lucky to get on this gravy train”. 1st Mate: Gravy with beans? That doesn’t sound good, Cap’n. Captain: True, Number One. They leave others to do their marketing. They are too crap to do it like they are at anything else. 1st Mate: Like the birds, Cap’n? Captain: No! Not like the birds. The birds aren’t crap. They do the crap and they try to do it on us. Fortunately the last bunch of birds didn’t manage it but there was a pile of hornet crap in front of their goal. There may have been a change, Number One. It is good to see something in front of the opposition goal, even if it is crap. 1st Mate: Is there no one in the crew who can deal with this, Cap’n? Captain: There is, Number One, but they have been pulled backwards and sideways like crabs, hence the appeal of Myfanwy Craddock. Maybe, just maybe, we may have got rid of the crabs. You’ll need to check the hull. Then there are the support crew. They are split like 2-ply toilet paper that has been used on one side or like trousers suffering from extraordinary fullness, and some are quite rebellious. Get that sorted Number One. I am captain of this good ship. I don’t want splits now that we are approaching our destination in the face of a storm. It is going to be difficult. Those royal owned mute swans are waiting for us and you remember what the Royals did to us. If we have to fart our way to victory we must do it. 1st Mate: That won’t satisfy many of the support crew, sir. They want victory, or even defeat, with honour. Farting isn’t good enough for them. In any case the swanee whistlers are better farters than us. They can whistle "Men of Harlech" in farts. They’ve had years of practice. Captain: Tell me about the Swans, Number One. Is it true that they only sing when they’re dying, sing when they’re dying? 1st Mate: In many ways they are like us, Sir. We rose together through the ranks. They fell further and faster than us. They left the field of beans in 2005 finding Liberty, although Liberty tied to another bloody flock of birds: Ospreys this time. Liberty used to be called White Rock because of all the birds shitting on it. Freedom of movement, they called it. They then rose faster than us then descended before us. If it has happened to them it will happen to us, which means that we will be made a city one of these days. Captain: Magnificent. The City of the Vic 1st Mate (continuing): There are other links, too, sir. Some I am too afeared to mention, like the one who displayed integrity both with us and with them. There are others, some that we miss. Here is a list: Paul Atkinson, Ben Wilmott, Nigel Gibbs, Kenny Jackett, Mr. Integrity, George Byers, Gary Chivers, Gary Fiskin, Scott Fitzgerald, Jimmy Gilligan, Danny Graham, Dixie Hale, Dean Holdsworth, Bryn Jones, George Kirby, Des Lyttle, Josh McEachran, Pat Morrisey, Neil Price, Tamas Priskin, Dai Thomas, Colin West, Alan Williams. Captain: The past is a dead heron, Number One, but, oh how Dixie Hales would put the fear of god up them. Whilst there has only been one time either their lot or our glorious lads have won by more than one goal since 2008, we cannot say that the same will happen this time. 1st Mate: Neither side will win by more than one goal. There you go Cap’n. I have said it. You are wrong. Captain: Are you being insubordinate Number One? You realise that you could walk the plank for that. 1st Mate: I walked the plank when I was a lad, sir. We couldn’t afford a dog. Captain: They have won more than us. Number One. Bad puns will not help rectify that injustice. We need our best lads out there today. We need to give it to them. We need to revenge Leda. We need to revenge the 2017 lads - two strikes against in the last 5 minutes. We need to attack. Now is the time. They have scored more than one goal four times in a game since October. Two of those were against Barsnley and Steptoe. The other two were against Bedfordshire madmen and Cardiff, so we will forgive them that. What we will not forgive them for is the following crime against humanity. Getting old ladies to sing that they can’t get enough is, is … words fail me: You can unblock your ears now, Number One. What are the whistlers like now? 1st Mate: Well, Jordan’s brother, Andre, is their chief marksman but Lowe, behold, has a goal a game lately. They, like their team, are frustrated roadies – one, two, one, two, or in the vernacular, un, dau, un, dau. Andre, their one not ours, and Jamal need watching. Jamal comes from ’Arrow and used to play for Boreham Wood, Barnet (‘is is peculiar). Snalbans, ‘Emel and ‘Ichin. They were lucky against the Steptoes but still won sero, un, dau. Bloody trinary. They can’t count to tri. If we get tri, I mean three, we will win, but we have only got four away all season. They’ve scored more and conceded less than us. Captain: Fewer, Number One. 1st Mate: They are at liberty with Reading on Wednesday. Who knows what that will bring? Captain: Right. This is the plan. We will make landfall on the beach by the University. Students won’t care. Most of them won’t be there. They will be taking disease home to their old folk. Then we will go past the student smoking area If the men see any women like this they are to avoid them. Do not accept the tea. If you see the Guinness clock it is a sure sign that you have had the tea – or you’ve been to the student smoking area. The clock has been demolished. On the way to Copper Quarter there is bugger all to see, but once there the locals believe you will find Liberty but not fraternity or egalité. That is fine. We don’t want fraternity or equality. We want to dominate like the Normans did in 1081. By 1545 I want them crying, Number One, and by 1645 I want them streaming to their valleys green with envy and infections caused by hornet stings. I want the wail of the swanee’s whistling in the hills. 1st Mate: Do you see that happening, Cap’n? Captain: No. Now listen. There is a ruin in Swansea, Number One. It is a castle. Anyone who suggests that there is a ruin called a Deeney will be dealt with. They will be forced to share their sodden hammock with Deeney, and possibly the tea drinking ladies pictured above. I will not have insubordination on this ship. Similarly the wave of rubbish that can be found in the city centre is NOT our forward line. They look to the stars in Swansea, which means that they look to us! Is that clear Number One? But, and this is important, be careful. Their supporters are dangerous. Catherine Zeta-Jones has to be caged in the museum, and then there is the Swansea Devil. In May it may look like a darling bud but in January it looks like a lifeless stick. Those storm clouds are getting darker, Number One. The lights are going out. We can do this, but we probably won’t. That is not the point. We want passion. We want movement. We will not be tossed about on a sea of troubles, vacant like the Swansea Devil or a crewman tossed overboard, hollow after the fish have got to him. We have had a hard time of it lately but we got away with it without being impaled. Some of the crew are missing. That is okay unless they are on the pitch. Some of them I wish were missing We are HMS Pissdownyourleg. Tell the men to prepare. Tell the support crew to forget their hammocks and their clap. We are going in!