And if you’ve just tuned in it’s ‘Pieces of Eight’ radio here
with the local derby for which we’ve been waiting so long.
Calling today we have runners up for commentators of the year.
So I now pass you over to the one, no, two and only Frank and John.
Thanks Jim, for that completely unnecessary intro.
Thanks Jim, We’ll see you in the bar again after the show.
We have indeed long awaited this fantastic game.
Science fiction vs fantasy. Football will never seem the same.
In prematch news there’s been changes on the fantasy bench
and I’m not just talking about the new ale serving wench.
Sub-Tolkienesque nine’s been replaced to their supporters’ joy.
Hardly surprising, he’s never been a substitute for the real McCoy.
Before even the off there’s a red card for excessive use of force.
We knew passions would run high today, and it’s of course
the one player who’s just returned from a six match ban it’s
the reason the crowd sings ‘You’re forever blowing up planets’.
Now the whistle blows and science fiction has the ball.
The players scatter and SF’s captain makes the call
of which play to make. His consummate planning is legendary.
He’s fit, skillful and good looking but that is all secondary.
Yes John but now the play is just falling apart.
The team just can’t realise the captain’s art.
His IQ may be enough to fill his opponents with dread
but what with all the jargon no one understood a word that he said.
Picked up by fantasy’s wizard player who is in fact a mage.
He’s a regular player of the match despite his venerable age.
His hearing’s going, he mumbles and his eyesight is dim
but nonetheless they may be pinning their hopes on him.
The dalek’s attempt to exterminate his run comes to naught.
It turns out the ball wasn’t quite where it thought.
Past one player, two players, three players, and more.
He crosses. The hydra heads it and heads it and heads it to score.
One-nil to fantasy’s flexibility. Science fiction kicks off again.
Can fantasy exploit the fact that they’ve only ten men?
It seems so. Before Robbie can pass he’s tackled by the troll.
Now Robbie’s recumbent while the troll heads for goal.
It’s a one man run. He’s just mowing down the opposition.
And he scores. Stopping this player was an impossible mission.
Once again it’s SF to kick off. They need to make a better attempt
as at the moment the fantasy team just views them with contempt.
It’s Robbie again but closing is a unicorn on the warpath.
It tries to run him through, breaks its horn, is sent off for an early bath.
The fantasy team isn’t happy. There’ll be trouble I reckon.
Yep here we go. Troll, dwarf, elf and half the team draw a weapon.
But the referee walks through the storm with his head held high.
He’s not afraid and flashes his red card as he passes by.
So as we go into half time the fantasy team’s tendency to wield
its weapons means there’s scarcely a fantasy player left on the field.
Well Frank, I think you’d agree, what an exciting first half.
Do you think this will be fantasy’s or science fiction’s epitaph?
SF clearly lacks fantasy’s flexibility despite their renown.
This is what’s led to them being a couple of goals down.
But I feel too many of fantasy have taken the easy way
which is why they’ve fewer heavyweights remaining in play.
Yes, I don’t think science fiction has yet been hung out to dry.
There’s another half yet and their captain’s an enterprising guy.
But it’s a far cry from small broodlings in the hydroponics bays
with recycling units for goal posts in those left behind days.
That, presumably John, was before you began to blither.
Snap out of it man, once again the teams are coming hither.
Now the players are emerging again to take up their positions
and it looks as if SF has reorganised to help fulfil its ambitions.
The monolith has been given an obvious change of role.
Given its size it’s not difficult for it to guard the goal.
Fantasy kicks off, Robbie tackles and passes it to Filby,
who passes to Edouard, the italian player who will be
my favourite, at least, to help science fiction make a score.
Fantasy may have wanted a fight, what they have though is a war.
But no, he knocks it back to a team mate coming up fast
It’s Micromegas, he’s a big guy, he’ll have the stamina to last
for a solo run. No! Again they’ve clearly decided on a passing game.
Micromegas kicks it forward to Cartesius who’s known for his aim.
Cartesius makes a run down the wing, the defense is a bit slack.
Crosses it to de Cuigy who finishes to draw one goal back.
Fantasy kicks off. They’re under pressure for the the first time today.
They’ve few men left but still in the lead as the minutes tick away.
SF encloses the man with the ball when all of a sudden
the wizard cancels his invisibility and he’s out in the open.
The ball is passed to the wizard who starts another solo run.
There’s fans, dressed as players, who think the game’s already won.
The wizard shoots but of course the ball simply bounces off to a drone
and as the seconds tick away the result is down to this player alone.
It’s the last few moments but what’s this? The drone displaces the ball
into the net, as the ref raises his whistle, and the score is two-all.
And there goes the final whistle. Normally there’d be injury time to play
but with the number of casualties here we just haven’t got all day.
Once again the science fiction vs fantasy match results in a draw
and as the the players leave the field the crowd screams for more.
A vast diversity of styles made both sides equally strong
so I’d say the fans have been the winners all along.