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  1. #1
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    somtamslap's Avatar
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    Playing Football in Issan

    The temperature has dropped a few degrees over the course of the past week and with this dramatic change comes an immediate adjustment in the chosen attire of the locals. Callously cast aside are ill-fitting t-shirts which invariably boast grammatically defective English scrawl such as ‘Love My Dog’ or ‘Kitty Cat Go Sleep Sleep’ or ‘I Suck Balls for Baht’, in favour of long-sleeved affairs which are generally decorated with cement company logos; companies which probably folded decades ago, but alas, their name still lives on in Issan, the bankrupt businesses being sporadically advertised in amongst the rice paddies. Jeans are donned in preference to shorts, flip-flops exchanged for Wellington boots and sombreros substituted for thickly knitted balaclavas which actually allow very little room for breathing. Even the village hounds have managed to seek the pity of the residents whom are usually so indifferent towards the plight of a mutt, but now spare them a t-shirt (love my dog) or an old vest to protect them from these glacial conditions. After all, it’s only fucking 25 degrees Celsius now; quick, run to Home Pro and buy half a dozen fucking shovels before we get snowed in.

    For me, however, this recent cold snap has initiated a feeling of rejuvenation, a new found energy which allows me to perform basic household tasks without finishing the job at hand looking like a walking waterfall.

    The washing up? No, no, please, let me..

    The grass needs cutting? I’m already putting me wellies on..

    We’re out of eggs and milk? I’m already putting me marigolds on..

    A cup of tea, you say? One lump or two?

    Monthly bout of fornication needs honouring? It would be a pleasure! Shall we say next Tuesday at around 9 ish?

    Since fundamental, workaday chores could now be carried out with minimum irritation, when I was approached at the local shop by an outfit of teenagers who inquired into whether or not I’d like to join them in a game of football, I responded enthusiastically in the positive.

    Yes, yes! Yes, I jolly fucking well would!

    I had visions of myself streaming down the right flank, skipping over a challenge from the opposition’s Yabba fuelled wing-back, offering the ball to an oncoming central defender before deftly chipping it around him and continuing my run onto the by-line where I would dispatch a cross with pin-point accuracy onto the forehead of our team’s centre forward. Yes, I would very much like to join you in a game of football, gentlemen.

    But when we arrived at the pitch, I couldn’t find the right flank or the left flank, or indeed the fucking pitch itself. However, what I thought was an unkempt, fallow section of jungle, turned out to be Issan’s version of Old Trafford. It wasn’t the wing-backs that would be causing hindrance to my shuttle runs along the wing after all, no, it would be ants and snakes and fucking dinosaurs. Still, since I was wearing my brand new Nike Air Flatulence I saw little need for panic and bounded towards the centre of the field where a warm-up of one solitary star jump took place.

    Right then, which way am I shooting? Hang on, what am I shooting at? Is it a case of jumpers for goalposts?

    I scanned the pitch but signs of a pair of uprights and a cross-bar didn’t appear to be forth-coming. I queried one of the chaps about the lack of woodwork:

    ‘I say there, old chap. You seem to have overlooked the pratoo (goal) situation!’

    ‘No’, He replied and pointed in the direction of a metal frame which was no more than three foot square.

    ‘What? Is that it? Who’s going to be the goalkeeper, a fucking ant? There’s no way, even with the use of my brand new Nike Air Flatulence, that I’m going to rocket one through the wall into an opening the size of a fucking toolbox.’

    With no time left to voice my disapproval, the game kicked off and after five minutes I collapsed in a disheveled heap on the floor whilst dry heaving.

    After regrouping, I stole one last accusing glance at the pathetic goalposts and stormed out of the jungle in a huff – and had it been my ball we were playing with, I would’ve taken the fucking thing with me.
    Last edited by somtamslap; 19-10-2011 at 03:07 PM.

  2. #2
    Thailand Expat armstrong's Avatar
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    i play football once a week. if it's a 1pm kick off it's a killer. especially with a bald head...

    within seconds i'm drowning in sweat, it stinging my eyes and soaking my clothes. and then they expect me to fuckin' run after the ball!

  3. #3
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    ^ Where do you play?...

  4. #4
    Thailand Expat armstrong's Avatar
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    BKK Pattana.

  5. #5
    splendid and tremendous
    somtamslap's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by armstrong
    within seconds i'm drowning in sweat, it stinging my eyes and soaking my clothes.
    Not easy to maintain decorum in these conditions.
    Next time I fancy a spot of outdoor recreation I'll head up to my local temple for a game of boule..


  6. #6
    sabaii sabaii
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    Quote Originally Posted by somtamslap
    We’re out of eggs and milk? I’m already putting me marigolds on..
    Don't you get funny looks in Tesco Lotus ?

  7. #7
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    I play twice a week. Game kicks off at 4.30pm. Some days it can be pleasant, other days sheer hell. Normally the second half is better temperature wise than the first. Still get the sweaty stinging eyes though.

    However due to the large amount of rain lately the pitch has turned from a rock hard skin grater to a slightly soft, beginning of September in England type pitch that allows good slide tackling and sometimes the ball doesn't bounce 35 feet into the air.

  8. #8
    splendid and tremendous
    somtamslap's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by sabaii sabaii View Post
    Quote Originally Posted by somtamslap
    We’re out of eggs and milk? I’m already putting me marigolds on..
    Don't you get funny looks in Tesco Lotus ?
    I haven't seen the inside of a Tesco for two score and seven..my current lifestyle doesn't merit a weekly shop thesedays. Just stock up from the shop as and when required and my marigolds tend to go unnoticed due to the haze of LK..

  9. #9
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    Quote Originally Posted by somtamslap View Post
    Quote Originally Posted by sabaii sabaii View Post
    Quote Originally Posted by somtamslap
    We’re out of eggs and milk? I’m already putting me marigolds on..
    Don't you get funny looks in Tesco Lotus ?
    I haven't seen the inside of a Tesco for two score and seven..my current lifestyle doesn't merit a weekly shop thesedays. Just stock up from the shop as and when required and my marigolds tend to go unnoticed due to the haze of LK..
    What sort of milk?
    Please tell me that you don't force this product on your little darlings.....

  10. #10
    splendid and tremendous
    somtamslap's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Rural Surin
    What sort of milk?
    Just run-of-the-mill nom jeud for tea and coffee. My little ones tend to favour the fruit flavoured nom priaw or Yakults to supplement elevenses.

  11. #11
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    So, you milk the cats with these marigolds?


  12. #12
    splendid and tremendous
    somtamslap's Avatar
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    Totally uncalled for, Betsy. How dare you bring felines into a sport related thread..

  13. #13
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    For you non-participators out there, there is a wealth of provincial club football to be had.

  14. #14
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    Has somtam let his real identity slip?

    Lets look at the evidence shall we...

    Quote Originally Posted by somtamslap
    streaming down the right flank
    Quote Originally Posted by somtamslap
    skipping over a challenge
    Quote Originally Posted by somtamslap
    deftly chipping
    Quote Originally Posted by somtamslap
    dispatch a cross with pin-point accuracy
    I shall unmask you...

    Peter "somtamslap" Beardsley


    Black diamonds? I shit 'em.

  15. #15
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    Mr Lick's Avatar
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    That's a bit of a 'slap' in the face mate, being compared to Beardsley.

    Thought our STS was the handsome and debonair sort. Speaks the Queens english also unlike PB.

  16. #16
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    Peter Beardsley=legend! Yeah, I'm a Newcastle fan for my sins but we're smashing it so far this season!

    Anyway, the OP reminds me of my first trip to India when I was about 19/20 and still fighting fit. I visited a beach shack in Goa and the local lads invited me and a couple of mates to a 10 odd-a-side game of beach football. Not used to the sun of Asia, we foolishy agreed and after 15 minutes and having lost about 10 pints of water through sweating, I threw in the towel and collapsed on a deck chair exhausted and half sunstroked.

    And that was at age 19 in rude health, I dread to think what would happen if I attempted that now!

  17. #17
    Gohills flip-flops wearer
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    [quote=Bogon;1910535]Has somtam let his real identity slip?

    Lets look at the evidence shall we...

    Quote Originally Posted by somtamslap
    streaming down the right flank
    Quote Originally Posted by somtamslap
    skipping over a challenge
    Quote Originally Posted by somtamslap
    deftly chipping
    Quote Originally Posted by somtamslap
    dispatch a cross with pin-point accuracy
    I shall unmask you...

    somtam "fat knacker" slap.






    Fixed.

  18. #18
    splendid and tremendous
    somtamslap's Avatar
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    ^ Blimey. He's he an actual player?

    There's still hope for my newfound talent if he is..

    Peter Beardsley incidentally, great player (Mexico '86) but rude little twat (Plough Lane '87).

  19. #19
    CCBW Stumpy's Avatar
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    Som,
    Can you coordinate a deal like this?


  20. #20
    splendid and tremendous
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    I'd certainly give it a go, but I fear I may be waylaid during one of my aggressive sortees to the by-line this time and accidentally find myself shoulders deep in a vagina.

  21. #21
    Gohills flip-flops wearer
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    ^ Take a camera with you this time.

  22. #22
    splendid and tremendous
    somtamslap's Avatar
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    ..and me torch.

  23. #23
    sabaii sabaii
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    He's fat, he's round, he minces round the ground, Somtamslap, Somtamslap



    Quote Originally Posted by somtamslap
    How dare you bring felines into a sport related thread..
    When opening this thread, i kind of assumed a cat would be the football

  24. #24
    sabaii sabaii
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    Top 10 fat footballers

    No10: John Hartson

    Hartson's weight was like a yo-yo during his colourful career. The powerful striker was deadly during his time with West Ham but he struggled to keep the pounds off. The Welshman once told Bobby Gould to "keep his nose out" after the national boss criticised the player for being overweight.



    No9: Tomas Brolin

    Leeds fans thought they were ripped off when Brolin was unveiled as their new star signing. Once a lean, mean goalscoring machine for Sweden, the forward was a right porker by the time he turned up at Elland Road. After failing to shed his excess baggage in Yorkshire, he was also unable to revive his appetite for the game at Crystal Palace.



    No8: Andy Reid

    The Sunderland midfielder has a big belly as well as a lethal left foot. Managers swear that Reid is ultra-fit despite his extra tyre, although the fact that he failed to make the grade at Tottenham questions those views. The portly Irishman is back in the Premier League with the Mackems.



    No7: Neil Ruddock

    Ex-Liverpool and Tottenham defender Razor was not the sharpest with his diet. Beefy Ruddock was once transfer-listed by Swindon for being overweight, where he could not fit into his shorts: "The problem was there were numbers on the shorts and the previous No16 had a waist like Kylie Minogue."



    No6: Neville Southall

    The plump Welshman was never the leanest of stars during his successful career. And by the time the Everton legend was winding down his career at Bradford, the effects of time were clearly evident. Yet, for all the jokes about his ballooning weight, there have been few better keepers than Southall.



    No5: Ferenc Puskas

    The Hungarian legend revealed that Real Madrid signed him despite him politely pointing out that he was 40lb overweight. The forward managed to reach the very top of the game despite possessing a body the same shape as a football. A party animal away from the pitch, the late Puskas would laugh at today's dietary regimes.



    No4: Jan Molby

    The Liverpool midfielder proved a hit at Anfield even with his roly-poly physique. The Denmark star was a regular in the Reds' midfield in the 80s and 90s, and is rightly hailed as a Kop legend, who cherish him for his contribution as much as his huge frame.



    No3: Micky Quinn

    The Coventry striker inspired the chant "He's fat, he's round, he's worth a million pounds — Micky Quinn, Micky Quinn!" The rotund No9 was deadly for the Sky Blues despite being the butt of jokes from fans across the country. Quinn — or Sumo as he was nicknamed — called himself "the fastest player in the world over one yard."



    No2: William Foulke


    Weighing in well at 24st by the end of his career, no wonder Foulke earned the nickname Fatty. The Sheffield United and Chelsea star was a giant at the end of the 19th century and beginning of the next. Foulke, who won the league with the Blades and appeared in three FA Cup finals, was a true hero of the game.



    No1: Ronaldo

    The Brazilian star tops this list because of his achievements in an over-sized body. The double World Cup winner and three-times World Player of the Year has been tipping the scales for years now. Knee injuries have not been kind to the AC Milan striker but neither has his love of food.

  25. #25
    splendid and tremendous
    somtamslap's Avatar
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    Fuck this, I'm off to the NFL where I might get taken a bit more seriously..


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