AT PIE MANSIONS...

I've been reading the back pages of the local newspaper, Vetch.

Indeed, sir.

Yes indeed, Vetch. Imagine my surprise when, glancing at the Championship league table, I notice that the Nottingham Foresters are second. Second, Vetch.

Indeed they are, sir.

Don't you indeed they are sir me, sir. Is this some kind of joke?

Indeed it is no joke, sir. Forest are in second place, on the same points as the leaders.

But how can this be, Vetch? The Foresters are by all reports a mid-table team at best. And after yesterday's defeat to Bentfor'd, why...

Excuse me, sir, but Forest did not lose to Bentfor'd. Forest won, one nil.

That cannot be, Vetch. I read somewhere that Bentfor'd were the Barcelona of the Championship.

That is indeed how they like to think of themselves sir, but the sad truth is they are essentially a five-a-side carpet slipper team, with a few Vikings thrown in for heavier going. Forest simply strangled the swagger out of them and drowned it in a bucket.

Like you did with Clarabel's kittens, eh Vetch?

That was merely downstairs gossip, sir.

You could have kept one, Vetch.

As I was saying, sir, we strangled their swagger and stabbed them to death with a spectacular goal. We fully deserved the three points and fully deserved to go second.

If you say so, Vetch. And who scored this spectacular goal, as you call it?

Ben Watson, sir.

Not Ben "Heather" Watson the ineffective tennis player?

No sir. Ben Watson.

Not Ben "Emma" Watson star of Harry Potter and various pornographic videos?

No sir. Ben Watson.

Not Ben "Bubba" Watson the fat left-handed American golfer?

No sir. Ben Watson.

Not American molecular biologist Ben "James D." Watson who half invented DNA?

No sir. Ben Watson.

Not Detective Inspector Ben "Reginald" Watson who questioned us about the mysterious diappearance of Doctor Sock?

No sir. Ben Watson.

Not Ben "Ben" Watson, who scored Wigan's injury time winner in the FA Cup final against Manchester City?

That's the one sir.

Good God, that was years ago, when you could buy a Mars Bar for a used bus ticket.

It was, sir, but under the present regime at Forest, Ben Watson has undergone a quite remarkable rennaissance, becoming an indispensable member of the team, and a provider of important goals. Yesterday, for example, Joe Lolley's corner reached Joe Worrall, who cushioned a header down to Ben Watson. Watson angled his body laterally and smashed the ball into the Bentford net. It was a thing of brutal class, sir.

And that was it, was it?

More or less, sir. It was an entertaining game with few chances, but Forest were the better team.

And who's the Foresters' manager these days, did you say?

Sabri Lamouchi.

Not Sabri "Picopin" Lamouchi the roof strangler of Montmartre?

Er ... yes, probably.

Good God. The days we live in, eh Vetch?

Indeed, sir.

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