SEASON 2019/20. FEBRUARY 25 2020.


It's cold here. People are dying around me. My phone is frozen to my cheek. Caerdydd have won 9 of their last 10 matches against Forest, but the Forest fans seem noisily ignorant of how awful this could be.

2 mins -- Lolley muscles through some bloke with hair and finds Silva, whose shot is deflected wide. Promising start, except for the wide bit.

3 mins -- Wide again. Sameobi sends one north, only for it to be deflected for another corner, which is again cleared.

6 mins -- Lolley crosses wide.

7 mins -- Sameobi shoots wide. This is getting ridiculous. My phone has skin on it.

8 mins -- Yates gives the ball to Glatzel, who shoots like a man with woollen feet. Glatzel is a funny name, isn't it? Apparently he is descended from a long line of Germans. What do you call a long line of Germans? A queue.

10 mins -- Samba collects Hoilett's cross with the nonchalant air of a man smoking a long pipe.

17 mins -- This is now getting boring. Forest keep fouling people (Glatzel, usually) and Caerdydd keep taking joke free kicks.

18 mins -- Another Caerdydd header gives Samba time to light another pipe before catching it. Samba now has two pipes, which is cool, but Forest need to do something to stem the Caerdydd advance, apart from hacking them.

20 mins -- Grabban shoots wide. "If in doubt, shoot wide" seems to be some kind of default position for Forest.

22 mins -- Sameobi has a shot saved by the Caerdydd keeper, and it seems that Forest have blunted the hosts and are beginning to assert themselves.

45 mins -- Nothing much happens. People begin a mass survival exodus, just as Cash fells Josh Murphy in t' box and the ref ignores Caerdydd's pleas because he's too bloody cold to care. During half time, people electrocute each other for warmth and discuss the possibility of Forest requesting wider goals. After all, it was Forest who introduced shin pads. Somebody says "We can win this" which is very much the same as saying "We can lose this" or "We can draw this" or any combination of events you would feel comfortable discussing, like "What's happened to your cheek?" Semedo replaces Yates for the second half. This upsets some people because Yates hasn't done too badly, Semedo is obviously useless, and the half time beer has frozen the contents of their stomach.

48 mins -- Forest score. FOREST SCORE! Grabban hooks a beauty over to an advancing Silva, who buries it with a cleverly disguised mishit. By the way, this is not the kind of thing you say in the middle of thousands of Forest fans. You simply scream your head off and shout "SILVAAA!" and some semi-coherent rubbish about going up, and feel the heat flood back into your icy parts, at least for a while.

63 mins -- Nothing happens for ages, as if God has paused the action to allow Forest fans time to savour their lead, or the Devil is making us sweat. In other parts of the world, Nob End and Bentfor'd are losing, Forest are third, but you must remember that everything on earth is fleeting and the temperature always drops to absolute zero. Twenty five minutes to go.

66 mins -- The pressure grows, but it's the kind of pressure which, these days, Forest could withstand in their sleep. Semedo has played well, bringing a vibrancy which Yates couldn't match, being from Lincoln.

71 mins -- Murphy and Pack (private investigators) are replaced by Ward and Ralls (leather goods), as Neil Harris attempts to convince everybody that there is nothing wrong with his jaw.

77 mins -- Semedo nearly scores, but doesn't.

80 mins -- Diakhaby replaces Sameobi, who has worked himself almost to death. For Caerdydd, the bloke with hair is replaced by something called a Leandro Bacuna, which is not, apparently, an Argentinian car, as many thought it was.

85 mins -- Glatzel the German almost disturbs Samba with a shot.

89mins -- Caerdydd are reduced to the long throw-in ploy, but it fails. That's about it for Caerdydd and their box of broken tricks. Baby Walker gets five minutes, Grabban crosses beautifully to no-one, Forest win the game. Brilliant, absolutely brilliant. Not brilliant in the sense of being brilliant, you understand. Just a brilliant result from a team which is made of chromium plated steel, which is pretty brilliant.

98 mins -- Oo look, Caerdydd are fighting each other, probably to keep warm. EIEIEIO UTFLWG WWGP TIWWS WAF WAF SIOK!

August 2019

S E A S O N   2 0 1 9 / 2 0 2 0   R E S U L T S

01 02.08.19 FOREST 1 WET BUM 2
02 10.08.19 LEED 1 FOREST 1
03 17.08.19 FOREST 3 BOREMINGHAM 0
04 21.08.19 CHARLESTON 1 FOREST 1
05 24.08.19 COTTAGING 1 FOREST 2
06 31.08.19 FOREST 1 NOB END 1
07 14.09.19 ABERTAWE 0 FOREST 1
08 21.09.19 FOREST 1 BARNSLEH 0
09 27.09.19 STOKES 2 FOREST 3
10 01.10.19 BLACKBum 1 FOREST 1
11 05.10.19 FOREST 1 BENTFOR'D 0
12 20.10.19 WIGAN CAR PARK 1 FOREST 0
13 23.10.19 FOREST 1 UL 2
14 02.11.19 LUTONTON 1 FOREST 2
15 09.11.19 FOREST 1 SHEEP 0
16 23.11.19 BRISTOLS 0 FOREST 0
17 27.11.19 Q P LADIES 0 FOREST 4
18 30.11.19 FOREST 0 CAERDYDD 1
19 06.12.19 MEWO 2 FOREST 2
21 14.12.19 FOREST 0 WENDIES 4
22 21.12.19 UDDER'S FIELD 2 FOREST 1
23 26.12.19 UL 0 FOREST 2
24 29.12.19 FOREST 1 WIGAN CAR PARK 0
25 01.01.20 FOREST 3 BLACKBUm 2
27 20.01.20 FOREST 3 LUTONTON 1
29 28.01.20 BENTFOR'D 0 FOREST 1
30 01.02.20 BOREMINGHAM 2 FOREST 1
31 08.02.20 FOREST 2 LEED 0
32 11.02.20 FOREST 0 CHARLESTON 1
33 15.02.20 WET BUM 2 FOREST 2
34 22.02.20 FOREST 0 QP LADIES 0
35 25.02.20 CAERDYDD 0 FOREST 1

Experts fear Forest's recruitment strategy is out of control


Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day, to the last syllable of recorded time; and all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury signifying nothing.