Spike's August 2003 Review

Last updated : 30 July 2004 By Dov
Players have come and gone, and already Giving A Sh*t has become my theme for our motley rag-tag bunch of so-called professionals.

What a bunch of bloody wasters.
Anyway, new season signings are often the talk of the town, and this season was no exception. Roddy MacKenzie has arrived to provide goal-keeping back-up, and although eyebrows were raised at this acquisition, he seems reasonably competent.

The woefully slow and inept Jim Lauchlan has just today put pen-to-paper to…erm…’bolster’ the defence, in own unique way. Lauchlan is however like a silver feather touched along the brow of the sleeping Baby Jesus compared to Jamie McAllister, who is astonishly dreadful, and really, given the quality of left-back we at Livi are accustomed to (Deas, Fleming and the magnificent Santini) looks a complete joke.

Midfield sees the enigmatic Whitmore arrive. Much is expected, but I wouldn’t hold my breath. The incredibly hyped but Actually A Bit Sodding Crap So Far John-Paul McGovern is here to bleat on endlessly about his time at Celtic, presumably he’s lodging with DK so they can exchange Parkhead anecdotes over a hot chocolate before snuggling at bed-time. Brian Kerr has arrived to manfully illustrate 2 things. The first is that Scotlands high hopes for the future are, as feared, cr@p at best. The second is that he’s still light years ahead of Burton O’brien. Anyone else wondering why BoBo isnt in the Scotland squad should just watch him during a game.

Derek Lilley may not be the most talented of players, but he seems to be familiar with the concept of putting in a bit of work, so I applaud him half-heartedly. The big news however would be the return of The Chosen One to Almondvale. I may get orgasmic later on, but to tell you how highly I rate the man, if we were showering together, I’d be honoured if he sneaked a peak at my tadger. Can’t say fairer than that.

Of course, as people arrive so must others depart. The much-maligned (unfairly in my view) Xausa is history, and the much-heralded (again unfairly in my view) Barry Wilson is also away to something more suited to his lack of ability. Bye lads.

With pre-season out the way, the usual muppets were predicting Champions League football for Livi next season. Slight problem boys, we’re still crap. A battling draw was had away to a woefully poor Thistle side, and a Motherwell side bereft of any flair, ability or talent (i.e Faddy) were summarily huffed and puffed against until we scraped a 1-0 win. I’m sure Real Madrid are quaking.
Dundee are half-decent, so naturally ran rings about us, as fans bleated on about Cabellero’s supposed diving. “Where is the blood? He’s only bruised and concussed! Never a foul!” said one brain-dead Livi fan. God what a bunch of wretched refuse. Novo manfully ripped jamie McAllister and seemed rather embarrassed about the ease with which he did so. “Sun-stroke” said McAllister, appearing in an Oxford Dictionary today next to the definition of “in-denial-self-deluded-tw@t”. (note – his picture has replaced Cherif Toure Mamans in this years edition)

And so to Celtic where we were humped rotten. I wasn’t there, as I spent the money getting hammered, much like the Livi team.

Anyway, Winners and Losers yadda yadda…



Winners

Never thought I’d say it, but Dominic Keane’s subsidising of Livi fans tickets to Parkhead was a nice (if ill-conceived and generally missing the point) gesture. It also has huge repurcussions…see Losers…
Marvin Andrews is a big winner for staying with Livi at least until January. God hath spoken, and he doesn’t half talk sense.
Livi fans not only are insanely optimistic if they think we have the makings of a good side, they are also due some excitement with the return of The Chosen One. Waa-Hey!



Losers

Livi Fans feature here as well. If any of you ever attend training or read interviews with the players, you realise that we are dishing out hard-earned cash to watch a bunch of (for the most part) pampered, overpaid, over-hyped (possibly not in this column though), self-deluded brats and mercenaries. Reading interview after interview where Burton O’Brien, JP McGovern et al bemoan anyone and everything for their failure to make it big at the top level. “Blackburn had to pay if I made it big,” “Celtic wont gamble on Youth” (in your case JP it isnt a gamble, a gamble has a chance of success) why don’t these little bleating children realise they didn’t make it because they’re not good enough, and they didn’t put in the Fu*king Work necessary? And now they come here and arent prepared to work, because they get everything handed to them and treated like the stars they will NEVER be.

Was that a rant? Yes, and it felt blooody good.

This months other big loser is of course Capitalism. Yep, DK’s subsidising of Celtic will surely start an unprecedented and dangerous chain throughout the world of business. Chairman will subsidise chairman. The workers will revolt, the CEO of Starbucks will be boiled alive in a vat of Skinny, Extra Froth Vanilla and Cinnamon Sprinkled Frapuccino. McDonalds executives will run amok, screaming in high pitched voices, mayonnaise coating their flagellated bodies as they bludgeon one another to death with huge Golden arches.

A glorious blooody frenzy of death and delight awaits anyone in a suit, and standing in the middle of it all, in the eye of the storm will be Dominic Keane, the instigator of Armageddon. Clad only in his favourite green and white-hooped loincloth and carving the face of Karl Marx into his chest, Dominic will become the leader we always craved. The Great Symbol of the American Record Industry capitalist dream, Britney Spears will be found choked to death under DK’s desk, killed mid-blowjob as the mighty rampant phallus of destruction works its insiduous magic. All manufactured, marketed “shifters of units” will be gang-banged into submission by the Songwriters Union, in the world, the wonderful world of Dominic Keane.



I’ve been Spike, you’ve been some fat, balding middle aged man who probably only came here whilst trying to get nudey pictures of Britney Spears because your life is so mundae and depressing that only a cold faceless freeze frame is all you can express emotion or empathy or arousal for.