Our back-page columnist reveals his incredible knowledge of football. And pies. Actually, it is more pies than football, to be honest
Fat Roland, how did you get so good at kickplaying soccer football sport? Thanks for asking, reader.
I suppose it’s my natural athleticism. My thighs are like tree trunks. Big trees, that is, not the saplings I kick over for fun when I’m in my local park stealing ducks. My biceps are oiled and curvy, like a pack of Quavers sucked wetly smooth by a labrador. In school sports, I was put in my own special team that had to stand in a corner. This is because of my many sportsing achievements. The shortest ever long jump. A four-hour mile. Most darts thrown in netball. If ‘The Guinness Book Of Records’ did a school sports edition, there would be a photograph of me on every page, with the words FRAT ROLEND scrawled in crayon underneath. They really should get a proof reader.
My creepy Uncle Bartholematthew took me to footsoccer matches as a kid. He’d roll down his van window and say, “I’ll give you these vinegar bon-bons if you come with me to West Dumplington Rangers versus Forfar Thistle United in the Stockport Hat Museum Juniors Division”. I don’t remember much about those games because, along with discovering footishball, I also found out that the stadiums sold pies. Beef and ale. Cheese and onion. Chicken lips and gristle. I’d chomp down a couple of dozen per game and, if we won, we celebrated down the chippy. Pie and chips. Pie and mushy peas. Pie and pie. Vinegar bon-bons for afters.
The first soccer team I footballed in was with Siouxsie And The Banshees. I was the striker and Siouxsie Sioux was in defence. We put all the Banshees between us. There was John as wingman, then John as half tackle, then John in right guard (anti-perspirant), then John as flank startler (dribbling only). That left John as camel toe and John as aggressive bottom, with John playing VAR (Very Attractive Referee). That left all the other Johns wandering aimlessly on the pitch, squeezing orange segments into their eyes and hanging from the goalposts like bats. I later also formed a football team with New Order, but John (Barnes) wouldn’t shut up. And Stephen Morris and Gillian Gilbert refused to play unless they were tied together like in a three-legged race.
As everyone knows, I went on to win loads of World Cups and Conference Leagues and Penalty Boxes and FA Cups and Cycling Proficiency Tests. I don’t want to go into detail here because I am humble like Muhammad Ali or God. Let’s just say I am so amazingly excellent at footballering, Walkers Crisps have asked me to become spokesRoland for crisps. They’re going to rebrand all of their flavours. Ready Salted will become Ready Fat Rolanded. Cheese and Onion will become Cheese and Onion and Fat Roland. Prawn Cocktail will have all the prawns taken out and replaced with tiny naked Fat Rolands, as pink and fishy as their predecessors. Have I got crisps right? I’m not used to crisps. I only really eat pies.
My soccer success has not gone unnoticed in the electronic music community. Let’s consult ‘The Guinness Book Of British Hit Singles’ and see which musical artists have led the field in footie-techno crossovers inspired by my sporting achievements. Dario G? DJ Ötzi? Jean-Michel Jarre and Apollo 440?! Jeez, it’s like a jukebox has had a stroke. I was hoping Kraftwerk had a track called ‘Euros Endless’ or Pet Shop Boys had done ‘Ballways On My Mind’. Is it too much to ask for Warp Records to sign acts called Boards Of Eric Canadatona or Two Lone Scoredsmen?
And yes, I can think of these brilliant ideas because I am so very good at kicksporting football soccer game matches.
