The following is based on a true story relating the events of the Vagabonds to attempt the biggest bank job since Oceans eleven, twelve or thirteen. The main protagonists have been renamed. Most are in hiding as we don’t want to compromise their current precarious existence.
YCAC was the venue and given the alarming dropdown of YCAC first team players, this jolly ocean view location was the TML equivalent of Fort Knox. But the knoxy (as it is known in colloquial Georgian) had been breached in the past and could be done so again. To this end the Vags had assembled a diverse and motley crew of strong men, technical wizards, numbers guys, curry house connoisseurs, tricky ball players, and S&M wild boys. Tension was crackling in the echoing pre match talk and the key was obviously to get these boys functioning as a unit and to concentrate on getting past the formidable security that faced them.
All had been working on their faux personalities and disguises. The potential lynchpin in the operation turned up as a tremendously convincing escapee from an albino conclave. The idea was to enable him to get inside their half and innocuously probe a bit without causing any suspicions. This was duly accomplished and the info was passed onto Man City in right midfield that he might get some joy. A few probes found out that the alarms were solid enough all the same and so plan B was to let Quality Scottish Soup and Sticky sneak in through the left wing fire escape instead. Sticky slipped the lock and broke into the back stairwell before smacking a cross off a hapless security guard and into the back of the net. The guard was bound and strapped and it seemed as though the Vags were in. Unbeknownst though a security camera had picked up the goal/security breach and reinforcements were sent in. The security locked down the holes and struck back with a goal either side of the half and The Crew were back to forewhence they came. Or a bit worse actually. 2-1 down.
Back to the drawing board which was cunningly hidden under the kiddies slide – facing the other way offered new tunnels, channels and back passages so Rabbitboy would have wished he was there. Irish Coffee who had a very good start and second half for the Vags controlled and pushed forward before lobbing a stick of dynamite onto Fat Boy Slim’s head and 2-2 it was. The alarm system was f###ed and there seemed to be a way in yet again.
The Crew pushed a bit – Sticky half chance spiralled wide, but the boys in blue had the upper hand given their superior resources. Irish Coffee was unfortunate to give away the 184th hand ball offence inside the area this season and the penalty was dispatched. Another push followed and Chicken Tikka Masala was hauled away for dissent as the ref did a John Wayne pose just to make sure he didn’t say ‘bum’ and then get his first red ever. The fame that it would beget was ever so tempting for our True Grit wannabe but this couldn’t fit into this movie. Westerns are what you want mate, not bank jobs or, good lord, football matches.
The Cat should be given a mention for simple defiance when we knew the job was doomed (a fourth had already gone in) – out in front saying ‘come on then let’s ‘ave it’ and then parrying over the bar. A forlorn act all the same and he was banged away for 8 big ones.
Everybody else scarpered though and, London Bobbies notwithstanding, will resurface for a brief raid on a Fukuda Denshi ‘Flying Garden’ family restaurant next Sunday.
And for Chicken Tikka Masala – a fishing theme – had a bad date and it ruined my suzuki catching trip the next day – ‘Chicky pain marred bass’.
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