Verily, this is Warren’s Column. Oh sorry, where are my 12th Manners? It’s King Warren’s Column! My word, I do hope I’m not beheaded for that remark… The Wigan Athletic press conference room, replete with ornate patterned wallpaper and gold plated sandwich trays, is filled with an expectant hum. Suddenly, three trumpeters burst forth from…
Alright, so despite the hammyteur Twitter meteorologists’ predictions, it never did snow in Burton upon Trent today. But on Friday morning, the Met Office (presumably a wild new joint venture of the Metro newspaper and the Post Office) issued ‘yellow warnings’ of ice in Staffordshire. From this we can only assume that the county’s dog…
The football transfer window is the exemplification of Sturgeon’s Law, namely: ‘ninety percent of everything is rubbish’. Except in this case, that remaining ten percent of players wish to spend transfer deadline day suckling a mug of baconated Bovril by the cyan glow of their favourite teletext page. For the sake of claritainment (clarity +…
Please welcome Warren Garton Joyce, Wigan Athletic’s newest and foremost ‘edgelord’. The sort of guy who, like a dog, watches you eat for fifteen minutes before snatching that precious final morsel of tuna casserole from your plate. A man who catches all his perch two minutes before packing up his tackle in a Ryan Giggs…
Happy New Week, Latisticians. Because I’m a poor writer and can’t generate 400 words of original content without resorting to random sentence generation software, here is a selection of New Year’s messages stolen from social networking Internet website trollfacebook.com. At 12:01AM on 1 January 2017, LatikAsthmatic wrote: ”Happy New Ye- hey, why hasn’t Warren signed…
It’s gone, guys. 2016 has just been lost to the greatest monster of all, the omnipotent and most certainly malevolent entity that keeps the Grim Reaper in check: Master Time. There he lurches amidst the dugout’s stony silence, his expressionless face barely cracking through mindless mumbling and guttural grumbling. …But enough about Graham Barrow. And…
Idiot’s guide to human society: shamelessly flog your insufferable crud to people who don’t want it for many more buttons than they can feasibly afford. Idiot’s guide to the football transfer window: shamelessly flog your crud to people who don’t want it for ma- well, you get the picture. Come now! Gird the loins of…
Enjoying your pristine boxed copy of International Superstar FIFA Fever Pitch Striker for the Segabox Supertendo? I thought so – it is, after all, the most sought after computerma-vidja game of Christmas 2016. Allegedly, Lionel Messi queued for ten hours outside his local Poundsavah (Buenos Aires) to get it, fighting off two old ladies and…
Latics v Ipswich was a game that defied all logic. Why the insistence on goal scoring all of a sudden? And why such vitriol towards an unfortunate man that misplaced his contact lenses? Well, I think you know the answer to at least one of those supposedly rhetorical questions. But for everything else, here are…
Welcome, my dear Laticians, to the Margarine Zone. Moments before your freshly buttered slice of lovingly-prepared toast hits the filth-encrusted kitchen floor with a sickening bliff-spludge, you have a very brief opportunity to prevent the seemingly inescapable. If you actually manage to grab the toast, you feel incredible for the rest of the day. You…
Is your team still under-performing? Are you hunting for crusty morsels in the darkest depths of the cockpit they call the relegation zone? Hopelessly toiling for a formation that will scrape you just enough points to try again next year? Then, good sir, you are in dire need of Soccercheats.con’s Championship tips and cheats guide….
Guest intro by George Orwell’s Millennial grandson (AKA me). We’re not supposed to talk about 2014-15. We’re expected to pretend it never existed under threat of extreme consequences. And goodness knows your average small time Internet weblogger would rather be writing about Gary Caldwell’s jumpers and Jordi Gomez’s beard right now. But I really wish…