Game 9, season 35. The glory hole of the vanquished spirit

A low slung Wellington day, full of piss and wind. A filthy pitch. Altogether a bit like your wife's EL James collection - Grey with more than a hint of sadomasochism about it. Lots of binding tape and other paraphernalia, mostly in Marky's bag. Sceatsy's got new "studs" bought at 11am from the peaches and cream of sport - Rebel. He'll need them, we'll all "need" them. There are dogs. They add to the Grey atmosphere. Fish barely escapes an unseemly episode with a dog, on the pitch.

Kick off. Wests are porous at the back, we cut through them - clamp on nipple, but we can't finish. JB and The Jackal battle forcefully - at times unlucky, wishing they were strung up in someone's basement dungeon instead of spending an afternoon of anguish, pain and suffering with no release.

We are tight at the back, the fearsome foursome of Doc, Nintendo, Mike and Hansie, keeping Wests aging wrinkled strikers at bay. When they do finally bust through its a pair of assless chaps in Studio 54  - a mess. They've missed an open goal.  Gyles is strong -keeps them weeping for mercy.

Marky dances in the midfield, the dance of the damned, his mind on his bag, and paraphernalia. SoG and Ross do good things using their head. Ross puts them to THE test and nearly scores. SoG slogs it out up the guts. Keeping them in the mud.
Tiberius is walking around, thankfully on the sideline, thinking about what's in Marky's bag.

Chromosome is full of running and Grey dreams and as such is "used" in 3 different positions. He slips the handcuffs and has his revenge, almost. Despite being used he is never owned. Sceatsy and Fish flirt with their fat backs, teasing them down the sideline, cutting through - showing no mercy - leather on flesh. We miss and miss again. The dog incident occurs -Fish says it's a misunderstanding. Zel blows the whistle for halftime. Bombers 25 - Wests 5. Shots of pain that is.

Ross replaces Gyles who has been tortured on the rack of his own genius and done a groin. Gyles advice "put the round thing in the big hole". Sound. Marky checks his bag.

The second half starts like a Nazi electric shock experiment, a lot of zip, bang and some burnt flesh.  We get a penalty - "hand in the box" - always a recipe for  some kind of trouble if the lines are blurred - wrong hand, wrong box... Tiberius - you take it. No - Tiberius is still thinking about Marky's bag. Mike steps up. Bravely. Like a cattle prod in the lounge on Sunday -its slightly over the top.

They stream down the field and score senselessly. One actual goal. Defence unlucky. Nothing Ross could do about it. Group self-flagellation.

We keep hunting them - here piggy piggy piggy. The Jackal and JB  take them on again and again thrusting in behind them - into their box - its loose. With a  lot of opportunity. JB screams and groans. One more inch - one more centimetre even and he'd be in the pleasuredome that is a goal.

Zel and Hansie feed "the Left". Stasiland all over again. More basement dungeons. More whispered secrets. No goals. Doc, Sceatsy, Chromosome, and the Jackal feed "the Right". Leather, jackboots. More basement dungeons. More whispered secrets. No goals. Nintendo and Mike - "the Centrists"  in a sloppy slithering defence area - keeping them out.

They stream down the field and score senselessly - off a corner. Two actual goals. Defence unlucky. Nothing Ross could do about it. Group self-flagellation.

SoG ups his workrate further, chasing wind, tackling, furious in his intensity. Thinking about the wasted self-flagellation which should be saved for Church or church like facilities (a basement dungeon..). He runs out of wind, Chromosome (used but never owned)replaces him. Sceatsy surges, JB thrusts, The Jackal mounts, Zel presses, Fish chases -dog issue sorted-his mind back on the job. No goals.

Suddenly, a crack like a whip in Singapore from the central defenders, a slippery pass, Mike - maybe Nintendo hits the midfield, teasing the fat backs again, toying with them in the man soup of Anderson park, a loose pass to the left. The Jackal slams it in the hole. A  sleek, well managed finish that Christian Grey would swap his helicopter for. One actual goal. SoG pleased for no more self-flagellation.

One last corner. No goal. West 2 Bombers 1.

Marky picks up his bag. Smiling.