Richard Addison 1st - Season   Steve Henshaw 2nd - Season   Daniel Cummings 6th - Season

7 July 2009 - King's Sports Centre, Grand Cayman, Cayman Islands
Following last weeks reports, the Authorities decided that the EB was no longer fit to be in public so it was sectioned under the Mental Health Act and is now residing in a secure facility just outside of Crowthorne in Berkshire. It's not too bad, other guests are keeping it entertained with tales of hammers and prostitutes so it's just like a usual night out. Or in.

Despite the facilities and the beautiful views, the EB was getting a little down at the thought of not being there again to see its beloved Old Boys in action, but was comforted by the fact that since Bronson had wrecked the TV room, all the padded cells now had satellite TV beamed directly. So it was with excitement that the EB sat down with a cup of tea, Yorkshire naturally, and turned to Setanta to watch the action.

It was exciting at first, watching the blackness, the deep dark blackness, the despair, the pit of no return, and then the nurses gave the EB an injection to make it happy. With a clearer mind, realising that the Setanta business plan was flawed from the outset and there was no likelihood of those chancers ever getting live sport again, the EB remembered that Kings had promised to stream live on the internet one game a week. And with this game being an eagerly anticipated clash between two favourites in the league, the EB was confident that he would watch the match from its internet enabled PSP. Smuggled in in exchange for 20 B&H naturally. How wrong it was. Nothing. Several frantic phone calls later asking why the promises had been broken and the phone card was used up. Instead, the EB had to rely on rumour, innuendo and word of mouth in reporting on what promised to be a fine game of football and a stern test of the OBs unbeaten run. That and a complicated system of semaphore, cigarettes and favours in the shower block, all just to get the report written. Such unrivalled dedication not seen since.

When the team news came through, the odds appeared unfavourable; out went superman Gaffing with a se x related injury, out went goal scoring Adonis Blenkinsop with unauthorised travel plans, out too were goal scorers Ludford-Thomas and Comins to add to the perpetually out Gardner. However, in came Addison, for his OB debut, and it was likely to be a tough baptism for the youngest and newest member of the OB roster, and in came Henshaw, spent from his anniversary dinner. In the past the OBs have thrived against opposition like McAlpine and expected a tough encounter. As is the form, they also expected far from satisfactory refereeing and decisions that go against. But, in the Thistle Construction black kit, the OBs are feeling pretty indestructible.

According to Mental Harold on B Wing the first goal was scored by a header after five minutes. He was beaten soundly with soap in a sock for suggesting such foolishness until it was confirmed by the kitchen staff that indeed it was a header. Sorry Harold, I will send grapes to the hospital. Apparently, after five minutes, Cummings, new to the concept of an assist, took a free kick that he swept gracefully to the debutant Addison. Needing no additional pressure and already seeing the headlines of this momentous occasion, Addison stooped and bulleted the ball into the top left hand corner. An excellent start and well worth those broken ribs Harold. A fate that pretty much befell Shakespeare who was taken out, shortly after, gangland style, by their centre half who was lucky not to be joining the EB in here for a stretch. With the screws, sorry those gentlemen officers who are fantastic guardians of safety and morality, alert to the potential of a gambling ring, especially after the disappearance of Cross last week, security was stepped up. Which was unfortunate for Psychedelic Dave, the chosen messenger for the next part of the game. It had been agreed, in typical staged fashion, that should the OBs score next, he was to shout "The man from Del Monte, he says yes." However, in the event of a McAlpine equaliser, he was to have a pineapple stuffed up his ar se and made to dance in the games room. And so after fifteen minutes those present witnessed something special, it brought a tear to more than one bitter and hardened eye, the pineapple dance. Who would have thought it, a whole pineapple? Big "Shirley" helped clean him up afterwards though so he was happy. A fair finish by all accounts, inside the box, or so Shirley said.

Five minutes before the break, Quiet Slash went berserk. He'd been gutted to draw Henshaw in the pool for first goal scorer; lazy, unreliable and prone to moving slower than a condom full of coke through the intestines, he had lost his coveted first in the shower slot when Addison scored. To add to his misery, his wife had just sent him a coded message in a baked Alaska that Henshaw had put the OBs 2-1 up with a fine first time volley from the edge of the box in to the bottom left hand corner direct from the goalkeepers miss-hit clearance. Quiet Slash, so called because of his tendency to keep calm under pressure and not use a knife at all, or sword for that matter, it was never proven, just started to trash everything in sight. Down came his poster of Ursula Andress, ripped up were his Baywatch playing cards, and flushed down the toilet went his cherished Ludford-Thomas graduation pictures. He will regret that later. And thus, the half ended 2-1 to the Old Boys. A tight encounter and a double entrendre worthy of this place.

From the restart, all eyes were on Psychedelic Dave. Rumours had come through that McAlpine were pressing and piling on the pressure and that the OBs were giving away silly fouls and earning needless sin bins. Poor Dave, he literally couldn't sit still having been nominated again to be the messenger of McAlpine success. News then came through that the OBs had conceded two quick goals. This caused some consternation as there was only one more pineapple left and Shirley was wanting to try for two. As Fingers McDoyle was sent to acquire another, or something similar, every one was trying to make sense of it. Surprisingly, good sense prevailed and it was the Governor himself who stepped in. He had uncovered a betting ring run by the Officers who claimed to have the referees on their side and the false rumour was started so that they could start collecting before the real result was known. This was of course great news to the EB but even better for Dave. Fingers had just returned with a Tiffany art deco lampshade "that looked like a pineapple" which he had recently borrowed from the Governors office. Such blatant attempts by the guards to make money would help to explain the refereeing decisions, that even Innocent Malcolm ("the Mad Axe Murderer from Morecombe, found in bed with a bloody axe, several severed heads and a video confession done by himself holding his passport to the camera as proof of identity), found to be a severe miscarriage of justice.

With one minute to go, the "girls" on Shirley's wing started to sing "It's raining men", the predetermined song for whenever Cummings scored. They had spent the entire game waiting for this moment in their hastily cobbled together cheerleader outfits and pompoms and were not going to let the mood of the Officers spoil their fun. They had had a long wait as well, because from all accounts, Cummings was far from his prolific best. "Tall, blonde, dark and lean" they clearly couldn't make their minds up, but they clearly didn't care, and would take anyone, or says the writing in the toilet cubicle nearest to the door anyway. Not that the EB has ever been in there. Well maybe once and it was out of curiosity but nothing happened, apart from the pleasing warm drink. The humidity was indeed rising, a reflection of the tempo at Kings, when Cummings slotted past the onrushing keeper to make the game safe. It was of great pleasure to the EB, even more so to Dave who is now a sworn carnivore.

The semaphore suggested that the security provided by the OB defence was greater than this place, obviously not counting One Eyed Simon's epic last year where he tunnelled under the wall but came up in the guard dog compound. After wrestling with seven Alsatians, including chewing the head off one, he finally broke free, only to be run over by the Governors wife who was giving head to the postman in the Range Rover and not concentrating on the road. It was not sure who was driving at the time, but apparently, the postman couldn't contain himself and in some quirk of irony, the Governors wife is now referred to as One Eyed Maureen, she was so ashamed that she didn't get it cleaned, it went septic and eventually she went blind. True. With a locked out defence and a hard working midfield, the OBs had clearly ground out a much deserved win. Much like the EBs hard earned parole. Weather and psychologists reports permitting, the EB will back in situ next week.