hintonsboots

Northampton 1 Derby 3 Barks

You're not in the clique mate.

No Kenneth Williams?

PG Wodehouse from the directors box. Pride Park, that verdant cathedral of sporting prowess, was teeming with eager souls, packed to the very rafters, for this monumental clash of titans vying for the coveted automatic promotion spot. As the erudite young Owen Bradley aptly remarked, one could almost taste the palpable tension hanging thickly in the air, stirring even the most stoic of hearts. Personally, I found myself afflicted with pre-match jitters of such magnitude that I could scarcely bring myself to partake of the morning repast. Indeed, so overcome was I by nerves that I instructed my trusty manservant, Jeeves, to consume it in my stead. The early setback of a hammy for the padel maestro Gayle did little to assuage the anxious throng, yet amidst the tumult, the bobble-hatted Warne, armed with nothing more than his boundless enthusiasm and a penchant for vigorous arm-waving à la Bradley, orchestrated a tactical masterstroke, deftly shuffling his substitute pack like a magician conjuring rabbits from a hat. And lo, it was the wand of Elder that proved the catalyst for glory, delivering a sublime cross to the onrushing buffalo, who, with a flourish of his head , sent the ball soaring into the net with all the grace of a virtuoso pianist striking the final chord of a symphony. Though much of the contest saw the Rams engaged in a valiant rearguard action, the stalwart trio of Cashin, Admirable Nelson, and the Dorian Gray-like Forsyth, aided by the cat-like reflexes of Wildsmith, formed an impenetrable bulwark against the relentless onslaught of their adversaries. With second place now firmly within their grasp, the Rams find themselves masters of their own fate, the jubilant cries of “Ebouuuuuuu” echoing like a chorus of angels as the final whistle heralds their triumph, accompanied by the joyous bounce of victory.

CBT ?

Defence cuts.

The quagmire pitch claims another.

Are you going as Shaun Barker ?

Can’t you put him in the away end ?

Derby 2 Bolton 0 Barks

PG Wodehouse from the directors box. Ah, the evening’s contest at Pride Park unfolded with the gusto of a Shakespearean drama, as the gallant Rams, akin to valiant knights of yore, emerged triumphant amidst a pitch reminiscent of a canvas painted by the mischievous spirit of Brian Clough himself, urging the fire brigade to partake in an impromptu aquatic ballet ere the commencement of play. With Gayle’s finishing akin to the deft stroke of a master calligrapher, guided by a slide rule pass from the erudite Ward, who, one might surmise, holds not only the skills of a footballer but also the acumen of a learned mathematician, perhaps even boasting a degree in Trigonometry! And lo, as Hourihane dispatched the penalty with the finesse of an expert gamekeeper, one could envision him in tweed, calmly dealing with a pheasant in the countryside. Yet, amidst the jubilation, a brief moment of consternation ensued as Bradley, towering as a mighty oak, found himself outwitted by the nimble Smith, prompting a fleeting shadow of doubt. However, the benevolent Referee Breakspear, in an act of contrition for his prior transgression against Plymouth, showered cards upon the field like confetti, and in his wisdom, awarded the penalty that secured victory, leaving the vanquished Reading manager Selles resembling a gentleman who, having imbibed deeply from the cup of life, discovered naught but a lifeless beetle at its dregs. Now, the bobble-hatted Warne stands poised to confront what is heralded as the automatic promotion decider come Saturday, urging his valiant troupe to display their mettle and prove their worth upon the grand stage of sport. Truly, a spectacle of both triumph and tribulation, fit for the annals of sporting lore!

CBT had a hat trick of assists v Reading back in October 👀

Derby 3 Reading 0 Gayle

P.G Wodehouse from the Directors box. Ah, what a splendid affair it was. If ever Pimms were to host a League 1 day, it would assuredly resemble the festivities witnessed amidst the resplendent performance of the Rams. Oh, the gallant display put forth by the chaps, supported by a throng of bouncing enthusiasts whose fervour knew no bounds! Picture it, if you will: The Wardrobe, that bastion of attacking fortitude, held steadfastly in its flat-packed splendour, masterfully overseen by the indomitable trio of Cashin, Nelson, and the towering arm waving Sonny Bradley. And oh, the ecstasy that swept through the air as Gayle, Barkhuizen, and Waghorn graced the pitch with their sublime prowess, each goal a symphony of skill and finesse. Yet, one cannot help but chuckle at the missed opportunity of young Waghorn, whose errant shot surely would have found the net had it been left to my Charleston partner, deftly balancing a cocktail in her hand. Ah, but such is the whimsy of fate! Nevertheless, the Rams ascend once more to the lofty heights of second place, a sight to behold indeed! And let us not forget the jolly good fellow, Warne, bedecked in his bobble hat, whose indomitable spirit endured despite a trying week of illness and the untimely tribulation of Bird and his muscular woes. Verily, it was a day to be remembered, a tonic for the soul amidst the tumult of life’s endeavors.

How are Barnsley doing ?

Chrissy will go down like he’s been hit by the 2.55 from Bristol Temple Meads as soon as Cashin breathes on him.

We should approach Niall Horan and Keiran Lee for some joint sponsorship a sort of double entry.

Rovers 1-3 Derby Gayle

P.G Wodehouse pre match presser, interviewed by Vicky Pollard. Ah, the stage is set for a splendid showdown at the Memorial Ground in Bristol, a city renowned for its towering IKEA emporium, though on Saturday, the concerns of the Rams faithful will be of a different wardrobe altogether. As Rovers perch mid-table, a pall of despondency descends upon the countenance of their manager, Matt Taylor, reminiscent of a gentleman fumbling about with a lighted candle in search of a gas leak – a perilous endeavor indeed. Our bobble-hatted maestro, Warne, ever the optimist, is poised to liken Rovers to the greats of Brazil, whilst harbouring hopes of fielding an unchanged lineup and avoiding being gassed out in the face of the Gas. All eyes will be trained on CBT, eager for a display that truly befits his talent, and young Adams, akin to a bulldog denied a morsel of cake, prowling with determined energy . The prospect of a sold-out away end promises to infuse the atmosphere with a vigour not typically found in these parts, where even a snail’s clearing of its throat can reverberate for miles – though I must confess, I never said nothing about nothing. Jeeves, ever the sage, forecasts a triumphant three points, yet his wistful gaze drifts towards Blackpool, Exeter, Lincoln and Burton with the endless longing of a man hoping that they don't give us no evils.

We need to win so @Rampant can stay on thread for the next fixture.