Thanks to football, the word ‘banter’ has been misappropriated by gits and ruined forever. It is now filed shamefully away in the twat drawer along with others, such as ‘legend’, ‘random’ and ‘genius’. Others have commented on this linguistic blight on modern society, but such an unfortunate malaise requires further attention, so I’m afraid it’s all hands to the pump (EH, LADS!? PENIS BANTER! WKD SIDE!).
Using a time machine built out of old copies of Nuts magazine, Burton’s t-shirts, and a barrel full of the congealed sperm of THE LADS, Ruud Gullit Sitting On A Shed will reimagine iconic footballing moments of yore, accurately reinterpreting them through the boobs-shaped prism of this modern disease.
Today, we take you back to July 11th 2010, and the World Cup final between Spain and Holland in Johannesburg.
After 116 minutes of play, Spain’s intricate passing game has failed to find a way through the stubborn reluctance of Holland’s attritional warfare. A victory for the reigning European champions would surely be universally embraced as a victory for the beautiful game. And so it is that Barcelona’s Andrés Iniesta, so often the unsung hero for club and country, breaches the Dutch defence for the first time, securing the triumph that everyone wants to see with a deft finish. As ecstatic Spanish screams envelop the ubiquitous sound of vuvuzelas, Iniesta sprints away in celebration, trying to outrun time itself to prolong this, the greatest single achievement possible in the sport, and as this begins to sink in, he removes his shirt in an orgiastic frenzy of bloke sloganeering, and an iconic moment is destroyed by the debasing pursuit of banter…