Geordie Shore cast member to replace Tiger Tim.
FC Vollkontakt 20 Sassco.co.uk 14 | Full match footage shown below. Please feel free to share this on Facebook and Twitter. We also encourage you to LIKE our Sassco.co.uk page on Facebook.
After all the build up, the fifth tour commenced, with nine players signalling their intent to take on Dusseldorf’s finest. Pre-match preparations were as expected, with the team queuing for pasties and pastries at Greggs. We were also put off guard when the cast of Geordie Shore were in the security line behind us. The security chaps were in a quandary because the dippy one had hair rollers in. “You have to ask her to remove her rollers.” said one. “No, you ask her.” said the other. While our expert security checkers were busy drawing lots, they failed to see Mohammed Abdullah, wearing club foot shoes, carrying some Prittstick and a bottle of Fairy liquid, sail through security.
More issues when we landed in Düsseldorf, baking with heat. The fulcrum of the team: the Tapas Terrorist, Tim Gillespie, wasn’t there when we landed. I should have suspected something as me and Dave G received not even a single one of the one hundred and one text messages asking mundane questions. What could have happened? I was waiting for a call from him saying “Dov, why is everyone speaking French, and what does it mean by ‘Paris Airport?'” Yet this wasn’t the biggest disaster of the day, as McConville turned up in the old mid 2000s polo shirt, which was purple and not maroon, like the new ones. Maybe he thought it was too close a shade to his face after a few drinks or minutes in the sun.
- 17/08 12:37 | SMS to Tim: “We’ve Landed.”
Talking of kit, being the austerity tour, Adidas was relegated in favour of Kappa and the track tops were Fruit of the Loom.
We then took a taxi to the hotel, which was located in the business district. It was truly stunning. Rooms were spacious, including separate beds, so no top and tails for Dixon, Ed and Gourlay. Also, the kettle was there: Perfect.
- 17/08 14:33 | SMS to Tim: “We’re going to the game. I’ve got your kit.”
We had more than enough time for the trip to the Cageball Center. We took a taxi, but got there well in advance. We were seeing ghostly images of Tim, either on the side walk, or serving people in shops as we sped by.
First person we saw was Benny Benicke, from the opponents, but we took in the venue, which was excellent. The only problem was the camera position, which was solved by ramming the camera through the net with the tripod on the outside.
McConville disagreed with my starting line up, so I told him in no uncertain terms to sit it out, expecting that Tim would arrive like a knight in shining armour to save the day. Luckily, McConville was persuaded by Ed Cook and Dave Gourlay, thought again and kitted up for the team photo. I texted Tim to say that he’d be on the bench now that McConville was ready.
However, my team line up was looking jaded as we were 3-0 down. And did Tim come along to pull us out of the shit? Of course not. I came off and Matthew Alldis, the poster boy for the tour, a sort of a Mark Muers replacement, stumbled off and around ten minutes later we were 4-3 up. Half time saw a 7-6 lead, including Ed breaking their keepers finger (he denies it), but we were playing 40 minutes each way, which meant the battery in the camera was dying as well as the team. Eventually Vollkontakt came roaring back and took a large lead, which we eventually pegged back for a 20-14 defeat. The camera battery died with five minutes left, but did I panic? Hell no, I simply shoved my hand through the net and filmed the remaining five minutes with a shaky camera phone, which had a battery charger hanging out of the back.
- 17/08 20:31 | SMS to Tim: “Guten Tag, Herr Tigger. Have you been kidnapped?”
- 17/08 20:45 | SMS to Tim: “What do you reckon: Chinese, Italian or McDonalds?”
After the game, we were presented with a bottle and several miniatures and shot glasses of Düsseldorf’s finest, which we never saw again, once Matthew Alldis perked up and took it to his heart.
I also left the flag dangling off the side netting, where I believe it remains to this day.
- 17/08 21:01 | SMS to Tim: “Where are you? We had to cancel the game. Dave’s ill in hospital and luggage has gone missing, the battery died on my camera and everyone’s wearing different colour shirts.”
- 17/08 21:42 | SMS to Tim: “Was that you in one of the boats down river?”
Shit, shower and shave, then down to Alstad, which is the old quarter containing dozens of bars and restaurants. We had a pizza (healthy Ed and his Pasta), but I texted Tim, asking what he wanted so I would pre-order for him. A few drinks later, me and Kev Cooper went back, but left Dixon being chatted up, not by Düsseldorf’s finest fräuleins, but some fella with a dodgy hair cut. Apparently, the rest of the squad got refused entry in a club, because Fancy Dan McConville, never one of the best for his maths, said there were eight of them. Lucky Tim wasn’t there as there’d be fat chance for getting in with nine.
Matty and McConville were persuaded by Alldis for a Jack Daniels night cap, which technically wasn’t a night cap being around 3 or 4 in the morning. A perfect fitting end to an opening day.