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Viking Chat => Viking Chat => Topic started by: BillyStubbsTears on November 17, 2018, 06:51:59 pm

Title: Intellectual heckling
Post by: BillyStubbsTears on November 17, 2018, 06:51:59 pm
Late in the game, when Wimbledon's No.40, Wordsworth was substituted and ambled off. Bloke behind me in the South Stand shouted out, "Get off, daffodil!"
Title: Re: Intellectual heckling
Post by: Bentley Bullet on November 17, 2018, 07:02:43 pm
I noticed he wandered lonely as a clown as the crowd took the piss out of him.
Title: Re: Intellectual heckling
Post by: since-1969 on November 17, 2018, 07:03:14 pm
Daffodils are not out this time of year maybe he meant big yellow streak of pish !!
Title: Re: Intellectual heckling
Post by: Colemans Left Hook on November 17, 2018, 07:04:35 pm
Late in the game, when Wimbledon's No.40, Wordsworth was substituted and ambled off. Bloke behind me in the South Stand shouted out, "Get off, daffodil!"

if a player called Keats or Nightingale had been subbed  the same bloke would probably have adapted this

"Away! away! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy, ... "

enough to drive anyone to drink
 :chair:
Title: Re: Intellectual heckling
Post by: CottyRover on November 17, 2018, 11:13:39 pm
 :laugh:
Title: Re: Intellectual heckling
Post by: Bollinger on November 18, 2018, 09:37:57 am
Late in the game, when Wimbledon's No.40, Wordsworth was substituted and ambled off. Bloke behind me in the South Stand shouted out, "Get off, daffodil!"

That might take the prize. Until now my favourite bit of intellectual heckling was as described by Michael Parkinson...

'Most remarkable of all, the comment of a Chesterfield fan standing next to our group when the Chesterfield captain Tommy Capel decided to nominate his brother to take  a penalty which would decide the match. The brother missed by a mile, and as the ball sailed into the Spion Kop the Chesterfield supporter was heard to exclaim "Nepotism, bloody nepotism". Generally speaking the section of the terraces we frequented in those days was, at best, a two syllable neighbourhood. It took until the next home game for assiduous research to reveal what was meant.'