Well, now then, now then. Let me think…. I can't think of that much to say, really. Except that we had expected to do better, much, much better.
To be knocked out like that, before even reaching the quarter-finals, was a bitter blow. A very bitter blow. The Little-Frigging-In-The-Wold Gleaner had confidently predicted that this year would - once again - be our year. Talk about Thirty years of hurt - this has been much worse.
This year we felt we had such a strong team too:
[Maureen Trouser-Quandary (of course!), Labia Entanglements (The Post Mistress), Fanny Knickerless (The Cake-Shop Manageress), Jenny Moist-Gusset (From the LFITW Riding School)
Miss Lesley Mufflapper (The librarian), Miss Margie Mingefinger (The Assistant Librarian), Old Feebletrousers (retired Badger-Mollifier) and Grand Old Uncle Stagnant (Ex-Cream Horn Wrangler)
Bert Splodge (Local handyman and voyeur), Strom Thighhammer (Blacksmith), Foaming Lickspittle (LFITW Gleaner Editor), Spage Braindribble (World Champion Village Idiot).
Undoubtedly, one of the best Upper-Thyghspreader All-Village Full-Frontal Sexual Perversion squads in the contest, even if I - as coach - say so myself.
Our strong defence was renowned throughout last season's league fixtures for their unequalled record, losing only seventeen points and one - still-disputed- submission for the whole season. As for our forwards, an All-Village record of 397 points, 5 submissions, 2 touchdowns, 83 multiple orgasms and a still totally-bewildered chicken. No mean achievement for an amateur team, I'm sure you'll agree.
So, to go out to Much Piddling in the sixth round - albeit after extra time, cream cakes and penalties, and to an extremely well-placed, and well-lubricated, sexual aid, is all the more galling.
Still, I suppose there is always next season's league and cup to prepare for, and look forward to.