Archive for the 'Dave Ambuscade' Category

Psychic octopus steals underpants

July 1, 2010

At last the true horror of England’s elimination from the World Cup can be revealed in an Ambuscade exclusive.

My sources in the paranormal underground reveal that Paul the ‘psychic’ octopus is in fact a psycho-telekinetic one, with the ability to control minds from a distance. Alleged to be in the pay of Bavarian betting syndicates, his powers are controlled using so called ‘food’. These syndicates have manipulated their tentacled patsy into destablising the England camp and causing embolisms in the Uruguayan officials during the England/Germany match.

I can now reveal that various cleaners in the England hotel fell under the octupine spell and were bewitched into stealing items of the Team’s underwear. A deeply superstitious bunch, England players can only play to their potential when wearing their ‘lucky pants’. Rooney’s favourite Desperate Dan briefs went missing early on in the tournament spreading fear throughout the team. As the rounds progressed, further items went missing. Gareth Barry’s speedy gonzales boxers, John Terry’s designer micky mouse Y fronts and Frank Lampard’s ‘tizer’ branded incontinence nappy all disappeared, resulting in a devastating effect on team ability and concentration. Forced to wear unfamilar and unbranded underwear, England fell apart.

Of course, a tactical genius like the uber-octopus had a further ace up its sucker. At the precise moment when the shot from Lampard crossed the line (interestingly, Lampard reports this being the only time his south african pants felt comfortable and ‘secure’) our eight limbed nemesis focused all its attention on the match officials, causing temporary embolisms in their visual cortexes. Prevented by FIFA from using anything other than their senses to make decisions, the helpless officials disallowed the goal and the rest is history, mein aquatischen fuhrer!

The world awaits the octopus’ approach to Maradona (my prediction is a half-time nude abuse of his vuvuzela in the centre circle) and the rest of the teams remaining in Germany’s way. As the saying goes: “Football is a simple game, 22 men kick a ball up and down the pitch for 90 minutes then, following telekinetic intervention by a corrupt cephalopod mollusk, the Germans win.”

As for me, I am putting on my anti-octopus lead helmet and returning to non-league drinking in Rotheram. I will return only when the octopus, and all his teutonic kind, are served in batter with a nice garlic mayonnaise.

Dave ‘Long Live the Vertebrates’ Ambuscade

Hubris is a dish best served a La Francais

June 18, 2010

Sacres bleus!! Viva mexico!! Arriba arriba nachos libres!!

Por tois le cup is oveur.  A dour display by the sons of la republic leaves them at the mercy of others (yet again, nobody mention the war).

While the french cockerel fails to wake for the dawn, no doubt too tired after a night with underage denizens of the bois de bologne, the english lion awakes to another feasting day on the african plains.

With last week’s diplomatic tie with the USA well under the bridge (and Robert Green making good headway in his secret quest to single handedly rescue the special relationship after the BP well debacle), attention now focuses on the Algeria game.

The masterful Don Fabio’s plan is progressing well, I fully expect a revived strikeforce with  Defoe and Rooney up front with Gerrard coming in from behind.  Attack from the front lads, defend high up the pitch and take your chances well, In other words don’t be French,

Despite the insular views of those untravelled and myopic fans wanting the BBC to bleep out the Vuvuzelas I am a personal fan of them.  Not only do they function as a spare leg (always useful) but can be used as a funnel through which to pour the budweiser (the only beer allowed at the stadiums) into the sea.  FIFA – whathaf**k?  Not even the yanks drink it! and at 30 rand (3 quid) a bottle its overpriced, undercooled and unfortunately, much like Frank Ribery, over here,

My prediction today is for a sudetenland stalemate, a yankee doodle dandy and a narrow England win with the british tabloids resurrecting headlines from Monty’s north african campaign.

Au revior again ma plucky franch freenz.

Ayoba!

Dave ‘insert vuvuzela here’ Ambuscade

Don Fabio Expects

June 12, 2010

The nation awaits the latest results of Don Fabio’s manouverings later today.  Intervening in the Mexican Gulf to distract the US and foster a degree of anti-english feeling that will take the US team over the top to will allow our glorious boys to go over the top under cover and round the back coming in off the flanks to deliver a killing blow early doors.
 
Dave’s predictions are a team comprising Green, Johnson, Terry, Nat, King, Cole, Milner, Gerrard, Lampard, Cole, John, Lennon and Desparate Dan the Growth Hormone Man.  With a 3 – 1 England Victory within grasp.  Nobody needs to mention Don Fabio’s ‘Sicilian Heritage’ and the ‘influence’ that can bring to the behaviour of certain members of the USA team.  Omerta my friends, omerta.
 
The English weather has been imported specially.  My arrival on its own has resulted in a freak cold front sweeping the country with temperatures in the key venues resembling the cold wigan nights I remember from my own footballing days.  I’d like to see Ronaldo coping with freezing temperatures with just a freshly killed ferret to warm his crack and a mild and bitter at half-time.  Mind you, he probably has a sheepskin jockstrap.  In my time the only sheepskin we got was the one we hid inside to avoid the other team’s fans after a ‘cunning’ victory courtesy of a well nobbled referee.
 
I’m off now to see the plucky South Koreans defeat the Greeks while passing my hollow leg around the bar, filled with Ouzo and Rice Wine. 
 
Bafana Bafu**ed!!
 
Dave ‘In Fab We Trust’ Ambuscade, Durban, South Africa

Cry God for Barry, England and St George

May 27, 2010

While I could fill the holding midfielder role with a plomb (Older readers among you may remember Reg Plomb who played for Preston North End in the 1930’s, RIP Reg), Don Fabio seems to think it involves being mobile, passing accurately and timing your tackles well (that’s you Carrick!!!).  He is obviously not familiar with my old ‘hollow leg’ technique of imbibing overproof rum and then fire breathing onto the ‘upper thighs’ of the approaching opposition.  That works wonders.  I’d like to see Messi continue his runs with singed nadgers!  Ronaldo will be tricky though as I think he shaves his.  Maybe just dangle a fake diamond at him, that’ll distract him long enough to splash a bit of Old Spice down his shorts – ooh that smarts!!
 
If he doesn’t favour that tactic then he’ll need to put Barry out, on crutches if necessary.  Alternatively he can go with the umbrellad one’s 1-3-5-21-45-two-fat-ladies approach that is understood only too badly by our head-down-run-at-the-enemy-god-bless-em-boys. 
 
My innovative suggestion – forget about the holding midfielder and put two goalies on – rush keeper FIFA?
 
My latest strike breaking travel technique – if you can’t get on the flight you need, get in an insulated diving suit complete with oxygen tanks and sellotape yourself to a non-BA plane.  That way you can cope with the cold and the lack of air during the flight and can drop yourself into the sea on the approach to South Africa – thus avoiding all that messy customs stuff.  Remember to take your diving knife though, to cut yourself out of the sellotape and to deal with sharks as you get nearer the shore. 
 
Later WC goers, I’m off to put a bet on North Korea!

Dave Ambuscade, South London.

Fear the Volcano God!

May 18, 2010

The British Airways strike looks like being called off because the unions did not publicise 11 spoilt ballot papers out of a total of 10,000 ballots cast in their strike vote.  This is a most welcome move as it means I can now come to SA courtesy of our national flag carrier and not by raft.  The only thing I fear now is the wrath of the angry Volcano God, he keeps the skies of Europe filled with ash as the hapless citizens try in vain to beg him for mercy.  Their piety is not in doubt but their inability to call him by his proper name, Eyjafjallajökull, means that their pleas go unheard.  When will you hear our cry Volcano God?  Where is Doug McClure when you need him?

On the pitch, Don Fabio continues his injury smokescreen, rumours that the spud faced nipper has overdosed on cow pies fill the airways as the odds for the Peter Crouch/Praying Mantis ‘robo-dance’ in the final lengthen.  Who will be the player of the tournament – my prediction is Kim Jung Ill, midfield supremo and creative inspiration for the North Korea side.

As Ceasar would say: Totus teams lascivio tunc germen lucror in poena tametsi vacuus Ballack is ero aliquantulus furta!

Dave Ambuscade, South London.