Relegation (without the relegation)

It's been a while since last the tales of wily old Wimbledon have been shared with the masses. Oh, and what a crazy while it's been. Many matches - packed full of goals, players, and synthetic blades of grass - have been and gone, and the end result, unfortunately, saw Wimbledon finish bottom of the division. But don't fret yet!

  Due to - well, I have no idea what it's due to, so I'll just say - unforeseen circumstances, the relegation fell through, and Wimbledon remain in the same division they entered so grandly last season. Hazaar!

The Upcoming Season

This season, the main challenge for silverware comes in the form of The Avengers and The Fellowship. For those not graced in popular culture, here are their team photos:

BRING ON THE FOOTBALL!!!

Martin: The Gleghorn Story

Tonight, with the season well under way, Wimbeldon decided to have a pre-season friendly. That was our first - and by no means last - mistake.
  It was a match that last exactly 71 minutes, a match played on synthetic grass with little black balls of something scattered on it, and a match played with a football owned by Philip Mason.
  Other things happened too.

Also, Tini didn't score.
At all.
Not even once.

A League Collapses

Breaking news this afternoon that the Raich Carter Thursday Night 5-a-Side League, founded by Henry VIII after an undercooked dinner of pheasant and swan, is no more.

The news is that numbers for the new season have been falling faster than Amir Khan, and there are no longer enough quality teams to be able to comprise a full league. It never stopped the SPL, but down here, we do things different. We have knives AND forks. We have fruit. And we have dignity. You can keep your freedom.

Returning from my anti-Scot rant, this leaves Wimbledon is hiatus. Administrators are already on the case. The house of Paul Hands has been raided for cash to keep the club afloat, but all that was found were two blonde sex dolls and 52 pictures of himself, topless.

This is surely the tip of the iceberg where this story is concerned, and like the Titanic, events here today are likely to make a splash all through football

Not Even The Bridesmaids...

In a season that saw Wimbledon dominate to begin with, we faded faster than Charlie Sheen's credibility, and finished a measly 3rd. This means that we'll be plying our trade in the Championship next season, as only the champions, One Direction's friends, and the runners up, The Team With The Big Ginger Guy FC, get promoted.

We did all we could do. Our match against The Owls finished 3-0 to Wimbledon, as kick-off was too early for the nocturnal avians and they didn't show up. This left us in 2nd place, and with the top 2 playing each other, there was still hope. Unfortunately, hope wasn't enough, and 3rd place was the best that the Dons could manage.

With the new season due to kick off on Thursday, the Dons have to be strong favourites for promotion, if they can avoid an end of season collapse worse than Daniella Westbrook's nose.

Bring on the new season!

Twoo!!

Breaking News: Return of the Raich... Carter.

When news broke earlier in the week that Wimbledon might be leaving their birthplace of the Raich Carter league for better and not-atrociously-organised heights, I was literally inundated with a message of disgust. But, news have just reached me - via the day it sat in my inbox on my phone - that there will be no league changing for the Dons next season. 

Because unlike Ashley Cole, we are not Choc Ices (although AVB told me he was a Calippo, whatever that means?). Also, just for the record, unlike Ashley Cole we have never been the subject of a Twitter rant or have had our genitalia appear on Google Images. Here's hoping.

The Thursday Night Goals league will have to wait for another year, because next season, we'll continue to ply our trade in the world's most undervalued league, the Eredivisie. I mean, the Raich Carter Thursday Night league. Yeah, that one. 

The Next Rangers Newco?

  Rangers have been making waves in the football world by handling their finances the way Gary Glitter wants to handle children, illegally and with poor morale judgement. And recently, Scotland's second largest team have been relegated to the Third Division, to play against such mighty giants as Elgin and That Field With Shetland Ponies In Untied.

  Now, you might be thinking what exactly this has to do with Wimbledon. You might also be thinking that I could have come up with a better Gary Glitter joke. I accept both thoughts. And I'm about to answer one of them.

  Making it's way around the rumour mill are the Chinese Whispers that Wimbledon might be ejecting themselves from the Raich Carter league. As unbelievable as this may seem, the rumours seem to be true, with Charlie Carr - academy superstar and son of player Chris Carr - handing a drawing to his Mam of his dad playing football, and it was not at the Raich Carter. This picture became viral within seconds of the crayons settling on the floor, and the tongues haven't stopped wagging since.

  What will happen in the future for Wimbledon? Will they be part of the rumoured SPL2? Will they takw the place of Chelsea in the Premier League when Roman Abramovic inevitably becomes bored and changed the football club into a roller disco? Or will they, much more likely, just join the Goals Sunderland Thursday Night League?

  No one knows.

  Or if they do, please tell me. I'd quite like to know.

Transfer Update

With Wimbledon apparently in a free-falling decline, the manager - a secret underground figure known only as 'The Roid' - has stepped in and a new recruit has been brought in.

The yellow Angry Bird, better known by his nickname 'Zlatan Imbrahimovic', is a pacey centre-forward with a devastating burst of speed. His off-the-ball movement is often described as 'direct' or 'straight', while his finishing is erratic. Has a pathological hatred of pigs.

Initial reports have the deal as undisclosed, but inside sources have revealed the deal with worth 69p, with the yellow Angry Bird leaving his previous home in the Apple Store.

If you're one of our more regular followers, or 'Wimbledites' as you will now be known, you may have noticed that there was no match review this week.
'WHAT!?!?' I hear you cry, now perched on the edge of your seat.
That's right. There is no match report this week. Mainly because we got beat, and we're sore losers. But I have it on good authority (Sarah Miles) that we have bigger penises than they do, and that their goalkeeper lets old men touch him for money, so who are the real winners?
Them...

Match Preview

Wolf Pack 2

This week sees the return from a pre-season tour of Bulgaria of 4 key players, meaning the squad will no longer be made up of people not fast enough to run away when we went searching with a giant net. Paul Hands has much to prove, as the team's current top scorer, while Jamie Miles looks to put his anger issues of last week to one side (a good dominatrix would sort the boy out. Classic Fergie tactics!) and not miss an easy one-on-one.

Little is known about Wimbledon's opponents this week, other than they starred in the hit film 'The Hangover'. Their football skills are more mysterious than Maddie McCann's whereabouts, although the fat bearded guy on the left looks like he'll be a real danger on the wing.

Last week, this pack of 'wolves' got beat off a group of black cats, giving a huge middle finger to Charles Darwin and his evolutionary nonsense.

Predicted Score: 5-1 to the Dons

Pre-Season Tour of Bulgaria

This season saw Wimbledon try to increase their fan base abroad with a pre-season tour of Bulgaria. Unfortunately, only 4 of the squad could afford to go, so for the matches, Dimitar Berbatov was drafted in to play in goal.

Game 1 -  Berbatov FC

A tight game that saw no goals and an unhealthy amount of alcohol consumption at half time. The second half saw Tini pass out in front of his own goal, stopping 2 clear goalscoring opportunities. Hurray for unconsciousness.

Game 2 - FC Strippers

Played in the ancient format of 'Shirts vs Skins', some kind of football happened. But mainly boobs. Just boobs.

Game 3 - Suspicious Mafioso Wanderers

I didn't see anything. He tripped and fell. Gun? What gun?

Match Review

Mr Men 5 - Wimbledon 3

Apparently Kangaskhan can't play football...

In a performance graced with all the consistency of Michael J Fox drawing a scatter graph, Wimbledon went in 4-0 down at half time.
But a comeback was on the cards as the team gelled, the performance improved, and they started to get arrogant, the highlight of which was a stunning goal from Forrester, embarrassing the defender by out-pacing him and slotting past a goalkeeper auditioining for Hollywood.
A landmark did happen during the match though. The first goal scorer by Wimbledon was their 500th in the competiton, and this honour went to 'Pottsy', estranged husband of Mrs Potts from Beauty and the Beast.
A better performance and result needed next time out as 3 key players return, as well as Paul Hands.

Match Preview

The Mr Men

This is the 2nd time we'll have played Mr Men this season. The first game was dominated by one player, henceforth dubbed as Mr Mean. He was tall, angry, a sore loser, and all in all, a big meanie. They took a surprise lead when Mr Mean broke free, but we came back strongly in the 2nd half, winning by 7 goals to 1 in the end, a scoreline that prompted Mr men to decide that we were rubbish. (Go figure?)

Tonight's game sees the Dons without 4 key players, so emergency loans have been used, and playing tonight will be regulars Jamie, Andy, and Greg, as well as Ross (from the hit TV show Friends) and the Pokemon Kangaskhan.

Predicted score: 4-2 to the Dons

The Team

 

Andy 'IT'S GOING OUT, JUST LEAVE IT!' Clark

 
Dons goalkeeper Andy Clark is affectionally known as The Cat, because he can often be caught sipping milk from a saucer late at night. He has the shot-stopping abilities of a bullet-proof vest, the reflexes of an acute angle, and holds the world record for the slowest ever successful dribble, timed at 1 week, 2 days, 6 hours, and 42 minutes.

Martin 'Tini' Gleghorn

Like his idols, Cher and Bono, Gleghorn is better known by a single name, Tini, taken from his physical similarity to a martini glass. A tough-tackling, no-hands-barred defender, Tini can always be relied upon to miss from 5 yards or less. He works part time as the team's coach driver, providing only the best pre-match tunes that BBC Radio 3 can muster up.

Adam 'Browney' Brown

Browney is a traditional attacking full-back, with a cup final appearance to his name this season, when he masqueraded as Ashley Cole. He is good friends with Michael Owen and Owen hargreaves through their times shared on the treatment table. Browney once had the honour of discovering an entirely unknown bone in his finger, when he broke it sitting on the bench, while recovering from a previous injury.

Chris 'Carrsi' Carr

Like Emile Heskey, Carrsi is famed for his inability to score a simple goal. Unlike Emile Heskey, Carrsi isn't Emile Heskey. He's the fiery member of the squad, often getting into 12 fights while warming up. Serial winner of the Goal of the Season award - an award suspiciously judged by himself - and team accountant.

Paul 'Handsi' Hands

Much like Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain, Handsi had to choose between rugby and football at a young age, and it is clear from his performances that he made the right choice in chosing rugby. Handsi is an all-action midfielder, running more than 20 miles per match, and is the leading goalscorer through a series of powerful left-footed shots conviently missed by the opposition goalkeepers. First in the shower and last one out, nobody has yet found a way to stop Handsi sneaking into other people's showers.

Greg 'Giovinco' Forrester

With the ability to outrun most 5 year olds, Forrester has become a huge part of the team in the last few months. He's the key player, the captain, and frankfully, I don't understand how the team coped without him. He also writes the blog posts...

Jamie 'Jamie' Miles

If the beginning of this post was his own goal, then Jamie is in his regular place, as far away from it as possible. He refuses to consider himself disabled, despite clearly having no right foot, which has to be admired. Jamie can always be relied upon to forget to mark his man and hang about upfield, while shouting about instructions about how to defend from the opposite end of the pitch.