HIBERNIAN 1- 3 ABERDEEN
Another season stumbles incompetently over the finishing line. With nothing to play for, except pride.... hahaha, I kid... this Aberdeen team has no pride to play for. So, with nothing to play for, particularly not pride, the Mighty Dons went to Easter Road for one last pointless kick-about before fucking off on their holidays, many of them (hopefully) never to return to the club.
The only thing of any note this game had was a minute's applause for Eddie Turnbull, formely of both Aberdeen and Hibs, and surely the Aberdeen players must have been wondering what the fuck that noise was, it having been so long since anyone clapped at an Aberdeen game.
21 minutes gone and Riorden blooters the ball square into the net to put the Edinburgh Celtic 1-0 up on the Dons. This is no shock, save it took about 20 minutes longer to happen than expected, the East Coast Tims having put the Special Kids under pressure from the word Go. We awaited the inevitable collapse as the Aberdeen team lost what little interest they had in the game to begin with.
But then something unexpected happened.
Desperate to put themselves in the shop window and fool any watching scouts into offering them a contract, the Aberdeen 'players' started to... actually, I think you had better sit down... they started to play football. Not for their non-existent pride, not for the fans, not for the club, but because they want to still be working after this season ends... that being the same day.
THREE goals by the men in red, two by Chris 'The Tongue' Maguire, put Celtibernian to the sword in a display of putting themselves in the shop window so blatant that the crowd forgot to boo this show of cynicism. Joyous cries of "Aberdeen! Aberdeen! Aberdeen!" resounded around Easter Road, and the final day of the season ended with a rare win for the wankers in red, utter humiliation for the Hibs team Aberdeen had just leapfrogged, and the promise of bottom six SPL football for Aberdeen next year.
So what have we learned from this season?
Well, we've learned that even though as unlikely as it seems, successive Aberdeen managers have unerringly assembled a team so bad that even standing in the same general area as these guys makes you unemployable. They're like a Black Hole of talentlessness, sucking the life and soul out of every living thing unfortunate enough to find itself within the gravitational pull of their collective shitness.
If Mr Happy were to watch this team for 15 minutes he would blow his own brains out in a fit of utter depression and hopelessness. If Mr Tickle were to clone himself 9100 times and tickle each and every Aberdeen supporter for the year he still couldn't raise a single, solitary fucking smile, AND he'd probably hang himself with his extraordinarily long arms to boot. If free blowjobs were given out with every ticket sold this club STILL couldn't persuade the fans to return to watch the absolute piss that is passed off as football by Aberdeen Football club.
In fact, if I were feeling cuntish, I would have these jokers up on charges of false advertising.
Aberdeen Football Club?
The only true word in that line is Aberdeen. They're certainly not footballers, and 'Club' suggests some form of common aim or interest.
And IF, and it's an IF the size of Saturn, IF the club moves to it's new location it won't even be Aberdeen Football Club any more... it'll be Loriston Shite Individuals.
Next season, we're told, things will be better.
We were told that last season... oh, and the season before that.
Well, if by 'Better' the club actually means 'Much, much worse' then I guess I can believe that.
Get fucked, Aberdeen.
Just... get fucked.
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