Good to see the passion of the SPL and Gardies banter still filters through here. Quite surprised there are a few memories of Southern Football that go further than "don't touch my pink gstring" McKenzie and "am I a russian crane driver or do I just have a sh*t touch" Dunbar. People like Dunbar aren't good enough to lace Luke Mcrais boots let alone JD/stink out the cook with your burning chest hair Dale, Troutsniffer or Micro Chip.
Southland Spirit haven't been the same since the dancing feet of John Herdman and the ankle sniper Karl Hawkes in midfield plus the the jack of all positions master of none Chippa Dale upfront chasing lost causes from Paul Potrac. Under lights at the stags stadium the best night of any Rosyln players life.
Caversham, Tech, Rosyln still all rubbish - go up north and play a decent game every week and see how you go. Not just a one off Chathum Cup tie at Tonga park on a postage stamp pitch.
Keep the rubbish banter going as it's quite amusing sometimes - Terry Parle you should apply to the ODT for Rab's job cause the accent didn't fool anyone who knew anything about football.
The Glass Man Richard Smith for the SPL Golden Boot. You heard it here first.