SEASON 1994-95 Living in the past WEBMEISTER BREAKS NEW GROUND WITH UPDATED FOGG-HORN!

The Chairman's history of the "Where's The Head On That Pint Fantasy League"

The Arrival of the Iron Fist

The word was spreading as we made plans for our second season. By this time the newspaper game had taken hold in the national press and it was decided to press ahead within that framework. The Chairman still kept records so that the tally of goals, assists, clean sheets goals against and points could be dished out to those interested. We kept to an auction set-up simply because it was an entertaining evening out for everyone. By now our numbers had swelled to fifteen.

There was another change that happened before the season got underway. Running the league in the Telegraph, Fantasy League® had opted to change the points system of the game. Now instead of teams being awarded 4pts for a clean sheet, things became slightly more complex as the 1pt for playing, -1 pt for each goal conceded system (or system "B") came into operation.

The auction was held for the first time in the garden of the Ashley Arms. As the evening continued and the temperature dropped, we retired first to the lounge and then to my front room. This really was the mother of all auctions. We kicked off at 5.30pm and were still going at 1am. The last hour was a nightmare, as exhaustion took over and nobody could name a player who hadn't already been bought. When it was finally over I saw everybody out and fell into bed where sleep evaded me for most of the night, so hyped up was I after the event.

We had eight new managers on board. They included Roger Bush, who bought a load of rubbish so he could cream off Cole and Wright; Paul Raymond, who was to go under the splendid name of Club International; and Tim Clay, who was soon to start a new life in the USA. Also on board for the first time was the man who was to inspire much fear and loathing over the coming seasons. 1994/95 saw the arrival of the league's arch nemesis, Adrian Downs, the Iron Fist of Fantasy Football. I had mentioned that we were setting up a league to Adge back in December of '93, but he didn't seem interested. By the following summer, the worm had turned. He was up for it. As the season progressed, the bulging ledger of notes and statistics he kept, grew. He lived and breathed it and as the season progressed, it fast became a two horse race between the Chairman's Gas Giants and The Iron Fist's The Twerton Terrors. Whilst other teams made valuable contributions, not least Simon Fletcher's Rapid Rizla, and the league's first champions, Dynamo Chicken Kiev, it was really all about a struggle of wills between Adge and myself. By the end of the season, Trevor was propping up the table, as usual, and Adge had his boot firmly placed on my mounded belly. A mere 3pts settled it. The Iron Fist was here to stay.

In the cups, as ever, it was a different matter. In the 838 League Cup (we retained the name) the Chairman had failed to even qualify past the group stages. The Twerton Terrors on the other hand had swept all before them in the group stage only to slip up in the quarter-finals. As the competition worked its way out, two teams paired up for the final, Matt Wood's Cheers, Fat Blokes! and Jenny O'Brien's Bring The Robin Back To Bristol. In the end Jenny came out on top, 14-8, thanks largely to her greater defensive nous. Matt got his revenge in a five-a-side competition we also held that season, The Pelforth Fives, beating Jenny's mob 6-0. In the final Arnold Rimmer Trophy Final, Tim Maggs's Novice No-Hopers walloped Nick Lloyd-Jones's Megans Northern Clarets, 24-6. The tie of the competition, however, occurred in the very first round as Gas Giants turned over The Twerton Terrors 5-1. The holders were to be knocked out in the semis by Nick's Clarets.

As the second season came to an end, however, changes were in the air. Several members of the league moved away or resigned, although there was new blood waiting in the wings to take their places. This season away from the Official Fantasy League® game, or Fantasy League Professional®, as it was now being billed had stimulated interest. Although we had scored via the Telegraph game, that in itself had piqued people's curiosity because we kept the Auction format, which meant that everybody had their own unique clutch of players. As the numbers of recruits grew, I insisted on one thing: we were going back to Fantasy League®, rather than play the newspaper game. As the song says, "Nobody does it better", and back in the fold was where we belonged.