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Daz - Vocals
Norbert - Vocals, Sax, Drums, Bass, Guitar |
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Shockers on Sunday was mainly written by Daz Shields with Norbert adding the odd lyrical flourish here and there.
Daz also took on vocal duties with Norbert chipping in with the choruses. Its an autobiographical song as Daz expertly relates his experiences as a professional substitute for one of the UK's top Sunday League teams. His colourful characterisations of his team mates are on a par with the great writers and authors of the 20th Century, such as Katie Price and David Beckham. The song itself has a very Jazzy sound to it as Norbert displays his prowess with the Saxophone and Daz expertly picks at his (b)ass. The band have an extensive collection of Jazz mags so it is no surprise that they eventually added Jazz to their vast repertoire of musical genres. The song however courted controversy at the time of it's release and was accused of unconscious racism, the offending line being "Then the Wort boy he starts fartin". Whilst this may seem innocuous to anyone reading this drivel it's only when you closely listen to the lyric as it is sung that you can understand the rage these people felt. Daz, for no explainable reason, sings it with a West Country drawl. This outraged the farmers of Bristol and the cider makers of Somerset to such an extent that they marched en masse into Chesterfield town centre to tear down any statue of Daz Shields they could find whilst chanting "Yokel lives matter". Unable to find any such statue they settled for putting a traffic cone on the head of the statue of William Edward Harvey MP on Saltergate opposite the junction with Tennyson Avenue. The rampaging mob, off their tits on Somerset Redstreak and Old Jollop High Noon and led by such notable West Country folk as Pete Budd from the Wurzels, Acker Bilk and Grotbags then made their way to the Salty Club armed with pitchforks and flaming torches. Unfortunately for them by this time the Salty Club as such no longer existed and was now a storage depot for the buliders who were erecting a new housing estate on the site of the former Chesterfield F.C ground. After then being unable to locate Daz Shields to give him a damn good telling off and after being told to move on by the local Police Community Support Officer they had a quick snack of Mangelwurzel pie, downed another couple of jugs of scrumpy, climbed aboard their Shire Horses and made their way back home to their hovels and shacks. Pete Budd later gave an interview to Uber fan Paul "Goffy" Gofton which was published on page 80 of the March 20th 2012 issue of the Derbyshire Times (just after the obituarys). "Ark at ee, he be a-feard to face us. Ee be cakey that there Shields. Ee be joppety when we catch up we im or zummit. Oill stick me pitchfork where the sun don't shine. Alrite me luvver" |
Get up Sunday morning feeling grim
Last nights beer leaves a stench Gotta get round to the Salty Club To take my place on bench Lee turns up in his brown top Plumby tells of night on the pull Most of the team are not much cop These matches are rarely dull Teams announced and some heads drop As some lads won't be startin They shuffle away feeling miffed Then the Wort boy he starts fartin We were The Salty Club Our dodgy tactics knew no bounds It was just a ropey pub And we used to play at the Birdholme Ground Some weeks we'd get no ref They'd ask for volunteers But those not playing would rather be In Salty downing beers Ian Ashton played up front What more can I say He was just like Justin Fashanu Except he wasn't gay (or dead) Andy Bunting was in the net He always had a mare Opponents knew that goals they'd get Cos he was fat and had no hair We were The Salty Club With an ever changing kit Just like our style of play They were rather shit Foxy would turn up every week With a different kind of strain Hamstring, knee and even cheek Constantly in pain Achilles tendon, calf or back he'd have every kind of knock If young Bulgie weren't around He'd say "I've pulled me cock" Captain Kane before the match Would crouch down for a shit Then wipe his arse on a bandage From the first aid kit We were The Salty Club The worst team in the land Greg would always turn up pissed With a pint still in his hand Bucko was the star man But only in his head Cos when it came to defending His boots were full of lead Goal hanging was his biggest skill And goals he'd get the most When he wasn't going round keeper And colliding with the post When the Jolley boy was in defence It was full of holes Back passes would go astray And end up as own goals Rob would show up feeling fine Hoping for a game But he'd often end up running line To his eternal shame After the match the banter would fly And the days events dissected If you'd scored they'd take the piss Saying "it must have been deflected" In the cup, if we'd lost We'd laugh at Jones boys schmutter "Do you know how much this Parka cost" But leagues our bread and butter All in all a right good laugh In fact a real grin It would have been much better though If sometimes we could win |
The famous statue of William Edward Harvey pictured after the 2011 Yokel Lives Matter riots. Whilst the local council had already removed the traffic cone the shocking graffiti remained untouched as the bloke who's job it was to scrub it off was on his holidays in his caravan at Winthorpe at the time. Due to strict union rules no one else was allowed to use his brush.
In 1996 The Salty Club were the subject of a Match of the Day documentary. This cutting edge fly on the wall documentary pathed the way for similar programmes such as "There's Only One Barry Fry" and the Graham Taylor biopic "An Impossible Job". The show used never seen before camera angles to record the match segments, included fascinating pre and post match behind the scenes insights and utilised the services of a semi literate non playing member of the squad to narrate the series.
It was cancelled after one episode.
It was cancelled after one episode.
