Claret Blue and Green
The rolled-over waistband and the wooden thighs were about to reach the Villa man and McGrath’s wicked eyes were trained on the ball and Rudge’s legs. The Saint bore down on the Villa winger side-on and launched himself forwards, propelling boots, studs and tree-stump legs, like battering rams at a mediaeval door. At the point of impact however, Rudge, probably having sensed the attack, or death, nudged the ball on and sprang over the lunging McGrath’s committal, skipping clear. Gasps were audible as McGrath slid over the touchline like a Baseball batter struggling to make fourth base and the unsightly Saint crashed off the pitch and slid towards the surrounding wall in a sorry heap.
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Author
Topic: Dave Rudge (Read 2909 times)
