And so we contemplate the prospect of grown men hitting the bar, tackling Becks, diving headers, reaching the knockout stages, simple tap ins ....... but hey, that’s enough of Keith’s antics, we’ve got a World cup to look forward to and when it comes to reviving the spirit of ‘66, who better to turn to than the Rollin’Stoned, if there's one thing we know about it’s re-living the sixties. Those were the days, I mean you knew where you were in those days, men in dresses, Cats in suits and as for flowers!.... never mind WMD, if you had flowers you had the power in our time..... Interflora would have sorted out your Axis of evil.....we new how to win a World Cup back then and what’s more Bobby Charlton could have shown Beckham and co a thing or two about daft hair styles.

    I shouldn't be mentioning the World Cup really, the band know nothing about football, Mick pretends to, in order to keep up the bogus pretence of a genuine working class bloke, but he'll let himself down, show him some hapless England striker blasting a penalty into the rafters above Row Z and he's leaping up and down applauding for a Six. Byron lost all interest once he realised he'd miss-read an article on what he thought was England surviving the Groupy Stages. Keith it's true is a bit concerned about the fate of the England team, but only because he's worried that if they get knocked out by Ecuador, they'll have to have holes drilled in their heads.

    So, whether you're desperately looking for alternatives to the coming month of wall to wall football coverage, or just some light relief after ninety nerve-wracking minutes enduring the nations highly paid pampered best labouring to to draw with Eleven part time goat-herds from Trinidad & Tobasco, The Rollin’Stoned will be on hand to fill the bill.

    Then, post successful cup campaign and hopefully riding a wave of euphoria, (or even one of the pigs flying around), we move on to the Summer festival season..... well I say Summer, that’s another thing.... you know in our day we had summers of love, not a three month compulsory drought order dished out with complimentary seasonal umbrellas.......

So as the whistle blows, in the immortal words of the Prince of Dartford “over ‘ere Ron, on me ‘ead son”.
Best wishes
The Rollin'Stoned

    So there am I, sitting in a crowded press conference, the Band have just been blown away by the support act, a Moldovian tribute to Peter and Lee, and then I catch the all too familiar halting voice of the manager..... "Vell yes it is true, it might be natural that you could say that the band did not maybe...... play as well as we all would have liked........ but I think in life that is normal.......it is not anyhow always so easy...... and the conditions were really quite difficult for them........ what with all that noise...... coming from their instruments when they try to play the right notes..... so perhaps they are pretty difficult to find with so many strings to get in the way....... but for me the important thing is I have learned a lot.... well anyhow at least the telephone numbers of some very attractive women in the audience........which I think anyway at my age is maybe not so normal"........ at which point I was awoken by the concussive thud of my new my Palm Pilot striking Keith a nasty blow on the head having been dislodged from it's perch on the bookshelf..... thank God, it was all just a dream.... if only the England fans could say the same