Manche ter City 2
Semenyo 31, Rodri 62
Nottingham Forest 2
MGW 56, Anderson 76

They're made of plastic, you know.

Really, Stress? What would that be then?

The spectators at the Etihat. They're made of oil-based plastic. They are stuffed with servos and speakers which pick up signals from an AI transmitter in Stockport.

I seriously doubt that.

It's true, Pie, because Stabbo told me. He knows the bloke who works the transmitter. Apparently he's as reliable as a Chinese corkscrew. That's why the place is so quiet.

Of course it is. Where's the match report then? You're supposed to be doing the match report.

Okay okay. Are you ready? First of all, Mister Vitor played three at the back with two wing backs, which meant that he was going to try to win it. Brave stuff. But first there was some sweaty defending to do which was okay until the defence went to sleep and left Semenyo free to ponk home a simple volley.

Ponk?

Then there were a few duff shots from both sides then it was half time. "Oh no," we thought, "here we go again, for Mister Vitor's plan to win the game is skippered by our uselessness in front of goal."

Skippered?

So the second half starts and would you believe it Aina charges down the right like he did in the old days and crosses to the far post, where Jesus cleverly ponks it back into the middle, where MGW shields the ball and does a cross-legged back heel which nutmegs Dias and bamboozles Ronny Dummer in the City goal. And we all realise how Mister Vitor has solved our goal-scoring problem. "Go out there and make miracles," he must have said. "Two if you can manage it." But the best laid plans of stray gangs of mice are as reliable as a Chinese corkscrew, and that Rodri bloke bundles home City's second and screams his daft head off as if he's just won the Worksop and District Bowls League sponsored by Bassetlaw Waste Water Management Systems, and we're all thinking "Woe is us, down into the bottom three we go." But we're a forgetful lot, aren't we? For did not Mister Vitor say he wanted two miracle goals, and sure enough, as the match neared its end, the Lesser Blue Foden lost the ball, Mister Anderson did a one-two with somebody, and steered the ball at pace past Ronny Dummer. It was so amazing that Mister Anderson almost smiled. And that was it really. Another miracle, another point, another reason for hope. Huzzah! Jam for tea!

That's it, is it? What about all the other bits?

If you're referring to Haaland's penalty shout, I think the ref should have sent Haaland off for kneeing Sels in the face and being as ugly as a cartoon fish. Also Banana Silva should have been sent off for whining, and Guardiola should be fined for incoherent sulking. And Ryan Yates should be fined for a silly foul in a dangerous position and for failing to head home our winner. And Murillo should be awarded the Bassetlaw Waste Water Management Systems Medal for Services to the General Health of the Community. Well done Murillo! Well done all! And didn't they play like the good old days, eh Pie?

They did, Stress. They did. It's Donnarumma, by the way.

She's a woman?