A first-whistle call to arms, usually by the team’s captain/hardman/captain hardman, imploring every player to brainlessly marmalise their nearest opponent, whether he has the ball or not. Designed to ‘let the opposition know they’re in a game’.
“Get it in the mixer!”
Taken, we assume, from the building site – only this has nothing to do with applying the right blend of sand and cement. ‘It’ is the ball; ‘the mixer’ is the middle of the box between the penalty spot and the goal – or what long-ball tactical boffins used to call the ‘Position of Maximum Opportunity’. They’re kidding no one. Favoured by the big, the clueless and the desperate, from either open play or set-pieces.
If Sunday League football had Ten Commandments, “Thou shalt not attempt to pass, dribble or Cruyff turn your way out of trouble” would be one of them. Given this shout is often the preserve of those who favour getting it in the mixer, what they really mean is “Not anywhere”. See also: “Don’t f**k about with it!” and “Away!”
A patronising piece of psychological claptrap, uttered by the winning team to guard against complacency as they kick off the second half or regroup after taking a 5-0 lead within 20 minutes. Valid only in amateur football, where protecting a lead is against the law and outright victory can only be claimed by a win in each half. Or something.
“We’ve gone quiet!”
Let’s get one thing straight: if you’re not providing a running commentary on your own team’s performance, you can’t be playing well – or so many believe. Because informative talking (“Man on”, “Time”, “Turn”) can be beneficial, “We’ve gone quiet” is occasionally used by intelligent players, too. But not very often.
“how long, Ref?”
Something for everyone, here. If you’re losing, you need to know how long you’ve got to get it in the mixer. If you’re winning – although you’re never winning because “it’s 0-0” – this is a gentle reminder to the man in the middle. Specifically: “Haven’t you had enough of being abused by 22 clowns? Shouldn’t we all just go to the pub?”