Lost Sock, Pantsocracy and Pantsinator dutifully filed on to the scrimmage line five games running, every kick off, like clock work, taking punches for the team and coming out wearing spotless, crinkle free pants and sporting a smooth line along the bum for the ladies in the audience.

They still refuse to give their lives in the name of quality tailoring and the general disregard for everyone that has come to be known as "The way of Pants".

How long will they remained unscathed and weigh down the Pantsayers with their useless team rating contributions? We may never know...

Who's the nattily dressed cat makes all the elf maidens go oooooh?

Pants!

Who can sneak a ball into the end zone simply by hiding it in his enormous trouser package?

Pants!

He's a complicated elf, but no one understands why he wears a football sized jockstrap...

Pants!

Heavily starched, straight down the crease with pinpoint precision.

Hold the spangles, we've got a match to win and dry cleaning to deliver.

No grass stains, ever, that's his guarantee.

When this man says Pants! He means trousers and he ain't joking.