A golden night

Another eventful night to report back on, with plenty of goals, gaffes and great celebrations. With Peter being a late withdrawal from proceedings, the two teams – which were perfectly balanced – were thrown out of kilter. Was it ever any different?

Here are your teams:

Yellows: Steve, Bristol Paul, me, Bert, Ed, Joe, Mario, Tony, Ian Gooner

Blues: Simon Gas, Simon Ink, Liam, Danny, Alan, James, Sebastian, Tannero, Yev

The game started much as it ended; with Sebastian hammering the ball not so much past Ed, our specialist ‘keeper, lest we forget, as through him in what became something of a motif for the game. This prompted some changes – Ed came out of goal and I went in – before Sebastian’s second saw a rejigging of the teams, (to little effect), with Ed and Yev swapping sides:

Yellows: Steve, Bristol Paul, me, Bert, Yev, Joe, Mario, Tony, Ian Gooner

Blues: Simon Gas, Simon Ink, Liam, Danny, Alan, James, Sebastian, Tannero, Ed

A word on the sides here; before the game was more than a few minutes old Alan was complaining that they weren’t fair because the Blue team didn’t have enough defenders – frankly, they didn’t need any – before Tony then opined that the Yellow team did not have enough strikers, hence the move to provide the Yellows with Yev, despite already having the not inconsiderable striking talent of Mario.

Never mind. Sebastian’s second, from memory, was from a tight angle whereupon the young Colombian maestro placed the ball with the outside of his boot into the top corner of the far post as he hoved in on goal. His next strike was from the other side of the area. With your correspondent still in nets, I stationed myself flush against the near post to prevent the ball from sneaking in, whereupon the South American elected to thrash the ball so hard that all I was able to sense was a breeze around my knees as the ball hurtled into the back of the net. 3-0 to the Blues.

This was the stage when Yev came over to join the Yellows, but Tony soon pegged the score back with a lofted shot direct from the restart that caught out James (?) in goal. 3-1. Thereafter, things become a bit blurry.

Two scruffy goals – one for each side – followed, with Steve closing down the otherwise immaculate Sebastian and forcing the ball in from close range. Next came arguably the moment of the night, as Tony responded to a call from Bert in goal by banging the ball blindly back toward his own goal and into the back of the net. Somehow, it was everyone else’s fault for talking.

Mario also scored direct from the restart, but by this stage the Yellows were hopelessly behind and Sebastian completed his own scoring by deftly dropping a shoulder, weaving inside and lining up yet another howitzer of a shot that would have probably taken Bert out in goal had he got anywhere near it. Speaking of which, the one passage in play during which Sebastian was in anyway subdued was when Bert fouled him from behind. Instructive, perhaps.

Final score: Sebastian 6 (7?) – Yellows 3

To the pub! Plenty to report on from the Skinners this week. Ian and I, of all people, were approached by a random punter and asked if we were Tottenham season ticket holders: fighting talk, I’d say. When we said no, but we knew a man who was, we realised that Tony had already left for the evening, presumably because we were talking too much, so Ian offered to keep the auteur’s Tottenham wristband safe until this Friday. You can see for yourself what happened next:

Onto happier things now, with Steve celebrating his half century in fine style. Ian demonstrated his inimitable largesse by procuring the sometime Scotsman with a bevy of age appropriate gifts, including: a Bells whisky miniature; a packet of shortbread; a tin of corned beef; a tube of superglue; some Vaseline (make the connection yourselves) and finally a postcard from the Queen to mark fifty years before he gets his telegram. (I should have been on the generation game).

And it would be remiss of me not to relay, gentle reader, that our dear leader, the Muswell Hillbilly himself, spent a not inconsiderable amount of time making the acquaintance of a delightful young lady named Elizabeth (from Huddersfield) and, it would seem, getting her phone number. More news as it comes.

Until Friday…