Dear Reader, hopefully this will work out! Spizz returns.

Gashead Simon writes the match report.
Friday 16 December
Do they know it’s Christmas?
The last game of the year, a whole three weeks before the next game with an orgy of eating and drinking in-between called Christmas … surely there would be a big turnout at the Finsbury Leisure Centre on Friday 16 December? Well, no actually. So, well done to those nine hardy players who took to the Astroturf on a decidedly crisp evening and a black mark to those who cried off at the last minute, citing ‘other plans’ – we know who you are and what you were up to!
A winter’s tale
With Simon Jarvis away and Joe holidaying in Havana, the thorny task of team selection was left to Mick, who, redefining the word decisiveness, took 5 seconds to do what seems to take most of us an eternity. So, for the last match of the year, the sides were: Simon, Boro Dave, Yevgeny, young Sam and Geoff against Ross, Alan, Mick, Hugh and Danny. On paper, seemingly balanced, you would think, but, in reality, slightly lopsided, especially when one of your team has not turned up (no prizes for guessing who!).
Immediately, both sides went on the attack and, as predictably as night follows day, immediately the defensive mistakes started. Mick’s team went one nil up with a cool finish from Hugh before Yevgeny quickly equallised. Two goals in two minutes and no defence worthy of the name – it was going to be a goalfest and so the evening proved.
Stop the cavalry – Geoff has arrived!
Geoff eventually appeared and went on Simon’s side – unfortunately, no amount of attacking threat from Boro Dave and young Sam can make up for sloppy passing and an unwillingness to track back– Alan Morgan helped himself to an early Christmas present, as did Danny, and before too long the game was getting away from Simon’s side … until something extraordinary happened.
Hark! The Herald Angels Sing!
Spizz arrived albeit some 10 minutes late and went on Simon’s side (for about 15 minutes) and, amazingly, not only went in goal when asked, but stayed there with little complaint for a whole 10 minutes, proving himself quite an adept keeper. Simon’s side now had a numerical advantage and the two-goal deficit was quickly clawed back, through a lucky deflected goal from Yev and a slide rule finish from Boro Dave. 4-4 and the game appeared finely balanced.
Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!
It’s raining goals – and Spizz, who has now been switched to Alan’s side, is now doing what he loves best – goalhanging – and, inevitably, getting on the score sheet. Shot for shot, misplaced pass for misplaced mass and Geoff’s capacity to bemuse and frustrate in equal measure – and more goals were inevitable! By now Alan’s side were leading 7-5 and seemingly heading for victory until young Sam got on the end of a sumptuous curling pass from Simon – an assist that should live long in people’s memory, but, like the last one, will probably have been forgotten by the time people get to the Old Fountain. Another quick goal from Sam and it was 7-7. Hurrah! Until, inevitably, another defensive lapse and Mick’s side took the lead, only for a last gap equaliser and a highly improbable 8-8 draw. Both sides seemed reasonably happy with the result, Simon’s especially that they hadn’t lost, although what Alan Hansen would have made of it … - well, I think we can all guess!
Merry Xmas everybody!
A high-scoring draw to end the year – well there could have been worse ways to round off the year from a footballing perspective. However, if there’s one wish for 2012 – it’s that everybody track back and defend! If you don’t want to be burgled, don’t leave the back door open, as Brian Clough didn’t say. On that sober note, I would like to wish everybody a very merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, and see you all on Friday 6 January!

Party fears too
P.S. Much to Yev’s annoyance, the Christmas party was postponed as quite a few of the stalwarts were missing. It will be rescheduled sometime next year.

Apologies for technical delay over blog!!

Dear Reader, apologies for the delay concerning the blog. The next post has already been written by Gashead Simon but I am having problems uploading it. Never mind I am sure we will get there in the end. Meanwhile, Spizz is on the tour trail again with various formats; Spizzenergi, Spizzoil and Wild Mutation. The punk rocker is even venturing abroad hopefully to improve the country's foreign relations with a gig in Rennes, France.

I smell Winter

The first Friday in December certainly felt like Winter, with players desperate for the added warmth of a bib, even if they are full of holes. With Joe taking a rare sabbatical, I took over team selection for the week and picked the following teams –

• Bibs: me, the Guvnor, Simon Gas, Dan, Boro Dave, Sam
• Non-bibs: Steve A, Alex, Danny, Alan, Gooner Ian, Wing Commander Will

So six-aside, which meant that the chill December air quickly became irrelevant as everyone had to start running around rather more than is customary. The team in colours must have been energised by the absence of the layer of warmth afforded by the bibs, as they ran out 4-3 winners. Alan bagged a hat-trick - two of his goals being real opportunist’s efforts, as he pounced on a clearance that flew across the area and passed it first time into the net; the goal which turned out to be the winner came courtesy of an underhit backpass that he intercepted and finished, despite complaints that he was in the area, (he wasn’t).

At the other end Boro Dave and Dan posed the greatest threat and formed a potent partnership, scoring all three of the bibs’ goals. The opening goal from the bibs was a real peach; a festival of movement and one touch passing saw Boro Dave ping the ball to the bottom left hand corner after receiving a delightful pass from Dan. After the game Simon Gas was full of opprobrium for yours truly, as I apparently mis-controlled a “defence-splitting” pass which neither I nor anyone else could recall. It seemed to be open season on my good self, as the Guvnor also felt moved to mock my efforts on goal, despite originally opining that I had been unlucky to miss with a curling right footed effort. Two pints of lime and soda later he was positively scornful.

Aside from Paul’s mocking derision of my ability to shoot on target, other highlights from the Old Fountain’s Head included Boro Dave’s controversial assertion that the Stone Roses’ Second Coming is a superior record to their legendary eponymous debut. With just two Fridays left to play before Christmas – there are no plans currently to play on Friday 23^rd, although Simon Gas and I did discuss this (I had visions of a Tron-like encounter between the two of us – Simon versus Simon, as it were - with perhaps a turkey apiece in goal (assuming the Guvnor’s available, wink wink) – conversation turned to Christmas parties. Simon Gas has suggested the Bierkeller in Islington, so for those of you available on the 16^th, which out for more news.

Until Friday, Blog-a-Bloke: checking out.

One in the eye for youth

After the veritable feast of last week’s seven-minutes a pop footballing smorgasbord, it was back to the more mundane bread and butter of regular Friday night action. What looked initially like a energy sapping game of six aside morphed into a far more congested game of eight versus eight after the introduction of Yev, seemingly running on central Ural time, and two youngsters (‘having the time of their lives’, as they always say to the mascots): young Sam and Khalid. The somewhat curious decision was taken to put both teenagers onto the same side, meaning that the team wearing bibs featured two Sams (one young, one not-quite-so-young), in addition to Mick, Andy, Simon Inkpen and Geoff. I’ve missed someone out, but I’m jiggered if I can remember who.

Lining up in colours were myself, Simon Gas, Big Dave A and his brother Steve, Joe, Wing Commander Will and Ian, lurking dangerously up front in the traditional goalhanger position, (also known as the ‘Spizz role’) alongside Yev.

Perhaps unsurprisingly the fluidity and vim of two pairs of teenage legs told over the course of forty minutes, with Khalid opening the scoring after an Alan Hansen-defying pass across the back from Simon Gas was intercepted. Khalid also rifled in a second from an acute angle and smashed a third past yours truly. It wasn’t all one way traffic, however, with Yev poaching a goal following some defensive uncertainty and Ian Gooner taking a great goal which went like a tracer bullet into the bottom corner. WC Will also struck a post and Steve had a chance to score, but just failed to keep his shot down having done well to control a rising ball.

On that subject, I was the subject of some unfair criticism from Ian Gooner, who opined that my first ten touches had all ballooned up in the air. Rubbish. My first touch was a first time cushioned pass to which never left the deck. He was obviously too far away to see properly, mired as he was on the edge of the area.

Despite getting back to 3-1 and 4-2 a breakaway saw Mick steer the ball past the keeper with a first time shot which left the colours with too much to do. In terms of talking points, perhaps the main one was the ‘injury’ to Khalid’s right eye, following a challenge from Steve A. The ball was won cleanly enough, but Khalid screamed in agony and went down clutching his right eye in the manner of a latter-day King Harold. Close inspection revealed that, as suspected, the eye was a bit red, although that seemed to be more due to the fact he kept rubbing it while moaning about his vision being affected.

I think the final score was 5-3.

Little to report from a packed Old Fountain’s Head this week, aside from Andy’s generous round of whiskeys to mark his final appearance of 2011.

One final thought; Rest In Peace, Gary Speed.

Until next time…

Dargan Cup 2011

Here’s the promised second part of last week’s big match round-up, as promised by the Guvnor. Thank you for your kind words about the black team of which I was part – we were perhaps too cautious in the first game and paid the price for conceding two late goals against the greens and the blues. Anyway, on to the main business…

The second Dargan Cup took place last Friday evening, with five teams of seven(ish) fighting for the Jules Rimet-style trophy that accompanied last year’s inaugural tournament to commemorate the fact that Mr. Sam Dargan had found a wife.

Three of those teams – the greens, the blues and the blacks – were made up of the various characters who typically play from 7.00 pm to 7.40 pm, with the other two – the whites and the red and white stripes – coming from the 8.00 pm to closing time crew (at that’s what time they usually appear in the pub).

Props to Ian Gough for organising the round robin tournament, which saw each team play one another once. With just seven minutes for each match, the scorelines looked understandably binary, with a proliferation of 1-0, 0-0 and 1-1 scorelines. As the games unfolded a clear pattern emerged, with Team 4, i.e. the whites, winning all but one of the round robin games (a 0-0 draw with the black team. Clearly, the yin and the yang balanced on this occasion). With ten points from their first four games the whites – I’ll capitalise them to make their achievements seem more impressive – The Whites made the final, where they awaited the winners of the semi final between the greens and the blues. The greens, many people’s tip before the start, including big names like Yevgeniy, Alex from Stoke and Big Dave, found themselves facing the prospect of penalties to make the final and seek vengeance from their earlier smiting by The Whites. Sadly, the wizard of the Potteries followed the path of so many legends of English football and failed from the penalty spot to send the Blues through, (as they made the final they too can earn Proper Noun status).

White versus Blue saw an end to the binary system as goals from the Theo Walcott lookalike and Gooner Kev saw the Whites take the trophy, meaning that for the second time in its two year history the Dargan Cup belonged to the 8.00 pm crew. Actually, it belongs to the Old Fountain’s Head, assuming possession is nine tenths of the law, but there you go.

It was sad to see intra-team bickering from the Blues as the final whistle approached, with Mick giving Sam some verbals, which was a bit off considering the reason we were all there. What can you say; it’s a passionate game.

For the record, the final table stood as follows:

1. First place: White Team, aka ‘Get Back & Defend’ (Team Four) 10 points; winners of the final
2. Runner-up: Blue Team, aka ‘Simon and the Cruyff turns’ (Team Two) Six points; losing finalists
3. Third place: Green Team, aka ‘Geoff's around the pitch wanderers’ Six points; losing semi-finalist
4. Fourth place: Black Team, aka ‘Aiton's High Kickers’; Four points
5. Fifth place: Red and white stripes, aka ‘Lags Eleven’ [they looked a bit rough]; Two points
   

Some members of Lags Eleven and other miscellaneous participants from other teams played on into the Friday night; I’d already got changed to get to the pub (the comments on the semi-final came via hearsay and post-match interviews). A cracking turn-out at the tournament for the inevitable post-mortems; many thanks to all those who made the effort, despite not playing regularly due to childcare commitments and injury.

And so on to 2012’s tournament… here’s to you, Mrs. Dargan.

This is just a prologue to the main match report of Gooner Simon!!

Last Friday was extraordinary. There was a veritable blizzard of emails between the various members of the Dargan Cup teams over bibs, colours etc. They included a bombshell email from Blades Andy about the possibility of a German tour in February. Seven guys have already committed while there will be no WAGs to avoid the disastrous World Cup campaign of the English team when their wifes and girlfriends went on shopping sprees designed to increase further Germany's current account surplus.
The actual Dargan Cup was a resounding success brilliantly organised by Big Ian G. with
an amazing 36 players turning up on time. I got a couple of games, one improbably leading the attack for the Blues, which we actually won. In the first game Big Ian made an amazing save sticking out a leg to keep out a deflected shot, which could have led us to lose 2-0 and miss out on our eventual place in the final.
I thought the Black Tops had a very creditable performance, not losing one of their four games, scoring two goals and actually taking the courage to rotate their goalie. The Greens were very pleasing to the eye with Alex, Yev and Ross carrying out waves of attacks. However, the Blues got to the final to represent the 7pm teams courtesy of our only outfield goal when Alan Morg.'s speculative shot down the middle was helped in by the opposition goalie and by a save from Gashead Simon in a penalty shot-out against the Greens.
This blog was originally started to chart a possible team visit to German involving punk star Spizz. If the Frankfurt visit comes off, I hope Spizz can come although he is into all things Italian at the moment. Unfortunately, he missed the Dargan Cup but sent his good wishes!!
Gooner Simon said he would do the match reports. I missed some of the play because I had to go and find a match ball, which had been kicked out into the bushes. However, I thought the two players of the tournament were Alan Morg., who could have got a possible Golden Boot award, if was not for a stunning, diving save from Blades Andy onto the post, and Lyall, who played for the White Team, who deservedly won the Dargan Cup.

PS. Just to give our blog readers some info. In the past month there have been 71 pageviews from the Netherlands, 69 from Germany, 53 from the United Kingdom, 22 from the United States and 12 from Georgia. Your interest is very much appreciated. Best regards from Gooner Simon, the Guvnor and Spizz.

Scottish goalkeepers, plus Dargan Cup preview

Apologies for the delay in getting this posted; I spent the majority of Monday evening and Tuesday alternating between my settee and my toilet with a nasty bout of vomiting and diarrhoea. The whole experience has left me somewhat discombobulated, so you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t accurately recall all of last Friday’s game.

The bibs rang out 4-2 winners with Yev doing most of the damage for the bibs with at least two goals, one of them a trademark howitzer from an acute angle that managed to wrong foot Simon Gas between the sticks. At the other end Dave A stood firm in goal, bar one uncharacteristic blunder that brought all of those 1970’s jokes about Scottish goalkeepers flooding back like a BBC2 nostalgia show. Playing for the colours were Joe, still picking the teams with great aplomb, as well as luminaries like Andy, Steve A , Ian Gough (goalhanging with great effect) and the aforementioned Simon Gas.

In terms of other memorable incidents, Andy was the victim of a very harsh handball decision on the edge of his own area, although this lead to very little; a few minutes later Steve A hurtled out of goal – and his area – and conceded a free-kick. Simon Gas, Steve’s team-mate, later admitted it should have been a penalty, but decided not to say anything as his team were losing.

Boro Dave, are you reading this?

And so to the Old Fountain’s Head, where preparations for Friday’s Dargan Cup began apace. As I write there are three provisional teams, (see below), with the following rule changes for the big night:

- The ball will not go dead when the back boards are hit
- There is no direct back pass to goal keeper

I think you’ll agree there’s plenty of scope for both calamity and comedy, particularly as people get progressively tired the longer the night wears on.

Join me next week for a full review of the second Dargan Cup, currently residing behind the bar in the pub.

	Team : Aiton's High Kickers	Team : Geoff's around the pitch wanderers	Team : Simon and the Cruyff turns
	Black Tops	Green Tops	Blue tops
	Stephen Aiton	Alex Charnley	Keir Mcumiskey
	Danny Woodier	Dave Aiton	Michael Kavanagh
	Dave Landos	Yevgeniy Zenchenko	Alan Morgan
	Simon Inkpen	Ross Bicknell	Ian Gough
	Will	Andy Moore	Simon George
	Ian Geary	Geoff Pruton	Sam Dargan
	Simon Jarvis	Joe cox	Alex friend Dan
			Paul Tanner

Of riders, raincoats and redundant language

There is something genuinely odd about the fortnightly rhythm of people turning up to play on a Friday evening which means that one week there’s enough players to fill a stadium, (never mind two teams), while the next week it’s akin to organising a kick around on the deck of the Marie Celeste. Last Friday was definitely more like the former than the latter, with two teams of eight; for the first time in a few weeks there was no need to pad out the numbers with some of the footballing young guns that appear like midnight mushrooms whenever there’s a sniff of a (free) game.

Lining up for the bibs were Boro Dave, Dan, Andy, Paul ‘The Guvnor ‘ Tanner, Sam, Keir and the mercurial Geoff while the team in colours comprised Big Dave, Alan, Joe, Alex, Ian, myself, Simon Gas (who spent much of the game in goal) and Simon Inkpen (leading to the so-called ‘Old Street Simon Conjunction’, whereby all three Simons appear on the same team). As ever, many apologies if I have missed anyone out.

Yev played the first twenty minutes for the team in colours and the second twenty minutes for the bibs. Mick was also scheduled to appear, but was delayed by a late story for his employer the Financial Times, no doubt something to do with the Hellenic fiscal meltdown.

The final score was 4-2 to the team in colours. Alex (who else) opened the scoring for the colours and other goals from Joe, who was ploughing a lonely but productive furrow out on the left and (I think) Yev saw them take a 4-1 lead. Yev definitely scored the final goal of the game to make it 4-2: I am sure of this as I was in goal at the time and was unable to see the ball until it appeared goalside of Big Dave. It is never easy to switch horses half way through a game and props to Yev for both agreeing to take the reins for the bibs and for displaying such effective footballing equestrianism. What an appalling analogy.

And thus to the Old Fountain’s Head where Mick lay in wait, having finally finished his day’s work. It was one of the more interesting evenings I’ve spent in there of late, as discussion veered from the John Terry race row to the differing approaches taken by the former axis powers to their war-time history in the aftermath of the Second World War, and on to the post-colonial legacy in Zimbabwe. At this point Andy shared a fascinating anecdote about filming Robert Mugabe on a visit to a school in the early 1990’s before he accompanied Yev on what can only be described as a lascivious lap of the pub to catch sight of a young lady that the Ukrainian Lothario had spied from his perch in the corner. (If you’re reading, Mrs Andy, I can only say that he was lead astray). There was just time for Mick’s Peter Falk impression in tribute to Simon Gas’s fawn overcoat which made him look, variously, like a private detective, a rakish secret agent from the swinging 60’s and a flasher before the evening ended with a debate about social class and accents and a Latin tutorial from Mick.

As the FT man might say, bis pueri senes, (old men are twice children).

Rumble in the urban Jungle

Another week, another match report and another struggle for players, which in the wake of last week’s mob scene came as something of a surprise. Simon Gas and Joe managed to get us to seven aside by recruiting young Sam, Yusuf, a lad called Mark (I think) and the big Gooner with the Jack Wilshere shirt. The teams lined up thusly; Bibs: Young Sam, Big Dave, Yusuf, Alex, Mark, myself and big Wilshere. Colours: Joe, Simon Gas, Boro Dave, Yev, regular Sam, Dan and someone else (apologies, mystery man).

I think most felt that the team in bibs were a shoo-in for the win and they duly took the lead through young Sam, who passed the ball past Simon Gas in goal. But the team in colours equalised, much against the run of play, when a shot from Boro Dave took a massive deflection wrong footing Big Dave in goal. And although the Bibs had most of the possession they over elaborated terribly in front of goal, passing when they could have shot and missing the target when they did elect to shoot. Young Sam alone could have had at least four goals. The team in colours played the classic Rumble in the Jungle rope-a-dope trick and with strikers as dangerous as Yev and Boro Dave they scored two more to make it 3-1 before Joe completed the scoring from a free kick which the team in Bibs ought to have closed down, (taking nothing away from Joe who had an excellent game).

The Bibs continued to amass possession, but with a three goal cushion the colours defended deeply and frustrated the Bibs, who lacked the teeth to finish off what was at times sublime passing football. So 4-1 it finished – the puncher had beaten the boxer.

Sadly it was not as easy to recruit young lads to drink with, so it was a fairly tame evening in the Old Fountain’s Head, with just four drinkers present, although Big Dave came down after finishing his stint with the eight ‘o’ clock crew.

Can the Can

Compare and contrast - from last week’s game, where Simon Gas was forced to draft in some local lads to make the game up to more than five aside, Friday’s game had a veritable cast of thousands playing: with 9 (nine) players on each team the pitch looked like the set of Ben Hur. In fact, such were the numbers that Paul ‘The Guvnor’ selflessly substituted himself after the arrival of Yev for the first time this season (Yev being fashionably late, as ever).

I usually try to list the players on each team, but with eighteen players to get through that might be a bit dull; also, Alex brought in a few new faces and I’m not too sure what they were all called, (I know there was one chap called Tim but beyond that I haven’t got a Scooby).

With so many players and so many pairs of legs, the play at times resembled the legendary Folies Bergère doing the can can, with legs lifting and falling as the ball ricocheted between boots, ankles, shins (knees and toes, knees and toes) and probably squeaked for mercy. That said, the game itself wasn’t half bad and ended one apiece – Boro Dave opened the scoring for the team in colours when following some good work down the right he shot first time into a goal that was fairly unguarded as yours truly remained rooted to the near post. Clear chances being at a premium owing to the forest of defenders around either goal it looked like that could prove enough for some time, but Yev eventually poached a deserved equaliser for the team in bibs after a suicidal pass from Sam reached Yev on the edge of the D. Vulture-like, he rammed the ball home.

I think it’s fair to say that at the rattle for the end none of us felt like we’d played for more than 20 minutes, let along 40, but they say time flies when you’re having fun.

Finally, I can’t let the week’s blog pass without some mention of the weekend’s extraordinary Premier League action. Goals galore, red cards brandished, open goals missed – and Mario Balotelli setting fire to his own house. The Manchester derby score was arguably a worse result for Man U than the 8-2 caning they handed out to Arsenal, given that they were playing at home with their first choice 11 against the nearest rivals, but any thoughts of schadenfreude from me were tempered by the thought of what City might to do to Arsenal given that we lost to by six goals to a team that has now lost by five – by my reckoning Arsenal will lose 11-2 on the 18th December.

The miracle of Old Street

It’s been a while since Paul has asked me to write the post match blog, but I am always happy to wax lyrical about Friday night football. I see that since the end of last season there have been two posted blogs: one ranting about my beloved Arsenal and one commenting on last week’s 4-2 encounter which heralded the return of the prodigal Paul.

Last week’s encounter saw Simon again struggle for numbers – Wherefore art, thou, footballers? – so in addition to myself, Spizz, Simon Gas, Andy, Paul, Joe (who has turned into Team Selector par excellence), Alex, Big Dave, Danny, Alex’s Welsh mate Dan we also had guest appearances from young Sam and Yusuf. The team in bibs roared into a handsome lead as Alex gave his customary Man Of The Match performance, running the show from back to front and scoring four (I think) of the goals. His team-mates included Andy, who selflessly took no less than three turns between the sticks, myself, Spizz – who was uncharacteristically profligate in front of goal – Joe and Yusuf. At 5-1 ahead the team in colours, comprising Simon Gas, Sam, Big Dave, Danny and Dan and Paul managed to pull one back to make it 5-2, at which point Danny later admitted he was hoping they could make the score look a bit more respectable. Chances continued to come thick and fast for the team in bibs with Spizz unable to hit a cow’s arse with a microphone stand, Joe lifting one over from the edge of the D and myself hitting post and bar and drawing a great save from Simon Gas.

At the other end the side in colours managed to pull another back to make 5-3, before either Yusuf or Alex made it 6-3. Surely game over? Somewhere in the midst of all this came one of those world-stops-turning moments where Paul pounced on a loose ball in front of goal and drove the ball toward the far post. Time slowed down; continents stopped drifting; London pigeons paused in midflight; Big Dave screamed ‘It’s in!’. It wasn’t. The ball span back off the post, clipped Andy’s heels in goal and came to rest tantalising close to the goal-line. But not close enough. Time sped back up; continents groaned back into action; the pigeons shat on the roofs of Old Street; Big Dave turned around and fouled someone.

With around five minutes left Alex, selflessly, nobly, tragically, offered to relieve Andy from his latest stint in goal. The score at that stage stood at 6-4 to the time in bibs. Five minutes later the team in colours had conceded three goals in a festival of negligent defending, appalling tracking and incisive passing and finishing from Sam and Dan which cut the bibs into smithereens. Alex came out of goal in a desperate attempt to equalise before the rattle, but to no avail.The miracle of Old Street was complete, even without Paul's near miss.

Paul had written a blog on the 24^th August moaning about Arsenal’s inability to sign new players who weren’t French; he might have written an anti-Arsenal piece about our unrivalled ability to implode and there was something positively Wengeresque about the bibs’ late capitulation. Having said that, if someone other than me and Andy had offered to go in goal (hello, Spizz!) we would have won.

Until next week...

We went down 4-2 last Friday following Spizz double.

Last Friday I came back after a long delay following a lack of fitness. Our side was kept in the game by Alex but we went down 4-2 following a Spizz double. The punk star was in dogged form after being close a few times. We tried to mount a come-back and hit the bar. However, Big Dave was very well-organised at the back for them. Other solid performances came from Gooner Simon while Gashead Simon made a fantastic diving save for us, which at the time kept us in the
game.

My rant against the Gooners!!! The Guvnor

I am sorry to say that I am going to have a rant against the Gooners just before the crunch
European League game against the Italian team Udinese. I went to the game at the Emirates
(still commonly known as the Library) between Arsenal against Liverpool and I have been to happier funerals as we witnessed the dismantling of the Arsene Wenger dream. The Gooner manager seems to have an obsession of getting in Francophone players and the disciplinary
record of 88 sending offs over 15 seasons is not good. When Pimpong went, it was obvious that Liverpool would stroll to a victory. Perhaps Kenny Dalglish had to overpay to get Carroll etc but
at least he is in the market for good players. Arsene seems to want to buy inexpensive French players and turn them into superstars but players like Henry and Pires are few and far between.
It was not good that the leading U.S shareholder in Arsenal, Kroenke, had to fly over to tell
Wenger to get on with the sale of Nasri. Also, Fabregas should have been sold at the beginning of
the close season so they could buy reinforcements at leisure.

Manchester United bought quickly this summer and the transfer acquisitions are handled (I think) by David Gill, who just gets a shopping list from Sir Alex Ferguson. Also if players don't
want to play for Ferguson or if they cause much trouble they are just shipped out. The Fabregas
transfer was just so draining for Arsenal.

However, I was very impressed with Liverpool players like Adam, Jose Enrique, Suarez and Flanagan. But it could have been a different result if Nasri scored in the first half after a great run while Van Persie just shot at Reina from a cross when he should have scored.

I have'nt talked to any of the Friday night players with the exception of Gashead. We are going for a quick sifter this Friday to discuss the prospects for the coming season, which starts on
September 2nd. All are invited. Hopefully, Spizz will be at something approaching full fitness and players like Stevo and Boro Dave are less allergic to doing their stint at goal. Otherwise I will be moaning on about a discount.

End of season 2010-2011

So, another season of Friday night football ends. Last week’s final game saw a 4-1 victory for the team in bibs, despite the side in colours taking a first minute lead. Andy ‘the Vulture’ swooped ominously onto a delicate through ball from (I think) Mick and after skipping past Paul slammed in a shot past Sam in goal. That was as good as it got for team in colours, however, as despite the efforts of such footballing luminaries as Boro Dave, Mick, Big Dave, Joe and Simon Gas - and a near monopoly in midfield – the combined firepower of Yev and Ross did the damage up front for the team in bibs. 4-1 didn’t really tell the full story of what was a competitive game, but Big Dave’s decision not to take either Ross or Yev as striker proved decisive and although the bibs hit the metalwork and saw plenty of the ball, they couldn’t make that pressure count.

Yev got at least bibs’ goals two of the goals to sign off in style for the Summer, with Ross also appearing on the scoresheet. As Sam opined after the game, it was victory for an innovative 4-0-4 formation. Watch out for it next season.

And so to the real business of the day, as after a brief stop in the Fountains Head for some aperitifs we headed for the Red Dog Saloon in Hoxton Square, (losing Boro Dave and Big Ian for a short time for reasons unclear). The thirteen or so footballers present proceeded to demolish a bewildering array of red meat and chips, with Boro Dave taking on something called the ‘Devastator’. I can’t find details of what this leviathan of the burger world contained, but suffice to say that it looked as if it would ‘devastate’ your waist line for the foreseeable future. There was some sort of challenge associated with the burger’s consumption which entailed getting through a milkshake and large fries, but Dave eschewed such frippery and stuck to the meat.

After the first three pitchers of lager disappeared in record time it would appear that at least three of us took it upon ourselves to order two more, with the net result that we ended up with enough beer to refloat the Cutty Sark. Inevitably, it all got drunk, alongside some digestif whiskeys. At this point our behaviour lurched into the realms of boorishness, as in response to another table of diners singing ‘happy birthday’ we broke into a series of songs extolling the virtues of Simon George: from the ubiquitous ‘one Simon George’ to ‘Simon George on the wing’ to ‘Oooohhh, Simon Simon; Simon, Simon, Simon, Simon Geo-orge’. The staff told then told us to shut up, not unreasonably.

And what had Simon done to warrant such adulation? In addition to organising another year of football fun on Friday evenings, he had picked up the tab for 13 gourmet burgers and an ocean of lager. Truly, a Prince among men. After some toasts to absent friends and then our wives and girlfriends Danny deservedly picked up the gong for player of the season to unanimous acclaim.

Until August, here’s to the British Summer and most of all to Simon.

Next goal wins!

It’s been a long time since I heard that phrase used in a context other than a Ron Manager-style nostalgia-fest, but I heard it on Friday night and the next goal duly won. On an evening when the British Summer seemed like a cruel joke and with the scores at 10-5 to the team in colours, Boro Dave suggested that we finish playing with the next goal, as it had become apparent that the 7.40 crew had cried off due to the monsoon enveloping north London. A hoof forward resulted in an over-the-head free kick off of Dave A and Ian Geary tapped the ball sideways for Steve A to rifle in the bottom right hand corner of the net and decide the match in favour of the team who were losing 10-5.

That was, I think, Steve A’s hat-trick on the night (he also hit the metalwork a couple of times, once with a shot that literally sang off the crossbar and soared high into the air) – Danny (who I thought was man of the match) bagged another for the team in bibs with Ross also on the score-sheet. The other bibbers were myself, Andy and Joe up against Dave A, Simon Gas, Paul, Yev, Boro Dave, Mick and Simon Inkpen. Yev and Dave terrorised the bibs with some characteristically menacing forward play and both bagged at least a brace, albeit with the aid of some goalkeeping slips from myself (mind you, the ball was so wet it felt like it had been greased with margarine). With Mick pulling the strings in midfield it was a tiring night, although the bibs showed much determination to come back from 5-1 at one stage and with better shooting may have got nearer the ten goals that the colours scored.

One of Yev’s goals was one of those acute angle finishes that appeared to have bent the known three dimensions, although the ball did appear to pick up backspin having come off Andy’s arm. That said, there was at least one goal scored at the other end that slithered through the keeper’s arms on a night that was as wet as an otter’s pocket. In fact, so heavy and relentless was the rain that by eight o’clock I felt like I was wearing chain mail (and played as much, to be fair).

With the golden goal ending proceedings on the field we repaired to the Fountain’s Head where talk centred on next Friday’s end-of-season gala evening which this year will take place in an American diner in Hoxton. Simon Gas has stated with some gravitas that this place has a ‘Chilled Out Vibe’ – I can’t imagine there are too many instances when Simon would use the word ‘vibe’, although I expect he deploys the adjective ‘chilled’ on a regular basis when ordering his butler to prepare a bottle of Chablis for dinner.

So, until Friday, when we can experience the Chilled Out Vibe in all it’s glory.

This post comes entirely from hearsay in the pub!!

Dear Readers, this post comes entirely from hearsay in the pub because last
Friday (June 12th, 2011) I went to Westminster Cathedral to the ordination of
five former Anglican vicars to the Ordinariate. This is a special ministry invented
by the current Pope, Benedict, otherwise known as the Panzerkardinal. This ministry
allows Anglican vicars, even if they are married, to be fast-tracked into the
Roman Catholic Church. This is despite the tinsy-weensy problem that the Universal
Church exacts a rule of celibacy from normal Catholic priests. Did I say normal?
I should have said real Catholic priests.

In any event, the two hour service started at 5.30pm so no way could I get to the game but I could amble along to the pub to get the post-mortem. The game ended
4-3 after the winning team was losing 1-3 at one stage. Apparently, there was
a bit of hand-bags between Big Dave and Boro Dave (the clash of the Daves).
If I was there I could have put my conflict resolution skills to good use
(I have not really got any!!). I don't even know if Spizz played or not.

I hope to play tonight (I have'nt been rotated yet!!) and I hope to get a three quid
discount on a) my bipolar disorder, b) my cancer, c)nobody passes to me and d)
a small honorarium for doing the blogs, although I would share the specific element
of the discount with Gooner Simon, who does excellent blogs.

Next week is our last game before the summer break and I think we are going to
some new American burger joint in Hoxton, which will be a change. Usually for
any end-of-season meals we tend to go to a curry and then complain it was a load of rubbish.

Last week saw a pulsating 2-2 draw!!

For the first time the Spizz irregulars managed to pick two matched and fair sides. It was a bit hot and sunny with Danny the
Diplomat actually playing with a baseball hat in the second half when we changed ends; an event which young Sam described as unprecedented!!

The first goal came when Mick K. with pure Brummie skill drove a rising left-foot shot early from a free-kick pass. It was a wonderful goal only marred by the fact that Mick did not come to the pub afterwards to talk it through. One factor was that I was Mick's marker and should have been a lot tighter.

This goal came after a long period at 0-0. We came storming back with Alex getting the equaliser with a bouncing shot while Danny got us ahead with a lovely long-range
shot. Perhaps we could have secured a convincing win if Joe had his shooting boots on but at least he got into the positions. I set him up in a central position and Joe could have chosen left or right but it was not to be. Big Ian said I had bottled it and should have got a shot off. However, Joe was in the far better position and
I had my back to goal.

The equaliser came dramatically when Stevie A. was judged to have played the ball in the area. What happened was the ball bounced off his head when he was standing on the penalty spot. His brother Big Dave said that no way it was a penalty while Big Ian commented that he did not believe a word the Ayr United supporter said
(about close football decisions). Yev strolled up and slotted the penalty in the top corner.

Spizz is playing in North London this Saturday check the website www.spizzenergi.com
while my local cafe is holding an art exhibition Saturday June 25th. This is
Chase Lounge, which is located at 129 Chase Side, Enfield, EN2 6NN.

Still no luck on the discount but the last match of the season is on June 24th and maybe I will have better luck in September.

20/05/2011: 2-2

A more competitive game this week, with last week’s mathematically challenging encounter a distantly weird memory. The team in colours took a two goal lead through Yev, back from his travels, before the side in bibs rallied to make it two apiece, both strikes coming through Alex who clearly hadn’t let Stoke’s FA Cup final defeat dent his confidence. 2-2 it finished, making it an easier game to report on. Dave A had stayed in goal for most of the game, urging on a team including his brother, Joe – who contrived to miss a hatshop full of chances (including one where he managed to put Simon Gas on his arse before coming over all Arsenal and overegging the pudding) – as well as Danny, Geoff, myself and the aforementioned Yev, who was also slightly profligate in front of goal.

The team in bibs boasted a twin strike force of Ross and Spizz – roll n rock, if you will – although their goals came from Alex in midfield. The rest of the bibbed team comprised Ian Geary, Hugh, Simon Gas and Simon Inkpen.

More busty barmaids in the Old Fountain’s head this week, as you’d expect with Summer hurtling towards us. From what I could gather, the post-match talk centred around Arsenal’s future chances of success without a change of manager, West Ham’s relegation and the fact Yev’s wife no longer buys him beer because they are married. Them’s the breaks, as they say.

Quantum Football

Following a four week hiatus as a result of Royal Weddings, religious holidays and visits to Cornish in-laws I returned to the Friday night football fray last week to see the newly svelte(ish) form of Spizz for the first time since September; the Prodigal Punk returns. Spizz took up his customary position of goalhanger centre forward par excellence alongside myself, Steve, Ross, Joe, a denim-clad Mick (looking even more like a Top Gear presenter than usual), Hugh and Keir. Collectively, we made up what is arguably the worst team ever to take the field at Finsbury Leisure Centre.

The final score may have been 11-1; it may also have been anything from 13-1 to 16-1. As you can imagine, it was difficult to pick out one goal in particular, or even one goal scorer. Boro Dave bagged at least two, as, I think, did big Ian. I certainly remember one first time finish from Ian that flew in. I am reliably informed that Alan got four goals, while Danny had to make do with a hat-trick. Frankly, Stephen Hawking would have fancied his chances of getting on the score sheet by the end – there were two goals, one from Danny, which appeared to have defied the laws of physics. Come to think of it, perhaps Stephen Hawking was involved. I tried to tackle Boro Dave as he shaped to shoot only to divert the ball past whichever schmuck happened to be charged with keeping goal for us at the time - I'm not still not sure how. By the end of the game the team in colours had reached a higher state of footballing consciousness; the players had only to conceptualise the notion of a goal using some form of collective mental synchronicity and the ball would zip effortlessly across the pitch and ping off a low flying pigeon, or a defender’s elbow and nestle happily in the corner of the net. Sheer quantum football.

Against this brand of soccer alchemy there was little the team in bibs could do. The one goal we did manage came courtesy of a trademark daisy cutter from, inevitably, Spizz which at least gave the quantum footballers pause for thought, however brief. As the rattle sounded Simon Gas opined that the sides weren’t that unbalanced – perhaps not in terms of the known three dimensions, but given the awesome cognitive power at their disposal it was like trying to down a fighter jet with a spud gun.

Was this a one-off, a once in a generation occurrence akin to the passing of Halley’s comet, or will next Friday see a new array of physic weaponry? Only time, such as it exists, will tell.

We are a couple of match reports behind!

I will try and get Gooner Simon to write up last Friday's match report but we are a couple of reports behind. The previous Friday we lost 6-1 when the opposition led by Gashead Simon and Danny (Liverpool FC) picked the teams. Simon has a blacklist of players he won't play with, although he might deny it. This selection policy led to a mismatch and Big Sam complained during the game that a lot of his colleagues could not trap a bag of cement. We could have got a few goals back if it was not for a couple of horrendous misses while Big Dave also missed a penalty when he hit the underside of the bar and the ball bounced out.

Spizz was again absent through injury but the star performer was probably Will, who combines pace with a willingness to make the right pass. He is not a regular player but obviously Gashead Simon had Will on his side.

Sorry about the delayed post!!

The last game before the Good Friday and Royal Wedding breaks saw my team sliced
open by Alan Morg. while their defence was well-marshalled by Mick K. I did not really
get into the game but at least the kit is washed for tomorrow's turnout. Still missing
Spizz!!
We had Big Dave and Alex play well for us but it took us ages to get on the score sheet
and we eventually ran out 5-1 or 4-1 losers. I realise I should take notes.
Sorry to see Sheffield United relegated and our thoughts are with you, Andy, at this
time.

Are you Tony in disguise?

I have omitted to write anything about the last three Friday night games, although I note that Paul posted something about the dreadful mismatch a few weeks ago which finished 9-2, (Yev doing most of the damage). Given that Gashead Simon has given me the mantle of Team Selector I take full responsibility, although rather like Tottenham in the Bernabeu on Tuesday everything that could have gone wrong did go wrong that week. I wish I’d been on a stag do in Madrid, let’s put it that way. The trauma rendered me wordless for three whole weeks. Sadly, the same cannot be said for ‘Arry Redknapp and his son Jamie, who opined after seeing his father’s team receive a thorough gubbing in Spain that he “knew his Dad fairly well”. I’m sure Mrs Redknapp is pleased to hear that.

The following Friday – I make that March 25^th – saw a seven goal thriller. Unbelievably, I scored the winner for the team in bibs. Asked to talk through the goal afterwards, I said

“I was too tired to run back when yet another failed attack broke down. Then the ball broke to me following a tackle in midfield. There was no-one within 20 foot of me and I kicked the ball past Ian”.

That week saw Ross bag a smart hat-trick, despite Dave A’s usual goalkeeping heroics. All other memories have fizzled away…

Last Friday’s game ended 5-3, if memory serves. Pick of the five goals was a beautiful finish from Mick, who ran across the edge of the D and stabbed the ball into the roof of the net with a nonchalant flick of his right boot. I was in goal at the time and had a wonderful view of the move. Yev, obviously, was also amongst the goals, the best of his haul being a rifled finish from an acute angle after some soft shoe shuffling out on the left.

Alan bagged one for the losing side, gleefully pouncing on a loose ball after I had palmed the ball away from goal. The major news after the game was that Gooner Ian has refused to play on the same side as Alex any more, following allegations that the midfield dynamo won’t pass to him. Ian was so incensed by the lack of service from the Stoke man that he unilaterally decided to play outside left, a role he took to with some aplomb, latching on to a loose through ball to side foot home a first time shot. The goal wasn’t enough to placate the Uxbridge-born man, however, and he remained officially Cheesed Off after the match.

Last Friday was the first game after the clocks went forward and to mark the occasion the boys spent the first hour or so drinking al fresco, before moving inside when the pub had cleared. No sign of Mick’s favourite barmaid this week, although Yev did consider making friends with a Dutch girl as the evening wore on. In other news, Alan, Ian and I discussed the prospects of a London team winning the European Cup for the first time, (a dream I’ve had on behalf of my beloved Arsenal since English teams were readmitted into Europe in 1991). The consensus seemed to be that Chelsea had a great chance – after this week they’ve certainly got a better chance than Arsenal or Tottenham.

Finally, I saw a photo of Croatian legend Robert Prosinecki today (see above). I thought it was eerily reminiscent of a temperamental film director who was playing football with us until fairly recently. I’ll let you be the judge.

I did not play last week cos the nipper was down from uni.

I tried to get some reasonable conversation out of him but it was an uphill struggle. The previous week I spent most of a miserable time in goal where we got whacked 9-2 (I think). Yev and Alan Morg. cut us apart in defence, where since we did not track back we just did not have enough numbers. Big Dave was the incredible hulk/bulk in goal for them so for a long time we could not get on the score sheet. I thought Alex was bound to score one time but Big Dave pulled off a magnificent save. With Spizz being a long-term absentee and Mick K. resting, we did not have that cultured West Midlands play on the field. In addition, Gashead Simon was in Madrid on a stag-do, taking in the local derby. Amazingly Big Dave collected the money and we all paid up. I thought about asking for a discount since I spent so long in goal but I would have had to admit that being in goal was better than suffering triangular passing. I expect Gooner Simon will come up with his particular take on the game filling the blog with saucy pictures as well as giving a report on the post mortem in the pub. I think I am going to miss the next few Fridays so my limited fitness will go for a burton but at least I won't be in goal!!!

Two left feet

Last Friday’s game saw Simon Gashead take a week’s sabbatical from the action, in part because he’d managed to bring two left boots to the game. Insert your own joke here.

With Simon suited and watching from the sidelines, there ensued a lively eight-a-side which finished 5-2 to the team in colours. The team in bibs comprised Boro Dave, Ross, Joe, and Keir (so no shortage of fire power), as well as myself, Danny, Ian West Brom and Simon the Drummer up against Yev, Sam, Dave A, Mick, Alex, Andy, Paul and Ian Gooner.

The team in colours raced into a two goal lead after goals from Sam and Yev, the first of which I should have saved, with the second being a fierce effort from the Ukrainian which flew into the top right hand corner. When the team in colours scored a third, again through Sam, it looked like turning into a rout but the side wearing bibs managed to get a couple of goals back through Boro Dave (a tidy finish) and the goal of the game from Keir – a trademark finish into the roof of the net from an acute and unlikely angle - before weary legs and wayward finishing allowed the bibs to extend their lead into an unassailable 5-2 advantage, with Yev eventually ending the match with a brace.

The general consensus seemed to be that the teams were reasonably fair, but perhaps not as much as has been the case in recent weeks. On reflection, the team in colours maybe had a bit too much in midfield, but there was plenty of action in and around the bibs’ penalty area. No matter.

Not too much to report in the pub this week, certainly not in the first hour and a half anyway. It would appear Jim’s recruitment and selection policy as it relates to employing barmaids hasn’t changed in 2011. Amen to that.