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.