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.