Back in the groove...

Happy New Year, readers – last Friday was my first game of 2012. And what a game it was; I cannot recall so many people playing before in one evening – we had a team of eight playing a team of nine with one substitute. (Hang on, that doesn’t sound very fair, even with a rush goalie).

More for reasons of testing the impact of a month of alcohol, carbohydrates and poultry-based protein on my short-term memory, I am going to try and remember the two teams.

Here goes...

Bibs: Dave A, Steve A, Simon Gas, Paul ‘The Guvnor’, Yev (eventually), Joe, Ross, Sam, Alex and Wing Commander Will

Colours: me, Ian G, Dan, Danny, Mick, Boro Dave, Simon Inkpen, Andy

Not bad, eh?

Just to show I was really paying attention, the final score was 4-2 to the team in Bibs, although the colours did initially take the lead through (I think) Dan and again via a wicked tight angled finish from Mick. Cue Yev’s customarily tardy entrance and an immediate effect on the team in colours as they sought to prevent the monster from the Urals from doing too much damage. While the colours did prevent him from scoring, having to devote so much attention to him left space for their other danger men and W-C Will and Sam both found the net as the bibs eventually eased away from the team in colours.

In terms of notable incidents there was one fairly agricultural challenge on Boro Dave from Alex which left the Teesside hitman in a heap long after the ball had gone. There was also a disputed shout for a penalty, chiefly from Yev, after Steve A had taken the ball a bit too far into the box, where goalkeeper Mick blocked. Perversely, the Bibs had claimed that it was Mick who had left the area, but thankfully justice was done. Given we were a man down and also facing a team making regular substitutions that would have stuck in the craw somewhat. My chief contribution was to get away with a cheeky handball which evaded everyone’s attention except Joe.

The refurbishment at the Old Fountain’s Head seems virtually complete, roof terrace notwithstanding. Perhaps this had attracted a larger than usual non-football crowd in there, including a healthy smattering of young ladies. They must have sensed danger, as within half an hour of Yev sitting anywhere near them they’d taken flight into the north London darkness.

Until next week...