Football: bloody hell

Another two weeks have slipped by since the last match report(s), chiefly as I was in Cornwall last week for the ancient and annual Furry Dance in Helston, (as well as visiting the outlaws inlaws). The game on the 4^th May was chiefly memorable for a nasty ankle injury to Alex; ten minutes before the end of the game he turned his ankle very painfully and hobbled off with the assistance of Andy and Simon Gas, although such was his contribution that he still finished on the winning side. His ankle had swollen like a ripe fruit by the time our game had finished and Simon ‘Medicine Man’ Gas reckons he’ll be out for around six weeks, making it touch and go whether he’ll be back this side of the Jubilympics. 

Last Friday’s game was a taxing six-aside affair, with the two teams lining up as follows:

Bibs – me, Simon Gas, Yev, Steve A, Danny, Paul,

Colours – Dan, Mick, Cycling Ian, Sam, Joe and Samir Nasri*

(*Not sure what his real name was, but he had the physique and touch of the gifted French turncoat)

If those teams look a little unsided that’s because they were, although Simon and Joe made the somewhat mystifying decision to swap me and Ian Gooner just before kick off, (Ian last seen chugging around Paris on this racer for charity), which had little difference in terms of on-field impact, although a considerable impact on the Tale of the Tape. 

The Colours rattled out a 7-2 scoreline, with the Bibs innovative 3-0-1 formation set to become a footnote in the Chapter in coaching manuals entitled ‘Comedy’. Despite having two excellent defenders in Simon Gas and Danny and the ever-dangerous Yev, the Bibs were clearly lacking in midfield and although Yev grabbed a couple of goals some bashful (and extremely wayward in Steve’s case) finishing meant that the Colours eventually eased away with goals shared almost equally between the six players. Mick provided the midfield platform for Dan to run amok, grabbing two goals including one which was passed into the bottom corner from some distance. Ian was also on the scoresheet, wrong-footing yours truly in goal with a near post finish that rolled back the years. That Parisian air has clearly leant Ian’s play some élan. Nasri’s all round vim and energy was also rewarded with a goal, as he prepared for Sunday’s title decider at the Etihad.

Unlike the 4^th May, where a factional split developed, a bacchanal fissure if you will, between myself, Dan, Andy, Ian and Alan on the one hand and Yev and co on the other, with the former heading to the White Lion and the latter to the Old Fountain’s Head (Simon Gas, ever the diplomat, had a pint in both camps), last Friday saw a reunification of the Players as we all headed to the Old Fountain. The roof terrace is now complete and open, although given that we are never going to get there before 8.00 pm on a Friday the chances of us ever drinking up there are akin to Joey Barton being sent to Syria to broker a peace agreement. 

A word about yesterday’s extraordinary denouement to the end of the Premier League: blimey. City’s title win cannot be good news for anyone other than City fans in the long-run, but there was no denying the drama and sheer heart-thudding excitement of Ageuro’s 95^th minute winner. My highlight of the day was seeing Phil Jones’s gormless and child-unfriendly face crash in disappointment. Schadenfreude indeed.