Welcome back to the Friday night football blog vaguely
related to the sometime adventures of legendary punk icon, Spizz.
Many apologies for the dearth of words over the past two
weeks; I resumed action last week and owing to a mental week at work and the lack
of Paul ‘The Governor’ to remind me, I completely negated my blogging duties. I
can’t remember much about Friday 14th September’s game, but I know
that a) I finished on the winning team and b) there were a lot of people
playing. Oh, and c) Dan and Alex were really good.
I took the precaution of making notes about Friday’s game –
that’s Friday the 21st, i.e. last Friday – on the Saturday morning.
As I hurtle toward a landmark birthday I have started to develop strategies to
overcome any age and/or alcohol related memory lapses.
This is what the notes say:
3-2 to The Colours
Team line-ups: too many to remember, but around 9 (nine) aside
Dan opened the scoring for the team sans bibs with a beautiful dinked shot that swerved out to the
right before swerving back in (rather like a Shane Warne delivery) and kissing
the inside of the post as it went in. I saw all of this quite well, as I was in
goal at the time. Similarly, a few minutes later Boro Dave spanked a trademark
left footed drive which I got what I believe they refer to in the game as a
“strong wrist” to, but obviously not strong enough as the ball flew up in the
air and assumed a diabolical backspin which sent it teasingly beyond my
clutches. I should say that I did make one decent save, albeit with my
testicles. I believe that the goalkeeping fraternity refer to such an
intervention as “strong balls”. They’re welcome to call it what they want, but
I shan’t be attempting a repeat any time soon.
The game then swung back to 2-2, with Yev scoring the
equaliser for the Bibs (and quite possibly the opening goal, too). The second
came via some silky interplay on the right which still left Yev with a bit to
do; he struck his shot low and unerringly beyond whoever was in goal at the
time to level things up.
With Alex and Matt, he of the tall frame and flaxen hair,
pulling all sorts of strings in the middle and Yev looking customarily
dangerous the Friday night cognoscenti were probably scenting (ahem) a Bibs
win, but the goal which settled things fell to the side in Colours in somewhat
strange circumstances. Alex, typically busy and generally Roy of the
Rovers-like, intercepted a pass on the edge of his own area that glided toward
goal. Ross, between the posts at the time, could only watch aghast as the ball
pinged back off the post and rolled invitingly out to Spizz, who calmly tucked
the ball away, despite the best efforts of Alex to put him off.
The only other notable incident was a pointless outbreak of
handbags between Boro Dave and Yev that I have no intention of trying to pick
apart here.
And so to the Old Fountain’s Head, where the soggy weather
failed to dampen the spirits of those that made it. My evening ended with Ian,
Yev and myself agreeing that no good can come discussing one’s wife’s plastic
surgeries, particularly when said wife belongs to someone else and said
surgeries relate to said wife’s priority triangle.
It’s good to be back...
