Spiritual Pivot

One more week goes by in our new home, Coram Fields, and one more game takes place on Friday evening at the fashionable hour of eight ‘o’ clock. Last week’s fun and games saw a slightly lower turn out than the preceding Friday, with the two sides lining up as follows:

Bibs: Boro Dave, Nick, Mick, Ian West Brom, me, Ross, Paul, Ian West Brom

Colours: Joe, Danny, Phil, Simon Gas, Liam, Ian, the young Irish lad with the beard who’s name I definitely learn for next week’s blog, Paul

The more observant among you will note Paul’s ability to appear in two teams at once. He hasn’t reached a higher level of spiritual consciousness which enables him to transcend the boundaries of the known dimensions and inhabit a kind of non-linear astral plain, (although he may well have done by the time he’s read this), but rather he acted as the pivot around which the game turned. (That this pivot was based around Ross leaving the field for a toilet hiatus somewhat spoils this quasi-mystic analogy, but there you go).

I believe the final score was 5-3 to the Colours, despite them being a man (a deity?) short for a little over half the game. Danny – by common consent the Man of the Match – once again opened the scoring with what it behoves me to describe as a ‘trademark’ header, albeit one that left him feeling positively brained by the percussive conjoining of leather and noggin. Simon Gas guilty once again of pumping the ball up too hard.

The Colours took a 2-0 lead before Ross’s sojourn in the Coram bathrooms, and upon his return and with the Bibs' ranks bolstered by the addition of Pivot-God Paul they promptly drew level. At this stage the Bibs were playing some good, if somewhat over-elaborate, football with Nick and Boro Dave once again combining well with Ross heading up a dangerous looking front three.

However, the Bibs seemed to lose shape and the Colours went on to retake and then extend their lead through Ian and Phil. Ross and Nick both had excellent chances toward the end of the game, but Danny was diving down amidst the boots to head off danger and despite a late third goal for the Bibs they had left themselves with too much to do. 

A final word here for Paul, who managed to spirit himself into the opposition area and find himself totally unmarked at the back post not once, but twice, although sadly on both occasions his wraithlike ability to creep in unnoticed was compromised by the more prosaic shortcomings of his left foot.

And so to the pub, which this week was once again The Friend At Hand behind Russell Square. Despite leaving just after 10.00 pm to catch the train I didn’t get home until past midnight as a result of the various failings of Network Rail. I might start drinking in the changing room to save on Valuable Drinking Time. 

Until Friday, here is a somewhat preposterous link to a potential for next Friday’s post-match bevy http://www.themarquiscornwalliswc1.co.uk/.