Hit the North...

With Winter showing no sign of ending, I am starting to feel as if we are living in a dystopian future reminiscent of those terrifying dramas they used to show in the 1980’s about what life would be like in the wake of a nuclear holocaust. All that’s missing is radioactively rabid dogs.

Anyway, enough of the melodrama and on to the football. Last Friday saw the valedictory Coram Fields performance of one Boro Dave, or Geordie Dave for the geographically 

challenged. Sadly for Dave he was not to end up on the winning team, although he did score a goal to which I am going to apply the adjective ‘louche’. More of that anon. First, here were the teams

Bibs: Alan, Boro Dave, Simon Gas, Ross, (young, bearded) Mick, me

Colours: Yev, Mick, Steve A, Ian West Brom, Joe, new player and Ian Arsenal*

(*Ian Arsenal switched half way through)

The final score was, I think, 12-6 to the Colours, but I could be a bit off there. 

The story of the game was that the Colours made their time with the extra man count and generally organised themselves more effectively – they also benefitted from a debut performance of some promise from a lad whose name I didn’t catch but who probably made the difference between the two teams. 

Yev was obviously among the goals, but the Bibs could and should have done more in midfield to check his runs and get more bodies between him and the goal. Steve A used his strength and pace to good effect at the back to complicate life for what should have been a potent attack (Alan, Ross and Boro Dave should equal goals galore) and Mick helped dictate the tempo in midfield.

Other than a shedload of goals for Yev and the new bloke, I am struggling to recall many other scorers for the Colours, although I am fairly sure Joe stole in with a couple of sniffers’ finishes courtesy of some surgical passing from Mick.

The half dozen or so goals that the Bibs did get came chiefly from Dave and Alan; Alan got two, the second being the final kick of a game that Steve A had been trying to stop from around quarter to nine when it became apparent he was winning. An indirect free kick was knocked square to Alan and he drove it unerringly along the floor and into the corner. Boro Dave, in his swansong, also got in among them with a number of trademark scoring moves from his left foot and one outrageous flick with his standing foot that Gianfranco Zola would have been proud of. 

There was even time for one final berating of Simon’s refereeing, as well as some quite justified barracking of Steve’s gamesmanship for challenging a decision to award a free kick against him for shanking the ball well over head height.

So, good bye Dave; it’s been fun. Presumably Tony’s people have let him know that it may be safe to return to the fray, so long as we all sign waivers promising not to tackle him or look him directly in the eye. As for Dave, he’ll be planning a new life in the north east amongst his own kind, where given the amount of time he’s spent down in the big smoke he’ll probably be known as ‘Cockney Dave’. 

And finally, we would appear to have located a worthy successor to the Old Fountain’s Head – The Skinners Arms, just around the corner from St Pancras off the Euston Road. Decent beer, chairs and tables and no terrible music: all seems good.

In tribute to Boro Dave and his many goals and rants, I’ll leave you with a fellow Teesside legend who is also sorely missed...