Hopes gubbered

With our leader otherwise engaged on urgent family business in Buckinghamshire, the roles of Chef de Mission and Bursar were filled this week by Danny. All eleven characters arrived – eventually – and I picked the two teams. An odd number meant one team had an extra man and the sides were as follows -

Bibs: Ian Gough, Danny, Mark, Liam, Paul, Simon Inky

Colours: Steve A, Mick, Nick, Geoff, me

As is becoming habit, one team rather ran away with things – the consensus seems to be that on a pitch so much larger than we have been used to the margins are that bit finer and even the slightest imbalance in the sides can prove costly. So it proved again on Friday, as the Colours stormed into a 3-0 lead before their nominal captain Danny came out of goal. The Bibs couldn’t make the extra man count soon enough and although the Colours’ legs began to tire after the forty minute mark their lead had stretched into the eight or nine goal region by this stage, so even a late flurry of goals would only have lent a modest sheen of respectability to proceedings.

The story of the game was that Steve’s muscular defending - and striking – allied with Mick’s vision proved too much for the Bibs who despite having the younger legs could not retain sufficient shape to punish the Colours. Steve and Mick both weighed in with at least a hat-trick apiece*, with Geoff also featuring on the score sheet following a characteristically mazy run. Nick and myself also got in on the act, although my goal was almost chalked off for being over head height, which opens up an interesting philosophical debate about our head height rule.

I believe that Danny got at least two of the Bibs’ goals; the final goal of the evening was definitely scored by Ian Arsenal following a slide-rule pass from Danny.

Final score: 11-4 to the Colours

And once more we went to the Skinners Arms; I didn’t stay for more than two pints, so am not sure how the evening ended, but talk seemed to focus on talk of Barnet’s final game at Underhill and Villa’s chances of avoiding the drop.

This week’s final word goes to Tony Gubba, who (as far as I am concerned) is the man responsible for the term “apiece” (*see earlier) entering the footballing lexicon. I have even found a link that illustrates the point (listen at 7:25). Farewell, you old Gubba.