As the unseasonably mild Autumn / late Summer weather
continued, some more players yet to take to the the field this term returned to
the fray last Friday, namely the c/Celtic pair of Liam and Mark, (fresh from
the hustings, no doubt).
The Bristolian Chef de Corps selected the following two
teams -
Blues: me, Steve, Liam, Mark, Paul, Yev, specialist
goalkeeper Phil
Yellows: Simon Gas, Mario, Daniel, Ian Gooner, Tony, Andy,
Danny, Ross
As you can see, there was a distinctly Caledonian feel to
the appropriately attired Blue team, with three Scotsman in the seven man side.
A bit like Liverpool in the 80’s (with Steve as the Graeme Souness-style
enforcer and Liam starring as Kenny Dalglish. I’m seeing Mark as a Steve Nicol
box-to-box type). Sadly, that is where the similarity with the all-conquering
Scouse side ended.
As is custom, both Tony and Yev were slightly late, with
Tony arriving just before the Ukrainian. This incremental arrival of the full
roster of players meant a slight bit of jiggery pokery as the Yellows had a
momentary two man advantage, with Daniel moved over to the Blues for all of
about 15 seconds before Yev finally arrived, scampering across the pitch complete with
cycling helmet.
The Yellows raced into a four goal lead, with the southern
European combination of Mario and Daniel combining well and communicating in
some sort of romance creole (it may well have been Italian, to be fair), which
confused the Blues’ defenders almost as much as their intricate footwork and
passing. With Ross joining them up front it made for a very taxing hour’s play;
so taxing that I didn’t realise that they actually had an extra man, which explained
why Andy kept finding himself unmarked, (much to Liam’s consternation).
In amongst the goals were both Mario and Daniel, with the
first goal arriving just before Tony and Yev. Andy smashed in number two from
the edge of the ‘D’ and Daniel and/or Mario went on to add two more before the
Blues started their impressive comeback. Mark grabbed the first for the Blue
team, scoring with a crisp shot from the outside of his right boot; Yev got one
from around a yard to the side of the left hand post after Liam had his shot deflected
off the ‘keeper and onto the post and Liam grabbed the other two for the Blues.
Unfortunately at 4-2 down the Yellows scored again, Daniel
playing a neat one-two and forcing the ball past Phil in goal from close range,
despite my forlorn efforts to stay goalside of him. With the Blues being
deficient in the man stakes to the tune of one and staring at a four goal
margin, the final score of 5-3 to
the Yellows felt like something of a moral victory.
A word must go to Tony, whose convalescence from his Alpine
sports injury continues apace – this week he sauntered out of goal and strolled
around the back four, alternating between kicking Liam and shouting at people, rather
like a splenetic pensioner patrolling his rosebushes for loose footballs left abandoned
by the errant boys from down the close.
And once more to the pub, as the incongruously warm weather
meant that there were more chairs inside the Skinners than outside. With Ian
Gooner calling it a night fairly early on (he’d been up ‘til 3.00 am the
previous evening), talk oscillated between the weekend’s football fixtures,
terrorism and acts of bravery, Charlie Nicholas and the
fallout from the Scottish referendum.
The final action of the night involved Liam and I trying to
avoid talking to a ghastly man from ‘Rhodesia’, (presumably he’d arrived directly
from 1975) who was on his way, somewhat surprisingly, to a dub reggae evening
at the Scala complete with red, gold and green t-shirt, pre-prepared chumba
party pipes and an annoying voice. The dirty bastard turned around to leave the
pub and promptly dropped his guts in mine and Liam’s body space – too much
biltong, no doubt.
Until Friday….
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