Have a smashing Christmas!

The weather last Friday night was anything but festive, with an uncharacteristically balmy evening culminating in al fresco drinking. I think that we had something similar this time last year, so proof of global warming would be appear to be incontrovertible, in Judd Street at any rate.

  

Another round-up for you to compensate for recent radio silence, with three games to catch up on, two of which I played in and one I’m relying on second-hand reports for.

Three weeks ago now we had an eight asider which lingers long in my memory for the principal reason that I scored a goal in it – Grazie, Mario, for the assist as I drilled a ball in from the edge of the area which the Italian dynamo had cushioned and stopped dead. This was one of a few high points for myself that evening, the others coming in the form of what I am going to describe as a cavalcade of assists for Mario and Patrick as the team I was in, captained by Danny, ran out winners by something like 6-4. Other participants that night included Mick, on the opposing team to his son, a tardy arrival from Andrea which had the Blue team in a flap about perceived fairness and Tony, who was grumbling menacingly on the edge of the D and generally being fairly excellent on the ball.

The full line-ups, for the sake of posterity, were as follows:

Yellows – Ian Baggies, me, Andy, Joseph, Simon Gas, Mario, Danny and Patrick

Blues – Paul, Ed, Tony, Charlie, Ross, Alan, Mick and Andrea

With a weekend away with the in-laws leaving Simon Gas in full control of proceedings, including team selection, the second game in this week’s round-up finished with the Muswell Hillbilly on the winning team – plus ca change. Apparently he did agree to make a change to the suspiciously wonky looking starting line-ups, with one diminutive and highly prolific striker being swapping for another shortish man who scores lots of goals, (Mario and Liam passing on the halfway line like ships in the night).

And so to last Friday. Here are your two teams:

Blues – Patrick, Simon Gas, Steve, Ian Gooner, Mario, Tony, David

Yellows – me, Danny, Bristol Paul, Alan, Liam, Paul, Michele, Joseph

In what was by unanimous consensus a very even game, and therefore a victory for The System, the Blues triumphed by the odd goal in eleven.

Danny started off in nets, as is custom, and I think his tenure in goal saw the first score of the night as a breakdown in communication between him and Bristol Paul saw Patrick steal in to slot home. That was the first of at least three goals for the tall LSE undergraduate, another coming after he took advantage of some goalkeeping largesse from myself to lob the ball over my head from all of about eight yards and another after his stretched his long legs to ease past me and fire home. Patrick and Mario took a while to get going, but by the midway point had established your classic big ‘un and littl’un partnership, pinging passes between and betwixt and generally using the space to terrific effect. A little further back Tony was prompting and poking the ball around. Someone other than Patrick (probably Mario) managed to shoot past Bristol Paul, who had unwittingly unsighted me so that I did not see the ball until it slid inexorably past me and into the goal.

Not that the Blues had it all their own way. Liam and Alan also enjoyed a prolific evening with the Caledonian maestro opening his body up to slot home from an acute angle in one excellent move and being unceremoniously upended by his compatriot Steve for Danny to score from the penalty spot. Alan also scored two (?), the second a classic poacher’s finish after the ball had ping-ponged around in the penalty box. Although Simon Gas received some brickbats from his team-mates for slightly errant kicking from goal, he pulled off a number of decent saves, one (rather irritatingly) from me as I volleyed a shot which had been cut back from the byline by Alan. Grrr.

Final score: Blues 6 – Yellows 5

To be honest, a combination of me feeling very out of breath and a blizzard of goals in the middle of the game meant I was labouring under the tragic misapprehension that it was actually 6-5 to the Yellows until Alan broke the news that we’d lost the game. Given that we now live in a post-truth world I think we can all believe what we like.

And thus to the pub, where Steve, Ian, David, Simon, Paul and Bristol Paul all enjoyed a few pints outside. Topics under discussion included mods versus punks versus what Ian assures us where known as ‘Jam Boys’, Christmas itself and lastly the gentrification of Forest Gate which has led to artisan cheese stalls selling wares to bourgeois arrivistes, shops selling overpriced and utterly superfluous hipster tat (this is also something I’ve seen in Crystal Palace) and the bizarre phenomenon of independent coffee shops hustling punters to leave pound coins in a jar to buy coffee for the homeless. So now you know why your classic tramp has a can of Super Kestrel or White Lightening on the go – it’s to take the edge off all of those heritage flat whites they’ve been mainlining.

I’m away this weekend but will await reports of the return of the Christmas curry night with baited breath. Have a great Christmas with you and yours, have a wonderful New Year and here’s hoping that 2017 isn’t quite so batshit mental as 2016.

PS Don’t forget to text Simon Gas with your nominations for player of the year.

Cheers!

PPS If you’re in the mood for nostalgia, I spent a thoroughly enjoyable 25 minutes on Sunday watching this trip back down memory lane. The past is indeed a different country.