Welcome back
to the Friday night football blog, after a somewhat lengthy Easter break.
With our
spiritual leader absent overseas, (he’s currently smoking rolled up carpets in
a souk in Marrakesh), I was handed responsibility for not just team selection,
but for key retrieval, subs collection and bibs and balls allocation. It is
very important to allocate someone three balls each week. One week we gave Yev
this responsibility and he was asked on the way home if his surname was
Oojanickabollokov.
Here are
your two teams:
Yellows: me,
Simon Ink, Andrew, David (eventually), Mario, Ross, Patrick and Ed
Blues: Ian
Gooner, Bristol Paul, Danny, Mick, Nick, Peter, Liam and Charlie
No fewer
than three no-shows this week – Tony, Yev, and Paul all failed to arrive.
Perhaps Tony had joined Simon in his North African sojourn, contemplating life
over a strong coffee and jazzy cigarette. Perhaps Yev was there, too, admiring
the svelte frames of the local street vendors. Perhaps Yev was just otherwise
engaged. As Doris Day sang, Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps.
To help
balance the sides Ed was co-opted to the Yellows’ ranks and when David finally
arrived he made the teams eight aside. Game on.
The Yellows
were struggling to see much of the ball in the early exchanges, with the Blues’
man advantage paying dividends as they took the lead. But the Yellow team had
potent weapons in young Patrick, who was linking up nicely with super Mario, to
say nothing of Ed ‘The Cat’ in goals, who repelled countless shots from Nick
and Peter, much to the growing frustration of the Blue team. Mario scored a
marvellous equaliser for the Yellows following a slaloming run from Patrick –
who I think it’s fair to say has a Good Touch For A Big Man – and a deft and
unfussy cutback from the byline.
I believe
that Patrick himself put the Yellows ahead before Peter or Nick got the Blues
back on terms. With Liam making life difficult for Andrew and David, who were
doing sterling work at the back for the Yellows, the game was delicately
balanced. In hindsight the turning point came when Liam and Andrew clashed
leaving the Scotsman with a gyppy ankle. Liam then went in goal. Despite his
injury he pulled off at least one tremendous save from Mario but could do
nothing to prevent Simon Ink from putting the Yellows 3-2 ahead after some
great play saw Romford’s answer to Keith Moon get the ball out from under his
feet to nudge home from all of about twelve inches. Not that he was finished,
mind; soon after came his party piece as Simon hammered home from wide of the
left with a vicious, swerving effort that managed to snake past Liam in goal.
4-2 to the Yellows.
Back came
the Blues, with Nick, Peter, Ian and Charlie flooding midfield and creating
plenty of chances. Bar one late goal from Peter, however, David, Andrew and
particularly Ed in goal managed to keep everything out and the Yellows duly
prevailed by the odd goal in seven. Against all odds, a fairly even and decent
game.
A relatively
controversy free game – which is always a good thing – with the sole incidence of
contention surrounding two handball shouts, one given against Charlie and one
not given against me after I vehemently objected to being penalised for
handball after Nick blasted the ball at my right hand, which is down by my
side, from a distance of about eight inches. It was handshakes all round after
the game.
No pub for
me this week, as I was out all day at Wembley on Sunday and wanted to keep my
powder dry, but a more comprehensive account of this coming Friday will arrive
after the conclusion of the Bank Holiday weekend.
