The miracle of Old Street

It’s been a while since Paul has asked me to write the post match blog, but I am always happy to wax lyrical about Friday night football. I see that since the end of last season there have been two posted blogs: one ranting about my beloved Arsenal and one commenting on last week’s 4-2 encounter which heralded the return of the prodigal Paul.

Last week’s encounter saw Simon again struggle for numbers – Wherefore art, thou, footballers? – so in addition to myself, Spizz, Simon Gas, Andy, Paul, Joe (who has turned into Team Selector par excellence), Alex, Big Dave, Danny, Alex’s Welsh mate Dan we also had guest appearances from young Sam and Yusuf. The team in bibs roared into a handsome lead as Alex gave his customary Man Of The Match performance, running the show from back to front and scoring four (I think) of the goals. His team-mates included Andy, who selflessly took no less than three turns between the sticks, myself, Spizz – who was uncharacteristically profligate in front of goal – Joe and Yusuf. At 5-1 ahead the team in colours, comprising Simon Gas, Sam, Big Dave, Danny and Dan and Paul managed to pull one back to make it 5-2, at which point Danny later admitted he was hoping they could make the score look a bit more respectable. Chances continued to come thick and fast for the team in bibs with Spizz unable to hit a cow’s arse with a microphone stand, Joe lifting one over from the edge of the D and myself hitting post and bar and drawing a great save from Simon Gas.

At the other end the side in colours managed to pull another back to make 5-3, before either Yusuf or Alex made it 6-3. Surely game over? Somewhere in the midst of all this came one of those world-stops-turning moments where Paul pounced on a loose ball in front of goal and drove the ball toward the far post. Time slowed down; continents stopped drifting; London pigeons paused in midflight; Big Dave screamed ‘It’s in!’. It wasn’t. The ball span back off the post, clipped Andy’s heels in goal and came to rest tantalising close to the goal-line. But not close enough. Time sped back up; continents groaned back into action; the pigeons shat on the roofs of Old Street; Big Dave turned around and fouled someone.

With around five minutes left Alex, selflessly, nobly, tragically, offered to relieve Andy from his latest stint in goal. The score at that stage stood at 6-4 to the time in bibs. Five minutes later the team in colours had conceded three goals in a festival of negligent defending, appalling tracking and incisive passing and finishing from Sam and Dan which cut the bibs into smithereens. Alex came out of goal in a desperate attempt to equalise before the rattle, but to no avail.The miracle of Old Street was complete, even without Paul's near miss.

Paul had written a blog on the 24^th August moaning about Arsenal’s inability to sign new players who weren’t French; he might have written an anti-Arsenal piece about our unrivalled ability to implode and there was something positively Wengeresque about the bibs’ late capitulation. Having said that, if someone other than me and Andy had offered to go in goal (hello, Spizz!) we would have won.

Until next week...

We went down 4-2 last Friday following Spizz double.

Last Friday I came back after a long delay following a lack of fitness. Our side was kept in the game by Alex but we went down 4-2 following a Spizz double. The punk star was in dogged form after being close a few times. We tried to mount a come-back and hit the bar. However, Big Dave was very well-organised at the back for them. Other solid performances came from Gooner Simon while Gashead Simon made a fantastic diving save for us, which at the time kept us in the
game.

My rant against the Gooners!!! The Guvnor

I am sorry to say that I am going to have a rant against the Gooners just before the crunch
European League game against the Italian team Udinese. I went to the game at the Emirates
(still commonly known as the Library) between Arsenal against Liverpool and I have been to happier funerals as we witnessed the dismantling of the Arsene Wenger dream. The Gooner manager seems to have an obsession of getting in Francophone players and the disciplinary
record of 88 sending offs over 15 seasons is not good. When Pimpong went, it was obvious that Liverpool would stroll to a victory. Perhaps Kenny Dalglish had to overpay to get Carroll etc but
at least he is in the market for good players. Arsene seems to want to buy inexpensive French players and turn them into superstars but players like Henry and Pires are few and far between.
It was not good that the leading U.S shareholder in Arsenal, Kroenke, had to fly over to tell
Wenger to get on with the sale of Nasri. Also, Fabregas should have been sold at the beginning of
the close season so they could buy reinforcements at leisure.

Manchester United bought quickly this summer and the transfer acquisitions are handled (I think) by David Gill, who just gets a shopping list from Sir Alex Ferguson. Also if players don't
want to play for Ferguson or if they cause much trouble they are just shipped out. The Fabregas
transfer was just so draining for Arsenal.

However, I was very impressed with Liverpool players like Adam, Jose Enrique, Suarez and Flanagan. But it could have been a different result if Nasri scored in the first half after a great run while Van Persie just shot at Reina from a cross when he should have scored.

I have'nt talked to any of the Friday night players with the exception of Gashead. We are going for a quick sifter this Friday to discuss the prospects for the coming season, which starts on
September 2nd. All are invited. Hopefully, Spizz will be at something approaching full fitness and players like Stevo and Boro Dave are less allergic to doing their stint at goal. Otherwise I will be moaning on about a discount.

End of season 2010-2011

So, another season of Friday night football ends. Last week’s final game saw a 4-1 victory for the team in bibs, despite the side in colours taking a first minute lead. Andy ‘the Vulture’ swooped ominously onto a delicate through ball from (I think) Mick and after skipping past Paul slammed in a shot past Sam in goal. That was as good as it got for team in colours, however, as despite the efforts of such footballing luminaries as Boro Dave, Mick, Big Dave, Joe and Simon Gas - and a near monopoly in midfield – the combined firepower of Yev and Ross did the damage up front for the team in bibs. 4-1 didn’t really tell the full story of what was a competitive game, but Big Dave’s decision not to take either Ross or Yev as striker proved decisive and although the bibs hit the metalwork and saw plenty of the ball, they couldn’t make that pressure count.

Yev got at least bibs’ goals two of the goals to sign off in style for the Summer, with Ross also appearing on the scoresheet. As Sam opined after the game, it was victory for an innovative 4-0-4 formation. Watch out for it next season.

And so to the real business of the day, as after a brief stop in the Fountains Head for some aperitifs we headed for the Red Dog Saloon in Hoxton Square, (losing Boro Dave and Big Ian for a short time for reasons unclear). The thirteen or so footballers present proceeded to demolish a bewildering array of red meat and chips, with Boro Dave taking on something called the ‘Devastator’. I can’t find details of what this leviathan of the burger world contained, but suffice to say that it looked as if it would ‘devastate’ your waist line for the foreseeable future. There was some sort of challenge associated with the burger’s consumption which entailed getting through a milkshake and large fries, but Dave eschewed such frippery and stuck to the meat.

After the first three pitchers of lager disappeared in record time it would appear that at least three of us took it upon ourselves to order two more, with the net result that we ended up with enough beer to refloat the Cutty Sark. Inevitably, it all got drunk, alongside some digestif whiskeys. At this point our behaviour lurched into the realms of boorishness, as in response to another table of diners singing ‘happy birthday’ we broke into a series of songs extolling the virtues of Simon George: from the ubiquitous ‘one Simon George’ to ‘Simon George on the wing’ to ‘Oooohhh, Simon Simon; Simon, Simon, Simon, Simon Geo-orge’. The staff told then told us to shut up, not unreasonably.

And what had Simon done to warrant such adulation? In addition to organising another year of football fun on Friday evenings, he had picked up the tab for 13 gourmet burgers and an ocean of lager. Truly, a Prince among men. After some toasts to absent friends and then our wives and girlfriends Danny deservedly picked up the gong for player of the season to unanimous acclaim.

Until August, here’s to the British Summer and most of all to Simon.

Next goal wins!

It’s been a long time since I heard that phrase used in a context other than a Ron Manager-style nostalgia-fest, but I heard it on Friday night and the next goal duly won. On an evening when the British Summer seemed like a cruel joke and with the scores at 10-5 to the team in colours, Boro Dave suggested that we finish playing with the next goal, as it had become apparent that the 7.40 crew had cried off due to the monsoon enveloping north London. A hoof forward resulted in an over-the-head free kick off of Dave A and Ian Geary tapped the ball sideways for Steve A to rifle in the bottom right hand corner of the net and decide the match in favour of the team who were losing 10-5.

That was, I think, Steve A’s hat-trick on the night (he also hit the metalwork a couple of times, once with a shot that literally sang off the crossbar and soared high into the air) – Danny (who I thought was man of the match) bagged another for the team in bibs with Ross also on the score-sheet. The other bibbers were myself, Andy and Joe up against Dave A, Simon Gas, Paul, Yev, Boro Dave, Mick and Simon Inkpen. Yev and Dave terrorised the bibs with some characteristically menacing forward play and both bagged at least a brace, albeit with the aid of some goalkeeping slips from myself (mind you, the ball was so wet it felt like it had been greased with margarine). With Mick pulling the strings in midfield it was a tiring night, although the bibs showed much determination to come back from 5-1 at one stage and with better shooting may have got nearer the ten goals that the colours scored.

One of Yev’s goals was one of those acute angle finishes that appeared to have bent the known three dimensions, although the ball did appear to pick up backspin having come off Andy’s arm. That said, there was at least one goal scored at the other end that slithered through the keeper’s arms on a night that was as wet as an otter’s pocket. In fact, so heavy and relentless was the rain that by eight o’clock I felt like I was wearing chain mail (and played as much, to be fair).

With the golden goal ending proceedings on the field we repaired to the Fountain’s Head where talk centred on next Friday’s end-of-season gala evening which this year will take place in an American diner in Hoxton. Simon Gas has stated with some gravitas that this place has a ‘Chilled Out Vibe’ – I can’t imagine there are too many instances when Simon would use the word ‘vibe’, although I expect he deploys the adjective ‘chilled’ on a regular basis when ordering his butler to prepare a bottle of Chablis for dinner.

So, until Friday, when we can experience the Chilled Out Vibe in all it’s glory.

This post comes entirely from hearsay in the pub!!

Dear Readers, this post comes entirely from hearsay in the pub because last
Friday (June 12th, 2011) I went to Westminster Cathedral to the ordination of
five former Anglican vicars to the Ordinariate. This is a special ministry invented
by the current Pope, Benedict, otherwise known as the Panzerkardinal. This ministry
allows Anglican vicars, even if they are married, to be fast-tracked into the
Roman Catholic Church. This is despite the tinsy-weensy problem that the Universal
Church exacts a rule of celibacy from normal Catholic priests. Did I say normal?
I should have said real Catholic priests.

In any event, the two hour service started at 5.30pm so no way could I get to the game but I could amble along to the pub to get the post-mortem. The game ended
4-3 after the winning team was losing 1-3 at one stage. Apparently, there was
a bit of hand-bags between Big Dave and Boro Dave (the clash of the Daves).
If I was there I could have put my conflict resolution skills to good use
(I have not really got any!!). I don't even know if Spizz played or not.

I hope to play tonight (I have'nt been rotated yet!!) and I hope to get a three quid
discount on a) my bipolar disorder, b) my cancer, c)nobody passes to me and d)
a small honorarium for doing the blogs, although I would share the specific element
of the discount with Gooner Simon, who does excellent blogs.

Next week is our last game before the summer break and I think we are going to
some new American burger joint in Hoxton, which will be a change. Usually for
any end-of-season meals we tend to go to a curry and then complain it was a load of rubbish.

Last week saw a pulsating 2-2 draw!!

For the first time the Spizz irregulars managed to pick two matched and fair sides. It was a bit hot and sunny with Danny the
Diplomat actually playing with a baseball hat in the second half when we changed ends; an event which young Sam described as unprecedented!!

The first goal came when Mick K. with pure Brummie skill drove a rising left-foot shot early from a free-kick pass. It was a wonderful goal only marred by the fact that Mick did not come to the pub afterwards to talk it through. One factor was that I was Mick's marker and should have been a lot tighter.

This goal came after a long period at 0-0. We came storming back with Alex getting the equaliser with a bouncing shot while Danny got us ahead with a lovely long-range
shot. Perhaps we could have secured a convincing win if Joe had his shooting boots on but at least he got into the positions. I set him up in a central position and Joe could have chosen left or right but it was not to be. Big Ian said I had bottled it and should have got a shot off. However, Joe was in the far better position and
I had my back to goal.

The equaliser came dramatically when Stevie A. was judged to have played the ball in the area. What happened was the ball bounced off his head when he was standing on the penalty spot. His brother Big Dave said that no way it was a penalty while Big Ian commented that he did not believe a word the Ayr United supporter said
(about close football decisions). Yev strolled up and slotted the penalty in the top corner.

Spizz is playing in North London this Saturday check the website www.spizzenergi.com
while my local cafe is holding an art exhibition Saturday June 25th. This is
Chase Lounge, which is located at 129 Chase Side, Enfield, EN2 6NN.

Still no luck on the discount but the last match of the season is on June 24th and maybe I will have better luck in September.