New year, new rules

With the mid-season break behind us na-na-na-nineteen men reported for duty last Friday, each no doubt eager to put the corpulence of the past few weeks behind them. Among the returnees was Alex, hamstring now back in place, and Danny, who revealed that he’d been tucking into cinnamon flavoured Pringles over the festive period. Have you ever heard the like?

With so many chaps playing it’s been a bit of an effort to recall everyone, but I think I’ve got all the players, although it took me a while to recall that Goalkeeping Phil, the specialist, was with us.  The two teams were as follows -

Yellow team: Simon Gas, Alan, Ian Arsenal, Liam, Phil, me, Danny, Alex, Andy

Blue team: Yev, Mick, Ian West Brom, Steve, Bearded Nick (who’s outed himself as a Tottenham fan), Dave, Spizz, Mark, Simon Ink and Goalkeeping Phil

Despite the mid-Winter hiatus all nineteen players seemed in reasonably fine fettle and no-one’s touch seemed to have completely deserted them. Perhaps playing virtually ten aside helped people preserve energy and (ergo) accuracy with their passing, but the game remained competitive without ever really becoming stretched.

The Blue Bibs took the lead from a speculative effort from Yev that was more akin to wedge shot from a bunker than either a cross or an attempt on goal – his lob came falling out of the night sky, over Andy’s head and into the back of the net.

Alan equalised soon after, taking advantage of some defensive dithering to pass the ball past Goalkeeping Phil to level things up. I believe that Phil (the non-goalkeeping kind) then made it 2-1 to the Yellows following some nice interplay with Alan before the Blues got back on terms following a semi-own goal that pinged off the side of Andy’s head and wrong-footed me in goal.

The Yellows then retook the lead, again through Phil, and the final whistle went. 3-2 to the Yellows.

But wait! What’s that plaintive wailing from the Blues? ‘It might not be eight ‘o’ clock yet’… ‘Come on, we all need the exercise’…’It’s not as if anyone else is coming on after us’…

I was always taught to play to the whistle, but inexplicably this rule was thrown out of the window last week as a cacophony of plangent lowing from the Blues resulted in us agreeing to Keep Playing Football for an indeterminate period of time (or until the Blues scored some more goals, whichever came first).

However, the Blues were thwarted when Liam burst up field with a typically mazy run for the Yellows, and was about to ‘round’ Goalkeeping Phil when the specialist netminder brought him down outside the area.

If playing on after the final whistle wasn’t sufficiently disrespectful to the laws of the beautiful game, the Blues played on following this heinous foul – it was either a free kick or a penalty, as Phil had come outside the area - until my fellow Gooner Ian and I protested loudly enough for play to stop for the award of a free-kick from the spot were young Liam was felled.

From the resulting free kick the ball went out for a corner, (Ian Baggies with the clearance) but Alex scored from the rebound so that the West Brom man’s efforts were in vain.

Final score: 4-2 to the Yellows (aet)

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Other notable incidents include Spizz’s 50:50 challenge with Alex, which ended up with the ageing rocker laying winded on the touchline, Dave hitting the crossbar and the sight of Simon Gas gathering up all the bibs in his bag and then putting them back down again as we agreed to play on.

And so to the Skinners for the first time in 2014, where happily all the Christmas drinkers (Amateurs!) had cleared off. Good to see that no-one is bothering with this dry January nonsense… if you’re going to give up booze for 30 days for God’s sake don’t do it in January, the most miserable month of the entire year.

  a note from the Guv'nor "I was rotated Gashead otherwise I would have come to make the numbers up to twenty. I certainly needed the exercise especially after all the mince pies at Christmas, (there is a specialist bakery in Chase Side near us). Also I think I might need counselling for my pork pie addiction. Especially due to the health issues of certain meat products.

Until next time.

Up the Malabar Junction

Many apologies for the delay in posting this final Spizzenergi football blog of 2013; a combination of general bleariness, weariness and dark mornings has prevented me from feeling any sense of what the hip hop community call ‘flow’, but here’s hoping that the notes which I made earlier this week don’t let me down.

The penultimate Friday night game of the year saw a decent turn out, no doubt in part because of the curry favoured carrot dangling at the evening’s end. Simon picked the following sides to do footballistic battle:

Blue Bibs: me, Mick, Sam, Mark, Tony (for a while), Yev, Bristol Paul, Ian Baggies

Yellow Bibs: Steve, Danny, Simon Gas, Ian Arsenal, Ross, Simon Ink, Spizz, Geoff

Spizz has played far more often than he would have us have believed (does that make sense?) earlier in the season and marked the evening with a sparkling pair of new New Rocks (yours for £115) and some eyeliner. Punk’s not dead, it’s just growing old (dis)gracefully. Fortunately, he also remembered his football boots this week.

As Christmas plans were discussed in the changing rooms, Steve was among those not able to come along for the curry, as he was flying to Scotland the next day to see Ayr take on Rangers at Ibrox.

“Who are flying with?”, enquired Yev.

“Susan”, deadpanned Steve.

I’m Susan, come fly me indeed.

Pre-match pleasantries out of the way, the game began with, I think, Spizz opening the scoring courtesy of some generous defending from the Blues and a lucky ricochet. The Blues then replied to make it one apiece, probably from Yev or Tony, before Simon Ink smashed an effort high over my head and in just under the crossbar to make it 2-1 to the Yellows. 

The game was fairly even at this stage, with Tony and Yev proving a predictably potent attacking force for the Blues while the Yellows had a very solid defensive shape marshalled by Simon Gas, Steve and Danny. With the scores level at something like two-all, Tony joined the recent ranks of the hamstrung (hello, Alex and Phil) and had to leave the field – this left the Blues heavily reliant on Mick’s cultured midfield promptings with Yev ploughing a lonely furrow up front.

An honourable mention must go to the prodigal Sam Dargan, who made only his second appearance at Coram Fields since The Great Switch earlier this year. Domesticity and fatherhood have had little or no effect on his rangy and committed footballing style, (or on his waistline, the bastard).

With a man advantage following Tony’s departure the Yellows, lead up front by Ross and Spizz, buzzed around the Blues’ tiring legs and eventually stretched their lead beyond the Yellows’ reach. Yev did get the score back to within a goal after I’d deftly threaded a ball to him, but despite some cheeky near post corners from Mick that I flicked goalwards the Yellows managed to clear everything away. Yev scored one more goal, which came seconds after he’d missed a far easier opportunity from a distance of about three yards, larruping the ball hard against the crossbar.

I believe that the final score was 6-4 to the Yellows – you’ll have to forgive my forgetfulness, as owing to a late collision with Steve and his sharpened elbows, which winded me for the first time since 1987, my memory of the final few minutes of the game is slightly sketchy.

And so to the pub and then the Malabar Junction Curry House, where the following players sat down to enjoy 24 big crisps, assorted sundries and mains as well as 24 bottles of beer:

Simon Gas, me, Simon Ink, Danny, Yev, Ian Arsenal, Sam, Ian Baggies, Geoff, Ross, Bristol Paul, Mark

Simon very appropriately sat at the head of table and kindly ordered a veritable smorgasbord of side dishes and generally kept things from getting too lairy. Most importantly, he very kindly stumped up for the lion’s share of the bill, which only serves to reinforce his Prince among men status.

There is one more game on the 20^th December before we have a mid-season Winterval, resuming action on Friday 10^th January 2014.

Merry Christmas, one and all.

Dead leaves and the Dirty Ground

Last Friday’s game saw us play on the unfamiliar confines of the near pitch, i.e. the one closest to the changing rooms, on a surface that was strewn with dead leaves as the year 2013 rots to its inexorable conclusion.

The man from Bristol picked the following two teams -

Blue Bibs: Tony, Paul (following an early switch), Ian Gooner, Bristol Paul, Simon Gas, Yev (eventually), Will, Steve, Andy

Yellow Bibs: Danny, Ross (following an early switch), David, Simon Ink, Ian Baggies, Mick, Alan, me,

The ‘early switch’ to which I refer was a consequence of the Blues galloping into a two goal lead as the Yellows saw precious little of the ball in the early stages. With Danny taking the first shift in goal and the Blues starting the game with a frontline including Tony and Ross, (with Will and Steve pulling strings in midfield – Ian Baggies opined to me that the problem with Will isthat he is “too tricky”) - Simon swapped Paul and Ross with the score at 2-0 to the Blues.  

I’d relieved Danny in goal by this stage and was able to see Simon Ink complete a passage of play that saw the Yellows fail to score on a number of occasions during a frantic six yard box scramble by collecting the ball on the edge of the area and sailing a shot into the top corner to bring the score back to 2-1. Mick, who was stationed menacingly on the right touch line and David were working well in combination and created a goal for Alan and then one for David himself as the Yellows went ahead to lead 3-2. My tenure in nets ended with Tony firing a beautiful shot high over my head and into the top right corner to make it three apiece.

With David and Mick trying to keep their feet on the decaying arboreal matter on the right wing both players endeavoured to bring Alan and Ross into play and their hard work brought the Blues – and Alan – another goal. Around this time Yev arrived and as the Yellows were in front and bossing possession he duly donned a Blue bib. With a man advantage and with Yev’s strength and running the impetus swung back to the Blues, although the scores were level at 4-4 for much of the final quarter of the match. Yev eventually got his goal –the winning effort – as tired legs failed to pick up all of the Blues’ runners to make it 5-4.

At this point there was what can only be described as some Dave Aiton-esque gamesmanship from Simon Gas and Tony, who seemingly forgot that we kicked off at 7.05 and ended the match in any meaningful way by taking off their bibs and gathering the one remaining ball up (the other football had been shanked over the fence and beyond a security cordon by Ian Baggies, doughtily defending a corner). We ought to have had another few minutes, but with players taking off Bibs and walking off the pitch the game petered out, despite there being no-one waiting to come on. Five-four to the Blues it finished.

The two Ians, Simon Ink, Alan and myself then went to retrieve the ball. The Ians sensibly decided to go and speak to the Security guard responsible for manning the fence beyond which the ball sat, so despite me managing to stretch my arm underneath the fence and roll the ball toward us we made like Lou Reed and decided to wait for the man. Happily, he was a Gooner and the presence of three Arsenal fans was sufficient justification for him to throw the ball over the fence (at Alan, resplendent in his Chelsea kit).

And so to the pub. Simon Gas attempted to make a booking for the end of year Christmas curry, but sadly the restaurant was closed for a refurb. No word on an alternative venue as yet.     

I spent most of the evening in conversation with Alan and Ian (Gooner), with topics ranging from Tottenham’s implosion against Man City and the whys and wherefores of their recent transfer activity, to the health benefits of taking public transport to work versus driving to an office where you sit on your arse for eight hours, before Ian regaled us with talk of his activist youth, where he was frequently mistaken for a right-wing neo-fascist. That he often turned up at rallies sporting a shaven head, DMs and a Fred Perry shirt teamed with a Harrington jacket may or may not be an explanation.  

Football is the New Rock (and roll)

With the nights drawing in and with hamstrings twanging like a Mississippi Delta bluesman’s guitar, we have had slightly lower numbers to choose from over the past few weeks. Cue the return of legendary post-punk front man Spizz, who rode to the rescue on his push bike complete with LED lights and Spizzenergi leggings to push the numbers up to seven aside.

While Spizz would never leave the house without gelling his peroxide hair up a la Billy Idol and donning his Spizzenergi branded biker’s jacket and leggings, age comes to us all and Spizz’s memory is clearly fading fast as while he arrived with his England shorts and Aston Villa shirt and socks he had forgotten to bring any football boots. This gave us the tantalisingly comedic prospect of Spizz playing for an hour in black leather boots complete with buckles and three inch soles, aka ‘New Rocks’. Fortunately, Steve kindly agreed to let Spizz play in his trainers, which were still around three sizes too big for the diminutive New Wave hero.

And so the game began, with the following line-ups:

Blue Bibs – Tony, Steve, Ross, Will, Paul, me, Ian Gooner

Yellow Bibs – (or green, if you are Nick Beard) Simon Gas, Danny, Nick Beard, Simon Ink, Ian Baggies, Bristolian Paul, Spizz

Yev had texted Simon Gas before the game to say that he’d be around ‘half an hour late’; sadly, this turned into a full hour, so for once the sides remained as above for the full sixty minutes.

I began the game in goal and, incredibly, didn’t let anything in. The Blue Bibs’ play was built around the metronomic passing of Will, who has brought an Iniesta-like quality to proceedings in the past two weeks, breaking up play, intercepting loose balls and sparking attacks, sometimes all in one movement. By contrast the Yellow Bibs never quite got their final ball right – Spizz was handicapped by his comedy shoes, and despite looking dangerous from corners courtesy of Danny’s movement, they struggled to impose themselves.

The final score was, I believe, 6-2 to the Blues: among the Blue goal scorers was Ian, who scored from a very tight angle when everyone was expecting a cut back from the byline, Will, who finished off a great move by receiving a ball from Ian and rounding the ‘keeper, Ross, Tony and even myself. I grabbed one from a pleasing lateral move which culminated in Ross playing a nice weighted pass so I could steer the ball inside of the near post and then scored another effort via Simon Gas which spun cruelly away from the usually peerless Simon Ink in nets.

The Yellows’ two goals both came from blunders from the Blues as first myself and then Will got caught in possession playing out from the back. Danny and Spizz took advantage.

The Yellows evening was typified by a late chance that fell to Bristolian Paul, who somehow failed to connect with an excellent through ball. The miss had the Blues clutching their heads with their hands. At the other end Steve crashed a fierce volley back of the right post and then attempted to steer home the rebound with his less favoured left peg, but the Blues managed to retain enough shape at the back to prevent the scoreline running out of control.

A reasonable turn-out at the Skinners this week, with a group of drinkers including Yev, who is a victim of what is known as ‘presenteeism’, i.e. where members of staff want to maximise their presence at work by being there for as long as possible, the emphasis being on the hours clocked up rather than the work they are doing. Yev’s new job at a reputable European financial institution is putting pay to his appearances on the pitch, sadly. Hopefully this won’t be the case for too long. Topics under discuss this week included the aforementioned working hours, but also stretched to the Merseyside derby, Sunday trading hours and the luck of being born in the late 20^th century in the long post-war boom before the present issues of entering the labour and housing market became apparent.

See you on Friday…