Can you hear the drums, Leandro?

After a two week hiatus I am happy to announce my return to both Friday night football action and the resulting match report duty. Last Friday’s game was one of the better matches we’ve had in recent weeks, with the relatively unusual final score of 2-2.

Simon Gas, prepared as ever, picked the following two teams:

Yellows: Nick (beard), Liam, Simon Gas, David, Andy, Tony, Steve, Leandro and Paul

Blues: Alan, Will, me, Mark, Ian Gooner, Goalkeeping Phil, Danny, Yev and Bristol Paul

I was given the responsibility of handing out the bibs and stumbled on the eighth player listed on Simon's teamsheet for the Yellow team. “’Ere, Alan’, says I – ‘What do you think that word says? It looks like Leandro or something.’ ‘I think that says Leandro’, replies the genial Irishman. After a few puzzled moments scrutinising the handwriting, along jogs Simon Gas. ‘Simon, what does that word say?’ ‘Leandro’. ‘Who’s he?’ Leandro was behind me doing up his boots. Who’d have thought, eh?

And so, eighteen men – including Leandro – took to the field.

The Yellow team took the lead with an odd-looking goal, scored by, inevitably, Leandro. Essentially, someone fired a ball in and from a distance of around two and half feet the impressive Argentine managed to poke the ball in off the crossbar.

The Yellows were worth their lead, with Tony growling commands at people, Steve lumping anyone that came near him and Liam, Leandro and Nick seeing plenty of possession in the final third. However, having specialist goalkeeper Phil between the sticks helped the Blues and they came back from a goal down to take a 2-1 lead, with goals from Alan (following a centre from Yev) and an own goal that was pretty much a replica of the Yellows’ opening effort, albeit that this time Yev’s shot careered down off the crossbar and went in off Andy’s pate.

At this stage the Blues had a good shape, with me and Ian alternating at left back, (Bristol) Paul patrolling the right hand side and Danny doing his box to box thing with characteristic alacrity. Up front, Alan and Yev were ably assisted by Will, who was pulling the strings nicely. However, the lead didn’t last and after getting away with one scare when I let the ball run in a Chuckle Brothers-esque ‘to me, to you’ style cock-up with Danny that saw Liam steal in only to be foiled by Phil in a one on one situation the Yellows equalised after the Blues gave away possession from a goalkick.

Both sides then had ample chances to win the game as a series of arguments broke out; Bearded Nick in particular seemed especially outraged by the fact that he was so busy yelling abuse at his team-mates that he’d forgotten to prevent the ball rolling over the touchline, while Tony had an attack of the vapours about another touchline call and a throw-in that looked somewhat less than legal. I've included a helpful picture in this week's report to refresh everyone's memory.

Two apiece it ended, although both teams trudged off thinking they could have won the game had their finishing been sharper and they’d spent less time moaning.

Before we head off to The Skinners a quick word about mercurial post-punk icon Spizz, who popped in before kick-off to pass on his best wishes and to show-off his new gloves, which reminded me of 1970’s children’s TV characters Itsy and Bitsy. Hopefully the great man will be back in (football) action very soon.

A decent turn-out at the pub this week with discussion topics including the plight of the England cricket team, the plight of the England football team and the plight of anyone working at Radio 1 in the 1970’s, as well as what is becoming a standing agenda item, the pros and cons of Scottish independence. In the first of an occasional series, I bring you

“The Positives for a ‘yes’ vote in the Scottish independence referendum” (please note that this blog is very much in favour of a continued union between our Caledonian cousins and the remainder of the United Kingdom): -

Not having to listen to Scottish football results on the television / radio anymore; to wit, “and we join Roddy Forsthye at Parkhead where there’s news of another goal… ‘Yes, and it’s gone to the home side’”, (oh, you do surprise me).

Yellows fail to dominate midfield and fail to track back.

Despite a one man advantage with eight v seven, the blues cut the yellows to pieces when a big gap developed between defence and attack. Rather than doing the simple ball from the wings our forwards tried speculative shots. The blues had an Argentinian debutant in Leandro, a friend of Will's, Danny, Gashead Simon, Tony, Phil B and big Blades Andy. The latter somehow kept a low shot of mine out. We kept th'e score down to four-two for a long time but the blues suddenly started scoring a hatful of goals.

The yellows had a strongish side with Yev and Steve the picks of the bunch. Nick, Mick K., Spizz, Philip, Baggies Ian and me the guv'nor. Nick got a nice side foot goal from a good low cross early in but inexplicably we stopped playing a passing game.

The blues had excellent performers in Will and Tony, while Gashead showed commendable discipline in defence with Andy. Danny was playing box-to-box. Perhaps a closer match next time when hopefully the Gooner season ticket holders Ian G. and Simon (blogger par excellence) come back to the fray.

The guv

Of (false) nines, Prosecco and Sebastian

Greetings, Spizzenergi blog readers.

Many apologies for the hiatus in match reports, but to make up for last week’s radio silence I am posting a bumper edition of the best blog about middle aged men playing football on a Friday night in central London found anywhere on the internet. (Incidentally, note that I used the term ‘central London’ there – not “central”, which the Young People are now deploying not as an adjective, but as a noun to denote what I would call the ‘West End’. As in, “’where shall we meet Barnaby this weekend, Josh?’ ‘Dunno, I think Jocasta is going central, so we could head there’”. ‘Central’ is meaningless – central where? Central London? Central Croydon? The Central Line? I’m not saying people should say they are going “up West” as if they live in Walford, but using an adjective to describe somewhere with plenty of serviceable place names (e.g. Soho, Holborn, Fitzrovia) is tantamount to semantic terrorism. Here endeth the lesson). 

First we have a match report from Friday 17^th January, with apologies for the inevitable vagueness which comes with trying to recall a game from longer than one week ago. However, I did make a few notes last week which I am hoping will lend some semblance of accuracy to the report.

First of all, the two teams:

Yellows – me, Ian Gooner, Mick, Alex, Danny, Simon Ink, Halid, (and Paul, following Yev’s arrival)

Blues – Yev, (eventually), Steve, Andy, Simon Gas, Mark, Liam, Beardy Nick, Paul

I can remember lobbing a ball up and over the Blues’ defence for Simon Ink, playing in the False Nine position, to chase onto but I don’t think that particular attack yielded any goals. Simon Ink generally held up play well, even if he didn’t get more than one goal, but the Yellows won the game chiefly as a consequence of Alex and Mick bossing things in midfield, aided by Alex’s fellow Stokie Halid (sp.?) at right back. The two aforementioned maestros combined well for one goal – I took a quick throw-in following a trademark, lung-bursting, box-to-box run from Danny and Mick chested the ball down for Alex to power past the keeper. Ian Gooner also marked his landmark birthday (more of which later) with a decent finish from a tight angle.

At this stage the Yellows were comfortably ahead, before Yev arrived and prompted a late rally for the Blues, with Steve doing some poaching for at least one goal. I am not sure that Yev actually scored himself, but his appearance did bring some respectability to the final score which was 8-4 to the Yellows.

I’m acutely conscious that I have only described three of the twelve goals there, so many apologies to anyone who had a thirty yard scorcher omitted from the report – I love you all.

Where else to begin with the post-game pub round-up than the glorious spectacle of middle aged men sipping flutes of Prosecco in the Skinners Arms? Many thanks to Ian for his generosity and many happy returns for 50 glorious years – here’s to at least another 50. Ian’s birthday celebrations somewhat overshadowed anything else that evening, but for those of you who didn’t see it, here is a genuine jobapplication I brought along to the pub for the general enjoyment of anyone whoread it.

 

And so on to last Friday, the 24^th January. Such were the myriad changes throughout the game that I’ve listed two line-ups: one as of 7.00 pm and one at the final whistle.

Teams at the start of the game –

Blue Bibs: me, Alex, Alan, Seb, Simon Gas, Phil, Dave, Geoff

Yellow Bibs: Steve, Beardy Nick, Andy, West Brom Ian, Dave, Danny, Paul, Will, Spizz,

Teams at the end of the game –

Blue Bibs: me, Alex, Alan, Simon Gas, Phil, Dave, Geoff, Spizz

Yellow Bibs: Steve, Beardy Nick, Andy, West Brom Ian, Dave, Danny, Paul, Will, Seb

Last Friday’s match was graced by the presence of a Teutonic gentleman named Sebastian, or ‘Seb’ in the player’s argot, who is some sort of colleague of Andy’s. Apparently Seb’s brother has played in the Bundesliga and the family talent for fussball was immediately apparent as he, along with the Potteries dynamo Alex, were chiefly responsible for the Blue team roaring into a five goal lead.

Alex’s name troubled the scoresheet on at least one occasion, but the most memorable effort was the Blues’ third goal; a long clearance upfield was flicked off Phil’s head and the dashing German controlled the ball on his chest and took it past Geoff in goal before swivelling and volleying from an acute angle in all one movement.

After the fifth Blues goal Simon Gas decided to share Seb’s skillset and moved him onto the Yellow team. That they then rattled in 4 goals in just over five minutes – Will and, yes, Seb, doing most of the damage - is not merely testament to Seb’s prowess, but also the inability of the Yellow team to count properly, as Simon had unwittingly given the Blues a two man advantage. Nick was the man with the requisite number of fingers to count up the numerical disparity between the two sides.

The Blues were duly augmented with punk legend Spizz and with another outlet up front the Blues managed to regain both their shape and composure and saw out the remainder of the game without conceding again. There were a couple of extraordinary misses by the Blue team – one from Dave, who contrived to put the ball the wrong side of the post from a distance of about ten inches, and a similarly wasteful effort from Geoff, although he later claimed that he missed on purpose having been the perpetrator of some ungentlemanly conduct. I’ll let you be the judge, dear reader.

I scored what you might call a rare headed goal with the last touch of the game to make the final score 7-4 to the Blues. Alan floated in a perfect corner which glanced off the side of my head and past Andy in goal, although I should mention that Spizz cheerfully boasted that he’d nobbled the ‘keeper. Given Andy is about a foot taller than Spizz, I’m saying the goal was good.

And so onto the Skinners Arms. No bottles of Prosecco this week, but a decent turn out, including Seb and his lady friend, who as I left the pub just after ten was party to some outrageous flirting from Spizz, who seemed to have his entire showbiz career stored on his iPhone for the Fraulein’s delectation.  

There’ll be another break before I’m back on blogging duty, as it’s my wife’s 30^th birthday this Friday. Until then.

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.