Super Mario scores wonder goal, a thing of sublime beauty.

Our landscape architect Super Mario, from Genoa and a friend of Will's, scored possibly the best goal the Guv'nor has ever seen in his 32 years of five, six, seven, eight and nine a side on astro pitches last Friday. Mario went for a dribble and about thirty yards out shot the ball with little backlift. The ball went straight as an arrow into the net and goalie Gooner Simon said he just didn't see it.

This was the goal of the century during a game where the standard was considerably raised the the Kavanagh family with Daddy Kavanagh and his son Patrick playing for the Blues while young Stan played for the Yellows. The youngsters never misplaced a pass and kept on running into good positions. Patrick was unlucky hitting the post twice and late on the game he made a curved pass to the Guv'nor on the right. The near 56 year old Guv'nor (www.mufc.com) saw Daddy Kavanagh lurking with intent in the penalty area and did a lofty cross to beat Gashead Paul. Showing great technique the Fenian kept the ball low to make it six three to the Blues. Mick K. has later claimed that it was the ankle of God.

The scoreline did not really reflect the run of play. Moany Tony (Spurs) was excellent for the Yellows while Alex (Stoke) and Gooner Simon (www.Arsenal.com)
missed good chances. The Guv'nor tried to block Moany Tony and got clattered to the ground and momentarily lost his glasses..He was surprised how strong the slight advert maker was. Gashead Simon tried to keep it tight for the Yellows but there was a lack of tracking back and Yev (I like Chicks) Zench. scored a clinical hat trick. Star players in a good team Blues performance were Danny Liverpool in goal who made a series of improbable stops, while Simon Ink. sacrificed his box-to-box game with his semi-circular dribbles by staying as centre half making some important blocks. Super Mario tucked in left defence and made tackle after tackle. Tottenham Nick actually improved his passing, which is usually not his strong point. Mick K. also did an outrageous dummy, which took out two players in the game.

The blog is normally written by Gooner Simon but he going to Thailand for three weeks and he and the Guv'nor discussed the problems Farangs have with the local girls, who snare you and then produce kids or boyfriends from their local village.

Afterwards players retired to the Skinners but for a bit of action Khalid, Alex, Mark, Yev and the Guv'nor went to a Wetherpoons pub, which was not one. The black bouncers Aaron and Uko refused to let Alex bring his bike in so we stayed outside chatting until eleven and then went inside. The Guv'nor started hugging dreadlocks Aaron after discovering he was a Roman Catholic and went to a church in Balls Pond Road and he did the same to Uko, who was of Ibo descent and was a Christian. There was a Roman Catholic feel to the evening when Scottish Mark (Airdrie and Celtic) revealed that he had a parish priest and a nun as relations while Alex (Stoke) said he was a Catholic as well.

In a completely outrageous move, the Guv'nor invited all and sundry to his Mum's house to watch the Manaus game between England and Italy in the World Cup in June. There would be four bedrooms spare and we could have tents in the garden for any overflow. This genuine and authentic offer was derided by all and sundry as an attempt by the Guv'nor to see players in their pyjamas.

Khalid was very interesting. The PhD in soil technology attached to UCL said the best game he ever saw was Cardiff and Stoke at Ninian Park where the local fans were throwing bricks around but the Potteries team won two nil. The Guv'nor said he had been to one of the five towns and thought it might have been Newcastle.

The Italian theme of the evening was continued when the Guv'nor chatted to Alessandro, who was a Milan barman and new friend  He also tried to chat up four hot Milanese chicks on behalf of Yev (do you want to meet a Russian-Ukranian investment banker? Er no). Italians and Spaniards are pouring into London for work. At the end of the evening the Guv'nor was eating a very nice chicken burger in a KX eaterie. The server could have been the future Mrs Tanner, if the Guv'nor was twenty years younger. She was from Padua and said the economic situation in Italy was bad and she had come over eight months ago. The Guv'nor said mille grazie and the apparition from heaven replied prego.

Just before that Alex had an attack of the deep and meaningfuls. Alex and the Guv'nor are going to have to set aside a three hour slot to continue their fundamental discussion. In summary a classic evening for the Guv'nor.

PS. People hoping for a re-run of the infamous tussle between Arsenal Goughie and Stevie A. were severely disappointed by their no-show. Spizz (www.spizzenergi.com) was again absent claiming he had to prepare for a gig in East Anglia.

Got to add a few more comments on pulsating four-four draw

Sheffield Andy made a cracking diving save in goal for the yellows early on. Simon INK was a bit subdued and we did not really see his long semi-circular dribbling runs. On the blues Danny was not pleased with his performance. He miscued a few passes on the left touchline.

The man of the match in my opinion goes to Stevie A, for a) his two excellent goals, b) his dynamic box-to-box running and his "No Quarter" approach to tackling. He is also a fellow Cockney Red
www.manutd.com

Talking about Led Zeppelin, I am awaiting a Physical Graffiti cd in the post.

Sheffield Andy is in Tokyo again but we seem to be in constant communication on the mobile and on text.

A comment from Gooner Simon www.arsenal.com inexplicably
issed the game when he is usually an ever-present.

"Why do I always miss the fights? I wasn't there for the legendary set-to between Tony and Boro Dave, either."

And a nice joke from Goughie, which is on email and is defeating my amateurish efforts of cut and paste.

Three blogs from the one game (and possibly game of the season!) Wow. Spizz of www.Spizzenergi.com was absent after deciding to go to a book launch and to see Sticky Fingers in Tufnell Park afterwards. The punk legend is currently recording a new hit single with his band called
"Sea of Eyes", which is a fluid commentary on the stark reality of Surveillance Britain.

Gashead pronounces!!!

Dear all

 

After much deliberation, I have made the following rulings after Friday's unseemly events:

 

 

Ian Goughie:

 

Verdict: No case to answer: I have decided to apply no punishment to Ian for trying to knock Steve out. Too often the person sinned against ends up being punished unfairly. Two very poor tackles from Steve deserved some response.

 

Stevie A.:

 

Verdict: Guilty: Thuggish tackling from behind has no part of the beautiful game. Punishment - Steve has been sent to climb Ben Nevis for his sins.

 

Yev. (I like chicks)  Zench.:

 

Verdict: Guilty (suspended sentence): Squawking petulance is not becoming, but given events in his native country, I will overlook it this one time.

 

 

I hope that draws a line under the whole sorry incident.

 

   

At least Goughie and Stevie A. made up in the Skinners afterwards.

A pulsating four-four draw was enlivened by a fight between Goughie and Stevie A,, Moany Tony calling the yellow team "cheats" (not very Corinthian spirited) and walking off with his blue team down four-three. Without the Spurs supporter, advert maker and professional singer we managed to get a well-deserved equaliser. (Did you see Spurs yesterday at Liverpool? They were absolutely shite and a disgrace to the shirt).

The game quickly became four-one to the yellows when Yev (on time this time), Stefan and Will cut us to pieces and aided and abetted by Fenian Mick, who was gracing some cool, media-type stubble on his chin. On our team the star performers were Dan, making a rare performance before relocating up norff to be with his bird in Harrogate, Moany Tony and Liam. In a controversial part of play Liam went down very close to the penalty area after a heavy challenge from Sheffield Andy. Somehow the Blues did not get the penalty despite the referee Gashead Simon being on our side.

At four-one the blues were losing badly but Chris took a central defensive role and with Gashead playing to his left and me the Guv'nor and debutant Tom, a friend of Dan, were playing in the right and suddenly we stopped leaking goals and so Dan, Moany Tony and Liam led the fight-back. For us Danny made an amazing block from Stevie A, while Gashead flung himself to keep a shot out when he was in goal.

As for the sensational fight, Ian "Goughie, www.arsenal.com
received a poor challenge from Stevie A, and retaliated with a volley of kicks and punches. Liam manfully stepped in to break up the warring parties. I was hugging the right touchline at the time and as I am of a nervous disposition, I looked away and so I had an Arsene Wenger moment of not fully seeing the controversial episode. At least Goughie and Stevie A. made up in the Skinners afterwards.

Although it was a pulsating draw, I thought the yellows shaded it with Will crashing a shot against the bar, Yev scoring a wonder goal showing great technique hooking in the ball, which arrived over his shoulder. Then, he missed a sitter when he could have passed the ball in to a central attacker for a tap-in. I played forlornly against Stefan, who looks younger than my son but I think the Young American did not get on the score sheet. I kept well away from Fenian Mick since in all the games I have played against him I have never once tackled him. At the end Mick K. was a bit distressed about all the lip in the game. If Moany Tony wants to call the opposition cheats in future I will ask him to vacate the pitch before he flounces off.

In the dressing room afterwards as usual Coram Fields laid on cold water. We should really get a discount (NB Gashead). Feisty Ian "Goughie" made some tasteless jokes about Dan going up to Yorkshire (will you be playing football on Ilkley Moor?). I know Yorkshire quite well having been to Skipton, where my relations are, and for a poor southern boy I have braved the delights of Barnsley, Huddersfield, Sheffield, Scarborough, York and Doncaster. I have only driven through Leeds but I am sure I will visit the cultural centre of the county some time soon. I have never been to Harrogate but I hear it is very nice.

Hotpants

Afternoon, all. Another week, another match report.

Friday’s game took place in the immediate aftermath of a hail storm that I got caught right in the middle of - it felt like someone was sticking pins in my head as I trudged across Coram Fields to get changed. Inevitably, once I reached the sanctuary of changing room number four the skies cleared.

Happily, both the rain and the hail had completely abated before the start of play and Simon Gas selected the following teams:

Blue Bibs – Stefan, Alex, Tony, Chris, Ian Arsenal, Phil, me, Simon Gas

Yellow Bibs – Bearded Nick, Spizz, Liam, Steve, Danny, Bristol Paul, Mario and Yev (of whom much more later)

The first ten minutes or so were played with the team in Blue having a man advantage, Yev’s arrival delayed by either the necessity of working late or possibly having to advise Vladimir Putin on his next geopolitical strategic move.

In that time the Blues had taken a 2-1 lead, Alex and Phil being the marksmen, (Phil’s goal was from the tightest of angles). At this juncture in proceedings the Blues were well worth their lead, pinging the ball around in midfield and utilising the extra man by playing the ball out from the back and making the most of the dynamic midfield triumvirate of Alex, Stefan and Tony.

However, with around fifteen minutes gone a familiar looking figure arrived, besuited and beseeching Simon to be allowed to play. Simon Gas, parked in goal for most of the game, was sufficiently distracted by Yev’s arrival to handle a backpass and concede an indirect free-kick which, fortunately, was squandered by the Yellows.

If Simon was distracted by Yev’s initial appearance from behind the goal then his subsequent introduction was not so much a distraction, as a cause celebre. As the London sky darkened, a strange figure came hobbling across the pitches, clad in football boots, socks, shirt and a towel. On reaching our field of play, the towel was discarded to reveal the Ukrainian striker wearing a full football kit minus a pair of shorts with only some black underwear to protect his modesty. Basically, Yev was playing in hotpants.

Unsurprisingly, this semi-indecent get-up proved to be highly distracting for the Blues and although their lead held for around ten minutes, eventually the Yellows drew level and then took an unassailable lead. Almost all of the Yellows’ goals were slightly fortuitous – deflections that went in the net or wrong-footed the Blues’ defence all took their toll, while some individual errors were ruthlessly punished by Yev and Spizz. Chris and I combined for one wholly avoidable goal; Chris was bringing the ball out of defence and I was too busy trying to recover my breath from an earlier run upfield to properly get out of his way. Chris crashed the ball off my back where Yev gleefully pounced to smash the ball home. Similarly, Tony was caught playing out of defence and there was a quick exchange of passes to see the trouserless Yev score once more.

The Blue team put together plenty of chances of their own and continued to play well, but luck was not on their side as a shot from Stefan ricocheted off of Danny and went just wide of the post. Nick got the final goal of the evening, which came via yet another deflection.

Final score: Yellows 6, Blues 2

With Yev reacquainted with his trousers we headed off to the pub where, for the second week in a row, we nabbed a table from the off. The chief topic of conversation was Russia’s reacquisition of the Crimea – Yev provided us with a genuinely interesting insight, as he explained that the citizens of the Crimean peninsula had, in effect, doubled their money overnight be voting to join the Russian Federation, given the strength of the Russian economy to that of its neighbour to the west. I didn’t hear that on Newsnight.

I’m off to see a band this Friday, but presumably Paul can provide next week’s blog. Until then…

Bib-bib, n’ bib-bib, yeah!

Greetings, Spizzenergi football blog readers. Another good workout this week, with the numbers of players just about stretching to seven aside, meaning there was lots of running, huffing and puffing. Simon Gas’s two teams, sans bibs, (the north London auteur Tony being the culprit who forgot to bring them), were as follows:

‘Darks’ (red, black, navy): me, Ian Arsenal, Chris, Tony, Dave, Phil, Will

‘Lights’ (white, light blue, yellow): Spizz, Mick, Liam, Simon Gas, Mario, Paul, Danny

And so we began, with both teams wearing a mixture of kit that broadly fell into either the categories ‘light’ or ‘dark’. There was some early confusion with Simon Gas wearing a dark blue t-shirt that had to be swapped with Phil via Danny, which saw the Bristol Rovers supremo playing in a fetching white vest that was reminiscent of a) a primary school PE lesson or b) a scene from a Louisiana strip joint (you choose).

It may have been a consequence of the confusion over colour, but there was a testy exchange between Mick and post punk legend Spizz, the gist of which was that Mick felt that Spizz was up front hogging the limelight while his team-mates were left doing too much of the legwork. Sport imitating art imitating life, no doubt.

Partly aided and abetted by the general confusion over team strips, the Lights roared into a three goal lead courtesy of goals from the aforementioned Spizz, who spotted Dave slightly wrong-footed on his line and then Mario, to whom I am almost obliged to add the prefix ‘Super’ and finally Danny. Mario’s goal in particular was an excellent shot; the barrel chested newcomer opened his body and sent the ball wide outside the ‘keeper (me in this instance) before it bent back into the far post.

At this point the Darks’ eyes adjusted to the early Spring gloom and they began to get themselves organised. I was being directed, nay commanded, around by (who else?) Tony, but the combination of West Ham Chris, another newcomer, at left half and Tony in midfield began to pay dividends as we got danger man Will increasingly into the game.

With Will and Phil getting in amongst the goals, the deficit began to reduce, although a slightly flukey goal from Spizz that went in off a defender’s heel proved, ultimately, to be the winner. There was just the one goal in it by the end, as Ian collected the ball from a distance of all of three yards, gave Simon Gas the eyes and pushed it inside the near post for the final goal of the night.

Final score: Darks 5 Lights 6

Hopefully we’ll have the Bibs back next week, as well as some more players.

And so once more to the pub. A rare treat this week, as we managed to grab a table and chairs from the off, leaving no man splintered off from the main group. The most memorable conversation revolved around the somewhat unlikely topic of climbing mountains; Danny regaled us with a tale involving his wife and the folly of climbing the Old Man of Conniston in jeans and t-shirts without any supplies or equipment and hailing some truculent mountaineers for help; Mick and Ian both had similar stories of unforgiving hillocks and woefully under-prepared outdoors enthusiasts.

When was the last time you heard words like ‘tarn’, ‘corrie’ and ‘scree’? GCSE Geography? Not in a west end boozer, I’d wager.

Yours geographically….

Springtime for Simon and Stefan

I fully intended to make up for the absence of last week’s blog – blame a week from hell, including the contraction of a nasty computer virus that left me wandering my office like David Banner without a friendly PC to use – by posting a bumper double edition on Sunday, but a friend’s 40^th birthday spiralled out of control and I lost the whole day to the kind of hangover I thought I’d left behind in the early years of the century. (This is what happens when my wife goes away).

As such, I am penning this on the other side of a weekend which saw Arsenal earn a Wembley appearance for the first time since the Birmingham City debacle of 2011 and resulted in me singing loudly in the residential streets surrounding my house at one in the morning.

First things first, February 28^th’s game, which I am labelling the Final Game of Winter, was a very busy affair, with both teams boasting around ten aside. With so many players on the pitch space was at an absolute premium, particularly in central midfield, and it took the faster feet and legs of players like Alex, Leandro, making his valedictory appearance at Coram Fields just as everyone had learnt his name, and a young American lad called Stefan to make the difference. I forget the colour of the bibs worn by the winning team, but one side ran out comfortable winners by a margin of around 10-2, with Will, Leandro, Alex and Stefan all impressing. Less impressive was Bearded Nick, who was lambasting all and sundry on his team, (including the Arthur Daley of New Wave, Spizz), although he did have the good grace to admit as much the following week.

That’s about all I can remember from the last game in February, which was played in the pouring rain and high winds that have made the past few months such a bleedin’ misery. Fast forward seven days and the contrast couldn’t have been any starker: from chill winds to a balmy evening inside one week, with not a drop of rain to be seen.

Happily, there were far fewer players on the park, making the game altogether more enjoyable and leaving one feeling as if you had a good work-out. Simon Gas picked the following two sides:

Yellows - me, Steve, Danny, Simon Ink, Stefan, Mick, Geoff

Blues - Simon Gas, Alan, Tony, Bristol Paul, Paul, Will, Bearded Nick

The Yellows roared into a three goal lead following scoring efforts from Stefan and a tremendous third goal from Simon Ink that saw the Yellows leading 4-1. The ‘1’ for the Blues was a spectacular looking finish from Alan, who was seemingly channelling African colossi like Didier Drogba and Emmanuel Adebayor when he received the ball on his chest with his back to goal before turning and smashing a volley in off the left post. At this point Simon Gas, never a man to accept defeat when it is still possible to engineer victory, switched the teams, apparently because Bristol Paul was carrying a knock. (This was by no means obvious as the West Countryman roamed forward from his left back berth with characteristic menace, but I suppose we will have to accept this alleged truth).

The revised line-ups looked like this: -

Yellows - me, Steve, Danny, Paul, Stefan, Mick, Geoff

Blues - Simon Gas, Alan, Tony, Bristol Paul, Simon Ink, Will, Bearded Nick

Shorn of our Olivier Giroud-like focal point the Yellows came under increasing pressure and a slew of goals from Tony and Will saw the Blues draw level. The final passage of the game was a desperate slug-fest to see who could get a winner – the Yellows’ goal lead something of a charmed life, although Steve and Danny marshalled the defence admirably, while Stefan missed a glorious one-on-one with Tony in goal, the north London auteur out-psyching the Kentucky tyro and forcing him too wide to get a decent shot off.

With the time creeping past eight ‘o’ clock Tony called the game off, saying he had to ‘be somewhere’. Simon Gas complied (speculation is mounting that Tony has a shoe-box full of polaroids of the younger Simon in compromising positions, (and we’re not talking about his place on the pitch)) and four apiece it ended, which was arguably the fairest result on the night.

It transpired that the place Tony needed to be was the Skinners Arms, where he was reclined with paper upon the arrival of the rest of us. After learning that young Stefan could have been out with his mates drinking in riverside locations but preferred to company of middle-aged men, talk turned to the remainder of the domestic football season and the weekend’s fixtures.

That’s it ‘til Friday – enjoy your week and I promise not to leave it so late next week.