Generic blog post (not mentioning Spizz)

Last Friday evening’s somewhat chilly game of football saw a total of ten goals and plenty of action, as Simon Gas selected the two teams. With Mick arriving slightly after the start of play I was the makeweight in the subsequent rebalancing of the two sides, with the line-ups settling thusly:

Bibs: Mick, Matt, Dan, Ian Goff*, Ian West Brom, Simon Ink, Phil 

Colours: Alex, Yev, Joe, Andy, Tommy, Danny, Simon Gas, me

(The Bibs had rush keeper to reflect that they were a man short). 

The scoring had already opened before Mick’s arrival, via, I think, Alex. (Having switched teams it’s not easy to remember whether you were on the side that took the lead or not). There then  followed a flurry of goals, with Alex and Yev forming a potent double-act through the middle of the park, Yev playing ostensibly as a striker and Joe providing a very useful outlet wide on the left and cutting in to lay on the chances for the two main men. 

Meanwhile Matt and Dan proved to be a real handful for the Bibs and both scored at least once each, with long range shooting being very much the order of the day given they had fewer people to pass to. I think Phil also got on the scoresheet. As the game wore on the extra man for the Colours started to tell – Yev grabbed one goal following a rare rush-goalie mix-up that left the goal temporarily (yet fatally) unguarded - although the score never got completely away from the Bibs. 

In an event as rare as the proverbial rocking horse’s teeth or hen’s shit I managed to get on the scoresheet after Joe cut the ball back from his wide-left berth and I smartly tucked the ball past the keeper, (even if I do say so myself). That made the score 5-3, but it was 5-4 soon after, following an unfortunate own goal that wrong footed yours truly between the posts. I did manage to make amends and prevent would have been an equalising shot from Dan, before Joe wrapped things up with a late sixth goal for the Colours. 

Final score: Colours 6 - Bibs 4

Bit of a schism in the Old Fountain this week, with me, Danny, Mick and Andy on one table swapping stories of terrible jobs (I particularly enjoyed Danny’s revelation that he failed an interview for McDonald’s in the last 80’s after turning up in a three piece suit – and with his mother in tow, something which inspired this week’s byline photo), while Simon, Ian Goff* and the younger coterie of players on the other. No idea what they were discussing. 

I’m away for a couple of weeks, seeing various in-laws in Cornwall and Essex, so The Guvnor will no doubt be back in blogging action before long. 

*I am aware this is not the correct spelling.

Four versus Five

Last Friday’s game was a very taxing four versus five affair, with one of the nine players being a young ringer called Pete who opportunity had decided to knock for. With so few players, remembering the two teams is somewhat more straightforward than usual:

Bibs – Danny, Simon Gas, Phil, me

Colours – Spizz, Paul The Guvnor, Simon Inky, Joe and the young ringer Pete

(You will note that 33.3% of the players had the first name ‘Simon’). 

With the Gang of Four having rush goalie, the game kicked off and the Bibs duly took the lead courtesy of a dashing run from Danny that began in his own area and ended with a clinical finish. The Colours equalised, but the next two goals were shared as the extra man on the colours’ side started to force the Bibs to work very hard. But with the score balanced at 2-2 Simon Gas scored what seemed to feel like a game changing goal, with a trademark drilled shot from wide on the left that found the bottom corner of the goal.

There followed another key point in the game, with punk legend Spizz refusing to go in goal, a hand injury being ostensibly blamed for his inability to take turn as ‘keeper. With the goal left unguarded in the ensuing melee, Danny squared a pass that pinged off the unfortunate Simon Ink and into an empty net to make the score 4-2. I don’t think it’s an understatement to say that this incensed The Guvnor and the ensuing row seemed to spread disaffection through the Colours’ ranks; the Bibs duly extended their lead in a commanding fashion, with Danny and Phil doing the majority of the damage, scoring from distance, via some dashing forward play and on one occasion via an outrageous nutmeg on Simon Ink that saw Phil turn on goal with a ruthless display of finishing. 

Spizz seemed to have about 25 different chances from just outside the ‘D’, but whether some form of karmic justice was at play or whether it was just great goalkeeping, the margin between the two teams continued to grow until the Bibs lead 10-2. An uncharacteristic incidence of unsporting behaviour from Danny, deliberately handling the ball to prevent Pete from having a one-on-one with the ‘keeper, saw Simon Gas give the Colours a penalty kick which Spizz duly dispatched. The Bibs grabbed a couple more goals, but the game still finished with a resounding 11-5 win for the Bibs’ Gang of Four. 

And it was only a Gang of Four that made it to the pub, with all three Simons and Joe settling in at the White Lion to watch England v San Marino. (Well, the first half, anyway.) In stark contrast to the Old Fountain I was served within around 6 seconds of reaching the bar, with both members of staff poured a pint each. How’s that for service?

Here’s to some more players next week.

Waterworld

With The Guvnor currently incapacitated with something or other, (diphtheria? rickets?), I resumed blogging duties for Friday 5th October’s game. I will be taking a slightly more traditional approach to the ‘match report’ following Paul’s blog from last week which suggested fines for people deemed not to have passed sufficiently often, as well as those who have not “put in a shift”, (with the cash in the latter case going to Simon Gas. As if he needs the money). I’ve never read a match report from someone who left before the end of the game either, but not for nothing does The Guvnor have a reputation as a maverick.

Friday’s game was played amidst the sort of driving, relentless rain that you could expect to find on the bridge of a ship, or in a film set in a dimly-lit dystopian future starring someone like Kevin Costener or Mel Gibson. The somewhat inclement weather may have been partly responsible for the relatively low turn-out, with two teams of six each.

From memory, they lined up as follows

Bibs – Phil, Matt of the flaxen hair, Wing Commander Will, Sam, Simon Gas, Joe

Colours – Boro Dave, Danny, Alex, Mick, Simon Inky, me

Despite a closely fought opening, with the two teams sharing the first four goals, the game turned into something of a rout, although the possession stats would have looked reasonably even.  The final score was 11-3 to the Colours, with Boro Dave on fire – not literally, Jamie Redknapp, (in case you’re reading) – and Alex providing the Teessider with the ammunition. The pick of Dave’s goals was a real picturesque effort, with Mick pinging the ball through to Dave on the edge of the ‘D’ and Dave backheeling the ball with his first touch and into the net. Despite the slippery conditions there were relatively few keeping blunders, although Matt scored with a shot that I should have been able to stop. Some wayward finishing combined with increasingly miraculous goalkeeping prevented the Bibs from scoring more than three goals – during Simon Ink’s spell in goal he ‘saved’ a shot , seeing the ball ricochet off both of his ankles and fly over the bar. It had turned into one of those evenings by the end where everything that the Colours tried was coming off – Mick fizzing the ball in from the half way line, Dave receiving the ball with his back to goal and still managing to turn, shoot and score and most bizarrely Simon Ink tackling Sam for a loose ball and then watching it squirm beyond the keeper for the eleventh goal. I couldn’t score mind, with my best effort coming back off the far post as I attempted a Norman Whiteside-style finish.

Following the end of the game and some more heroics from Dave (he had to retrieve the ball from the playschool behind the goal) Mick, Sam (who had returned from a post-match fit of pique), Simon Gas, Danny and myself repaired to the Old Fountain, which was very busy.  Topics of conversation included the 2012 Christmas party and the fact that we should go to the White Lion next Friday as they have more seats and Simon Gas is keen to renew the acquaintance of the delightful russet barmaid, although she may have grown her Winter coat by now.

The Guv'nor shocks the two teams with early goal.

Last Friday night the Guv'nor shocked the two teams with an early goal. "I found some space on the left wing, I think it was Gashead, who poked the ball down the line, then I had Danny in goal at my mercy.
I curled it round him and the ball hit the post. For a moment with my luck (my Dad passing away on Valentine's Day and Man Utd losing the league to the noisy neighbours) the ball would come out again but it
nestled in the net."

The Guv'nor told an off-pitch reporter that his confidence was sky high after a good pre-season playing with Cliff and Kev's team. Fenian Mick could testify that he got a neat goal in a match organised by Cliff, although the Guv'nor would be a bit disorientated since he plays a zonal defence system rather than the man-to-man marking preferred by the
7.45ers.

Soon, after the goal, the Guv'nor trundled back to defence to replace Gashead in goal. Fenian Mick quipped that the colours were putting their best attacker in goal!.
"The game was seven-a-side and evenly matched until Phil Bowers and Alex Charnley started passing to the opposing team rather than doing the easy ball to me and opening the defence."
"I managed to catch the 7.44 and saw a bit of Gardener's World, which gave me my tasks for the weekend, which included raking the lawn. I was quite pleased with my performance and I owe Gashead a six quid match fee."
I am going to propose an addition to our by-rules, people who don't pass and people who don't do their shift should pay Gashead a tenner.
The surplus we build up can be used for a physio fund to help players get through injuries. The best sight for me last Friday was the return of Ross from a knee injury. The lay-off might have been shorter if we paid for private physio."
Before I left we basically had the game under control with Matt scoring two fine goals and also diverting a shot into our own net. I thought he was the star of the match. Spizz scored a fine curving shot when I was behind the sticks. Yev and Mick were the pick of the bunch for them.
In his captaincy role Mick had to explain a few simple football strategies to WBA Ian.

September

Welcome back to the Friday night football blog vaguely related to the sometime adventures of legendary punk icon, Spizz. 

Many apologies for the dearth of words over the past two weeks; I resumed action last week and owing to a mental week at work and the lack of Paul ‘The Governor’ to remind me, I completely negated my blogging duties. I can’t remember much about Friday 14^th September’s game, but I know that a) I finished on the winning team and b) there were a lot of people playing. Oh, and c) Dan and Alex were really good.

I took the precaution of making notes about Friday’s game – that’s Friday the 21^st, i.e. last Friday – on the Saturday morning. As I hurtle toward a landmark birthday I have started to develop strategies to overcome any age and/or alcohol related memory lapses. 

This is what the notes say: 

3-2 to The Colours

 

Team line-ups: too many to remember, but around 9 (nine) aside

 

Dan opened the scoring for the team sans bibs with a beautiful dinked shot that swerved out to the right before swerving back in (rather like a Shane Warne delivery) and kissing the inside of the post as it went in. I saw all of this quite well, as I was in goal at the time. Similarly, a few minutes later Boro Dave spanked a trademark left footed drive which I got what I believe they refer to in the game as a “strong wrist” to, but obviously not strong enough as the ball flew up in the air and assumed a diabolical backspin which sent it teasingly beyond my clutches. I should say that I did make one decent save, albeit with my testicles. I believe that the goalkeeping fraternity refer to such an intervention as “strong balls”. They’re welcome to call it what they want, but I shan’t be attempting a repeat any time soon.

The game then swung back to 2-2, with Yev scoring the equaliser for the Bibs (and quite possibly the opening goal, too). The second came via some silky interplay on the right which still left Yev with a bit to do; he struck his shot low and unerringly beyond whoever was in goal at the time to level things up.

With Alex and Matt, he of the tall frame and flaxen hair, pulling all sorts of strings in the middle and Yev looking customarily dangerous the Friday night cognoscenti were probably scenting (ahem) a Bibs win, but the goal which settled things fell to the side in Colours in somewhat strange circumstances. Alex, typically busy and generally Roy of the Rovers-like, intercepted a pass on the edge of his own area that glided toward goal. Ross, between the posts at the time, could only watch aghast as the ball pinged back off the post and rolled invitingly out to Spizz, who calmly tucked the ball away, despite the best efforts of Alex to put him off.

The only other notable incident was a pointless outbreak of handbags between Boro Dave and Yev that I have no intention of trying to pick apart here. 

And so to the Old Fountain’s Head, where the soggy weather failed to dampen the spirits of those that made it. My evening ended with Ian, Yev and myself agreeing that no good can come discussing one’s wife’s plastic surgeries, particularly when said wife belongs to someone else and said surgeries relate to said wife’s priority triangle. 

It’s good to be back...

Players of the year

The final game of the 2011/2012 Finsbury Leisure Centre season took place last Friday the 29^th July amid gloomy, cobalt skies and the distinct threat of rain. So, a typical English Summer’s day, then. I was asked by Simon Gas to select the teams for the last time until September and duly picked the following sides:

Bibs: Boro Dave, Spizz, Mick, Paul, Simon Ink, Ian West Brom, Sam

Colours: Simon Gas, Joe, Yev, Dan, Alan, me, Andy

Team selection was made tricky by the customarily late arrival of Yev, which saw the departure of young Yusuf, who was called upon to act as ballast in the early exchanges. I believe that Dan opened the scoring – it was certainly someone not wearing a bib, but the Bibs soon took a strangle hold on the game with Boro Dave and Spizz forming a traditional English little ‘n’ large strike-force. Some dead eyed finishing from Spizz and characteristic fluid runs from Dave built a 5-2 lead to the Bibs and all seemed lost for the team in Colours, with over elaboration in front of goal and an injury to Alan stymieing their progress.

But, like many English teams in the past, the Colours would not be beaten and having finally got a toe-hold in the game Yev and Dan made the difference with a combination of great finishing and muscular midfield running. A key moment was the penalty that Dan struck unerringly into the bottom left corner to make the scores 5-4 after Yev and Ian West Brom had tangled to send the latter tumbling into the box with the ball. Yev equalised soon after, once I managed to get hold of the ball and square it the Ukrainian maestro who rifled one in from well outside the D and the Colours then eased away with a goal more each from both Dan and Yev (and some poor goalkeeping), as well as lovely final finish from Joe. This was the first time that I can recall Joe and I playing on the same side and as the universe didn’t implode we should repeat things next term.

Final score: Colours 8 Bibs 3.

And so onto the Red Dog Saloon, via the Old Fountain’s Head. A quick word about the Fountain – it seemed far quieter in there than I would have predicted, but Jim’s previous recruitment and selection policy which could best be described as ‘traditional’ has seemingly been replaced by a determination to employ the most gormless bar staff in the capital.

The Red Dog itself was an altogether more sedate affair than last year’s bacchanal, partly as we started eating earlier and largely as we chose not to order the equivalent of a pitcher of beer each. After Spizz had blagged some free beer in true punk spirit, the rest of us got down to the hard yards of demolishing meat patties, fries and onion rings (with Yev making a concerted effort to make friends with the waitress). As is traditional, there were end of season awards, which, from memory, went as thus:

•  Player of the year – Dan
• Goalkeeper of the year – Simon Ink
• Irishman of the year – Alan
•  Plastic Paddy of the year – Mick
•  Most improved player of the year – Paul (Alan overruled the original decision, which was, err, me)

There was even an award for this blog, as I scooped “Sports journalist of the year”, despite the presence of Mick on the table who is a professional scribe for the FT.

And that, pretty much, is that.  

Have a good Summer drinking beer and watching the Olympics and see you back in Old Street for September. And thank you to Simon, for being, as ever, the football organiser par excellence.