SHOWER TALK: THE PASSION FRUIT ADDICT

Spotted ... Christmas Eve, in the Body Shop, sniffing on the Passion Fruit gel ... One Of Our Number. Clearly a few days away from the stuff had left the mystery sniffer gagging with an unquenchable craving.

He might call it Christmas shopping, but he had the panda-eyed look of a hopeless addict chasing his next Fruity fix. Football is rife with substance abuse, and now here it is in our midst, our own innocent little astroturf knock-about stained by the corrupted soul of the professional game.

A call to the Passion Fruit Priory has revealed that our mystery sniffer shows all the signs of being on his way to being the Norwich Gazza, the Body Shop Merson.

It has been noted how more and more of the Shower Gang claim to have "accidentally" left thier own gel at home, and queue up like little Golams to get heir hands on the purple pleasure potion.

Maybe it's time to switch the Grapefuit, or Begarmot?

Twas the game before Christmas

'Twas the game before Christmas, as we waited to go

Many players were stirring, even Tayo

The nets were hung by the goalposts with care,

In hopes that David Clifford soon would be there;



The players were nestled all snug in their positions,

Thinking ahead to their difficult missions;

And Chibb in his Croatia top, and Tim in his cap,

Had just settled down for a long ball over the top,

When out on the pitch there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the floor to see what was the matter.

Away to the sideline Daz flew like a flash,

Tore down the wing with such a mad dash.

The ball on the surface of the newly-lain turf

Gave the lustre of full time to half asleep smurfs,

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,



But Momadu, ten minutes late to a sneer,

With a little old shimmy, so lively but shy,

I knew in a moment it must be our Guy.

More rapid than eagles his passes they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, Barry! now, Rich! now, Pete and Tony!

On, Tim! on Tayo! on, Piers and no balony!

To the edge of the area! to the goal line!

Now dash away! dash away! dash away, we've not much time!"


And then, in a twinkling, I heard from the back

The celebrations of goals scored from Zak

As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,

Down the pitch Darren came with a bound.

He was dressed in all colours, from his head to his foot,

And some great passes came from his black and yellow boot;

A bundle of opponents he had just behind his back,

And he looked like Peter Crouch just opening his pack.

His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like Trevor Cherry!



He was tall and quick, a right old hard case,

But I laughed when I saw all his passes misplaced

Then a wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And shimmied right past Tim making him look quite a berk,

And laying his crosses onto Chibb's nose,

And giving a nod, up into the air he rose;

He sprang to his feet, to his team gave a whistle,

And down the pitch they all flew like the down of a thistle.



But I heard him bugger over, as he ran out of sight,

"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."

Banana Hammock Balance

Last Wednesday was an outstanding game from the outset. It was without doubt the fastest paced opening to any game I've played with the soccernight legends. We had about seven or eight-a-side and yet the passing accuracy and pace meant that the game had a auspicious fervour and excitement.

Having enjoyed such an enthralling spell I was apprehensive about the ongoing quality of the game when the talented youngsters arrived. My fears were unfounded as the festival of football continued. Despite ten-a-side the intesity was marvellous and the standard of football was glorious. The teams were well matched with sublime passing attacks. It wasn't all about attack, however. With Gerry and Piers at the back for the colours the onslughts were often repelled. Gerry was master and commander at the back and Piers manufactured some truly perfect interceptions and salient tackles.

Despite some beautiful football by Sonny and Joe's wonder goal, Man of the Match for me was Geir. In recent weeks I've seen Geir show frustration; his high standards are demanding and when his passing percentage drops below 98% he gets upset. On this night he was absolutely faultless. The accuracy of height, distance and weight were crucial in setting up several goals and its always great to see such a relaxed yet commanding performance. Regular readers will know that the secret to Geir's sucess resides in the subtle balance of his sizeable family jewels! I can only imagine that his lucky banana hammock was finally washed and he got to perform at his calibrated best.

The game was marred by Rich's knee injury which perturbed his excellence and vigour. He heroically continued and let's hope he is fully fit and ready for action this Friday.

Despite leading by two for quite a long time the colours lapsed in concentration and the greens snatched a one goal lead that ended up being the final result. I can in no way complain. It was a joyous game of football and well worth the 2 pounds I paid.

The Passion Fruit Diary

After a long day sipping Mammoth Blood beverages, eating grilled Sabre-Tooth Tiger burgers and inventing the wheel Billy's great, great, great, great, great grandfather realised that he'd worked up a musk that was beyond the tolerable threshold of even ancient female olfactory senses. Being of above average IQ for that era of humanity he understood that malodourous advances made towards Mrs. Billy Stoneage would likely end up with him in the spare cave having a wank instead of indulging in the ungabunga sex marathon he deserved.

From this dilemma male grooming was born. In his immediate vicinity several passion fruits were crushed, converted into a paste, filtered through Cheetah fur and stored in polar bear scrotums. Locating a water source Billy Stoneage applied his fragrance enhancer and washed away his toil-derived stench. Obviously the invention was a success as evidenced by Billy's existance today and the family tradition continues to the present day.

Those practicing personal hygiene after football will be aware of this wonderous tale as Billy shares his modern day passion fruit shower gel with those in need of treatment. Surprisingly, with this inaugural installment of the Passion Fruit Diary I must, with heavy heart, inform the readers that Billy has departed from tradtition and embarked on Grapefruit shower gel. I am hopeful that this malaise of choice with be self-resolving and Billy will return to the winning formula.

Enough on the aetiology of the title; what the feck is it all about? Well, the great sages of football, Billy and Guy, discuss the major points of each game while taking mutli-vitamins and smearing themselves in fruity smelling loveliness. The younger amongst us, including myself, add our own amateur insights. This shower talk is informative and humourous and so some little snipits are worthy of posting. There has also been a paucity of blogs recently and this is an opportunity to redress some of the absent praise of previous games.

The most important thing about the games that went without blogs were that they weren't that enjoyable for this blogster. I couldn't do anything right. I've tried to banish them from my memory but some people were at there heroic best.

Shower talk revealed that Chibb had enquired with individuals, incluing myself, separately to ask about the absent blogs. Admittedly, it must have been disappointing after his magnificent footballing prowess on Friday last that he didn't get his peer-derived admiration and write-up. Well, Chibb, many of the greatest heroes go unsung but we'll have your legendary performance posted on the internet for all the world to read. I apologise that it is too late for the FIFA World Player of the Year Awards!

Simply put Chibb outpaced the defense to score a handful of goals and not only that he was displaying wonderous skills and energy. He was tireless even to the last move of the game where he resplendently kept in the ball with a concomitant turn on the line and then, if I remember right, passed for a goal. Always a major contributor to any team that he's on, Chibb was scintillating in that game eclipsing the magnificence of Guy, Geir and the other Galacticos that always vie for Man of the Match. Post-match praise was unanimous for the display and hopefully Chibb can continue to treat us with such displays.

The other major discussion of shower talk was whether or not Davidoff Cool Water was good or bad. I backed up Stefan by pointing out that despite it not being the best smelling aftershave from the male perspective, it is a fanny magnet fragrance almost on a parr with passion fruit!

Good Footballing Friday

Right my first blog, now this won’t have the wit of Rich’s posts or the articulate edge of Darren’s but ill give it a go!!! (and ignore the battle ref on bottom of the pic..has no relevance..haha)
Despite the lack of bibs on Fridays game and the early fear we may have a headless turkey game ahead of us it turned out to be a very good organised game with some exceptional football on display.
The teams lined up 8 against 7 and for the opening stretch of the game with the non-darks made the extra player count by taking an early sizeable lead with Zak being the main man upfront causing problems in the darks defence and scoring nearly all the goals with some brilliant passing football being played. (Reports that Zak had eaten Weetabix for breakfast, lunch and pre-game dinner later proved unfounded). With such a lead building there were suggestions that the numbers didn’t add up and the game stopped for a Time-out to have a player recount and though the numbers added up it was decided the Non-darks would hand over a player……and this proved the games big turning point…Billy stepped up and changed sides and the impact on the game was instant. Suddenly the darks were bombarding the non-darks defensive line with Pete leading the front line and Dan, Tor, Tim & Billy making breaking runs from midfield. Now this was a real match. The Non-darks didn’t rollover however, Joe pulled in a dogged like performance and Darren put in a stern performance on the left and Barry was there to put his head on anything that came into their area (if a live grenade had been thrown into our area Barry would have been there to head it clear!!!) and the guy with Arsenal shirt (sorry don’t know name) was the rock at the back, very much playing in a Tony Adams/Steve Bould mould. Myself and Guy kept marshal in the defensive midfield. At this point the non-darks were putting some exceptional passing moves together that wouldn’t have been out of place at the Emirates and these would have led to more goals had it not been for the excellent defensive work of the rock back line of Keith and Shaughen and the ever present Tor and Tim for the darks. This match had turned into a real battle with no one wanting to give an inch!!
The match ended in an epic draw with everyone knowing they had been in a match!!!!

Also remember all…..You Play You Pay!!!!!!!!!! (£2 for all who are unsure).

Merry Christmas!!!!!

The Ravin' Idiots

Once upon a midnight dreary, while we played, weak and weary,
With many a quaint and curious pass of standard poor
While we plodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a clapping,
As of some one gently slapping, slapping hands for praise of chore.
"'Tis some Colours," I muttered, "clapping praise of skilful chore.
Only this and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak November,
And each separate woeful Green wrought his ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow
From my chances surcease of sorrow, sorrow for the loss in store,
For the rare and radiant goals that the Greens were want to score,
Absent then and evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each Green bib
Thrilled me, filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
"Shout for it lads, we need to score.
Mark a man and let's have a midfield core;
Step it up and give it more."

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Tor," said I, "or Fraser, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was grieving, and so gently you came weaving,
And so faintly you came heaving, heaving through the colours core,
That I scarce was sure I saw this"--here they passed the ball on floor
I fecking missed; no change in score.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Plonker?"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Plonker!"
Merely this and nothing more.

Darker still with shadows looming, hands on hips and faces brooding,
Heavy-headed Greens grew leaden, leaden from their skill-starved war,
And so it was with whistle's blowing, dejected souls felt dark foreboding,
The colour's danced in victory their might now set in lore.
Their crucifying greatness the Greens could not ignore.
"Bollocks" I say, and nothing more.

But what came of that eerie clapping, likened once to hands a slapping,
Regularly it did come passing, passing into ears now sore,
What cursed bell was damned tolling?; what beast from nadir's depths was calling?
This infernal racket I did intrinsically deplore.
"'Twas the feckin Colours clapping praise for every score.
Only this and nothing more."

Pippo'd to the post

Under 10's lined up against over 50's tonight on Pitch A at the Sportspark.

The young un's defence was marshalled by Tiny Tim, ably assisted by Terrific Tayo and occasionally aided by Tremendous Tor. The incisive pass and move football came, as usual, from Magic Geir supplying the ammunition from midfield, Tigrish Tom on the left with mazy runs into the box and Liverpool Joe doing his best to 'stick it in the net' upfront.

Surprisingly this team of young whippersnappers could only produce three goals all night, the pick of which was a super solo effort from Tigrish Tom who beat 114 players on the edge of the box before firing home through a crowded penalty area.

Stalwart Shaughen and Business-Like Lee could be the reason the young uns could only muster a meagre tally of three. Their steadfast defending prevented the ball from crossing the line on more than 6 occasions. The Awe-Inspring Guy and the Stupendous Stefan in midfield provided enough for the green strikers to go at. Fabulous Fraser and Dazzling Darren helped on both wings and Gutsy Gallagher was always putting his foot in for a tackle to win the ball back.

'We've Got A Brand New Manager Called Paul Jewell' Tim was an all-purpose player too, and it was he after the game who likened Rich's performance to Italian legend Filippo Inzaghi...

"What you mean I oozed pure class throughout the match and took all my chances with aplomb Tim?"

"No you were bloody shit for 89 minutes, but you popped up at the end to score the all important winner."

OK he didn't quite say it like that and I actually scored 60% of our five goals tonight but I'll still take comfort from the fact that Pippo has made 57 appearances for Italy scoring 25 goals in the process...not bad for an AC Milan duffer on his last legs eh?

Where did the picture go?

MAN OF THE MATCH

A game whose outcome was distorted by the injury to the shirts' Marmadu (spelling?) ... This was a result that didn't do justice to the efforts of the old lags.

The shirts took an early cominance, but when the Irish wizard arrived for the greens, things were shaping up to be pretty equal. Some slick moves, some good goals, but it all fell apart (just like That Other Team) and the roof fell in, when The Man in Brown twisted an ankle. That Other Team night have been missing Terry, Owen, Rooney, Ferdinand, Cole and Heskey, but their loss was piddling compared to the damage done to the colours on Friday night.

The greens showed no mercy. They poured forward with one touch pass-and-move like some Croation creation. The lags huffed and puffed and, in Guy's words "did bloody well under the circumstances" ... But the end result was as predictable as the lifespan Steve McQueen in the England job.

Some worthy performances on a night when conditions made handling difficult for the keeper ... oh, yeah, there was no keeper ... just like That Other Team. There were some outstanding candidates for Man of the Match. Chibb was tireless and lead by example, superb tackles, terrific runs, and one sliding effort that deserved more than the near miss it resulted in. Geir was moving through the gears with his usual composure and grit. Frazer was dishing out passes that would have landed on Crouch's eyebrow. Guy was defying his age yet again, dribbling and slotting in passes like a contender. Keith was defiant as a lone defender. Barry looked unbeatable whether pushing forward or folding the fort. Rich was here and there, a constant threat.

But there can only be one real Man of The Match ...

Frank Lampard.

Liquid Football

Recently, this leather tankard owning blogster, has earned a reputation as a late comer. This is rather undeserved and my better half will adamantly attest to my consistency for being on time or premature! The forthcoming ejaculation of text will represent two blogs in a row for me and this it seems is the penalty for arriving late.

I at least was not alone in appearing at 5.30. Dan was eqaully tardy and so it was that we manifest on the pitch with the score at 1 up for the colours. Dan added his skills to the colours while I donned a bib and joined the greens.

In stark contrast to wednesday's game the structure of the teams and calibre of passing was at a functional level. In fact, moments of wonderous passing were evident from the Greens. Billy at his humble best played down his part in a magnificent pass that split the colours defence and had Lorenzo sprinting after the ball. Beautifully placed, the ball had just a fraction too much pace for a finish.

For the colours, Guy gave an imperious display that was only marred by his routine hobbling by Taha. Piers was maintaining his well earned reputation as a defensive midfielder. With Shaughen at right back he was given some freedom to venture forth and get stuck into the advacing colours. Scott at the back was a legend. He was reading the game like it was a Peter and Jane book and seemed to head every ball that came in back out to the middle of the pitch.

Fraser seemed to be roaming at will but always managed to appear in the right place at the right time. He had attempts on goal and also furnished his team mates with some wonderfully crafted passes. I personally benefitted from a resplendant pass that resulted in a very rare left footed flick into the net. It was a beauty of a goal but I should counter it with my effort at a free. In moment akin to a Dave Clifford corner I aimed for a perfectly positioned Fraser but sent the ball miles beyond anyone. Fraser I'm sorry I could not return the favour of a glorious pass.

The key man up front for the Greens was Zac. His wizardly skills conjoured many goals that saw the greens win by 4 goals. It's been a while since I recall a convinving win by any team but friday's game became one sided.

So what went wrong? The colours had great players. Geir, the Norse God of Passing and Midfield Marshall of the Valhalla 11, seemed to be passing the ball into the box with ease but the finishing touch was not their. Sometimes of course Scott was their rebuking any such deliveries into the box. Rich, the Scarlet Pimpernel of soccernight, usually stalks the pitch, elusively evading defenders and scoring fabulous goals but tonight's game was different. He was seen on the wings trying to turn provider rather than being the finisher. Dan the newcomer has quickly earned a reputation for talent. His crowning moment was a fabulous headed goal from a corner, I think. It went straight to the top corner.

I'm not sure what went wrong. Admittedly the greens looked at sea for a while after I joined the game at 5.30 but somehow the dynamic changed and people were continually finding and occupying spaces as they observed them. they filled gaps left by the fellow team mates that ventured forward. Fluid football and it seemed to work.

Given time the Colours would have found there way and would have brought an even stronger contest.

No matter. The history books will record one thing: The greens won by 4 goals.

H5N1 found in Sportspark Footballers

Arriving late to tonight's game I saw a scene not unlike that presently going on in Diss. The numbers were very high and with no bibs everyone looked the same. I was immersed into this quagmire of confusion....Who the feck do I pass to? I was not alone in my dilemma.

En masse we looked like a frantic flock of Turkeys trying to avoid the hands of the blood thirsty cullers. The late arrival of Derby 'how do you spell relegation' Tim heralded the provision of the bibs. In an instant we had clarity of team members and a consequent realisation that our hectic display was not solely dependent on the absent bibs.

Despite this negative beginning the game had some fantastic moments and great battles. Man of the match was unquestionably Gerry. His Gandalf-like 'though shall not pass' performance was the perfect counter action to the ever present threat of Stefan. His magnificence was worth 6 or 7 goals. Little Tim was his superb defensive partner and the colours were engaged in far too many goal line scrambles but they seemed to handle most of the onslaughts.

Other performances were harder to pick out in the throng of players. The superfluid passing of recent games was not evident tonight. The game was fractured with disjointed interplay between team members.

Some contentious calls were made for handball. Taha was aggrieved at such accusations made against him though this may have offset his Dida-esque performance after a tussle with Stefan.

As for my own performance, I can honestly say that I just about managed a sweat after 50mins of play and was lucky enough to touch the ball on several occassions. My only saving grace was a nicely placed pass to David 'Ginola' Clifford in the last seconds of the contest. Despite some nice passes into the box earlier in the game Dave conjoured a miss in front on goal that left the teams on level pegging at 5 each. I was bemused that the colours has managed a draw as I was ready to accept a loss. On reflection however, I think Gerry's masterful display deserved the hard fought draw at the very least.

This friday vaccinations against bad passing will be available. I for one will be taking the jab and all subsequent boosters. Hopefully we can avoid displays of fractured passing in future games.

A Floody marvellous match!!!

Pre-match conversation revolved around the fact that Tim and Rich's schools were closed today because of the likelihood of flooding in the Yarmouth and Bungay areas this morning. Consequently, they had a day of doing bugger all apart from concentrating on their pre-match routines before Friday afternoon's big match. Surely, this would them a distinct advantage over the other Soccernighters who had done a full day's work before play commenced.

When we arrived at the hallowed plastic of Pitch A, we were distressed to see another bunch of lads warming up ready to play. Negotiations for them to "get off our land" and go to another pitch did not go well initially. Fortunately, the ever-efficient Guy was able to produce his booking slip which persuaded them to piss off to the non-hallowed pitch B.

We got off to a decent start - 6 vs 6 of the coldest night of the year so far. Plenty of running ahead, I thought. The sides were evenly balanced and a good five minutes of football ensued. Then, Darren turned up! (traditionally, the role of "late-comer to make the sides uneven" always seems to fall to Jas, but he was obviously unavailable this evening!!!)

So, 7 vs 6 it was then. The Colours, consisting of Shaughen, Rich, Tim, Simon, Guy, Tony and Piers would surely make the extra man count against the Greens: Chibb, the two Joes, Darren, Geir and myself. The Colours got off to a good start, dominating possession and scoring the odd goal here and there to take a deserved lead.

But suddenly, out of nowhere, the tide turned. The Greens started to play flowing football and produced wave after wave of attack. The Colours' defence was proving leaky as the Greens surged ahead for the first time in the game.

However, the Colours could not be stopped. 3 down with 5 minutes to go, the Greens seemed to have run out of steam and suddenly it was much harder to "KEEP THE BALL" and play it "SIMPLE"! The Colours scored two in quick succession and then an equaliser with the last kick of the game in about the 17th minute of time added on. (maybe it was the fourth!)

So, numerically the score was a draw, but the Greens were morally victorious, having played some great stuff, battled resiliently when they didn't have the ball and didn't resort to launching the ball twice from their own half to a lone striker standing two yards from the goal line to tap it in whilst playing with an extra man. (I'm not bitter or twisted!)

showertalk

Body count; 3

Gel used; High end Norwegian revitalising tonic, green, (Tor), Boots own brand with yucca supplement , yellow, (shared Darren, Guy)

Themes; Tors defensive worries, Tors long ball concerns, Tors anxiety at the return of the Rock, has he given his injury enough time to heal?

Trivia; To lighten the mood Darrren showed us a photograph detailing his leather pitcher collection

The Return of The Rock

Players,

The history of western civilisation is bespeckled with tales of the homecoming hero. Some mythical, some factual. All inspirational. From Odysseus' famous return in Homer's Odyssey, through Simba the Lion King returning to Pride Rock, all the way to ET going home and the fantastic journey of the Salmon as it returns thousands of miles to the place where it was spawned. Well now you can add one more to that list: Keith 'The Rock' Porter is back. Like the Homeric hero of Greek literature, Keith arrived fashionably late – not the ten years of the Greek warrior, but a mere minute – and the players strained their eyes in the gloom to see if they could still recognise him. He bestrode the hallowed green turf of the sportspark like a colossus (in the strictly metaphorical sense), imbibing a sense of awe and dread in equal measure amongst the younger members of the gathering who had only heard of him talked about in hushed, reverential tones by the more senior players who had known the pleasure of sharing a back four with 'The Rock'. Keith took a deep breath and surveyed the green expanse before him – a majestic vista triggering memories of so many former triumphs and mistimed tackles. Yes, the hero was back alright – and you should see the battle scars!

Your correspondent picked the teams, surprisingly well given his track record in that department. It turned out to be something of an oldies vs youngsters affair with The Rock reforming his fabled defensive partnership with fellow greens Tim, Peirs and Shaughen. Guy, Mark and Dan filled up the midfield and Pistol Pete and Stubbsy headed upfield to worrying glances from the opposition back line that consisted of Joe and Tor. That was all. In front of them Chib, Geir, Darren, and Joe's mate. Ploughing a lone furrow up front for the colours was Red Joe.

It didn't take long for the game to find its pattern; a continuous assault on the green goal from all sides that would have had Michael Caine and Stanley Baker quaking in their boots wishing they were back at Rourke's Drift with the Zulus bearing down on them.

Such was the ferocity of the bombardment. The greens fought a terrific rearguard action with several last ditch tackles on Joe, Chib, Geir et al as they seemed odds-on to score. The colours took an expected lead with Joe and Chib notching goals. The Greens dug deep and with the ever-steadying influence of Guy Armando Myhill strolling through the middle of the park, they began to dictate play. Pistol and Stubbsy fought for everything, Mark weaved on the left and hassled like a terrier but Tor and Joe were making life difficult. Constant pressure paid off though and a rush of goals came seeing the greens surge ahead. Suspecting the worst, a tactical change was made by the colours, fearing that age and guile would trump youth and inexperience, they went back to basics and launched an all-out aerial assault that would have been more at home over Dresden in Feb 1945. Cross after cross came in, green defenders being dragged all over the park. The inevitable happened and Joe was beginning to score for fun, sneaking in at the back post repeatedly – too much watching Benayoun Joe!

The game ebbed and flowed with both teams too polite to take the lead. Entering the final few minutes, disaster struck. In a rush of blood akin to the memorable Zaire team's unorthodox defending of a free kick http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sw8_LY6xajc Mark inexplicably batted away a corner with his hand. The greens were down. Still, someone once said football was a game of two halves and within minutes Mark had surged down the left, into the box, battled off two defenders and rifled the ball into the roof of the net. A goal fit enough to win any match and it exemplified all that is great about the English game – win it, run with it as fast as you can, and twat it really hard. I mean REALLY hard. But it was too little, too late. Keith had played a blinder but ended up on the losing side. But then every tale of the returning hero is tinged with an element of tragedy... it has to be that way.

Welcome back The Rock! It's good to see you again.

I'll leave you with a quote from that famous footballing philosopher Albert Camus, the Pete Doherty of soccer: All that i know most surely about morality and obligations, i owe to football. You know it's true. Live it.

The return of Marc Overmars

The teams lined up 8 vs 8 under the lights at the Astroturf. On paper it was agreed that the sides looked evenly matched. The first goal took a little while in coming for the greens as Billy broke the 'offside trap' on the right hand side and he lashed it into the back of the net for 1-0. There seemed to be momentary confusion about whether the ball was in the area when it left his boot, but it was soon agreed that the goal would stand.

The greens looked in control at this point. They were passing it around using slick one or two touch football all across the park and it came as little surprise that they went 2-0 up after a few more minutes. At the other end of the field of play the greens makeshift defence of Jerry and Rich did their best to keep the colours at bay, but after 25 minutes the colours managed to pull one back. Geir went on one of his trademark surges through the middle of the park and the greens were too slow to close him down. His killer pass found a fellow colour and it was game on once again at 2-1.

The colours failed to capitalise on this goal however, and the greens scored two more goals to make it 4-1 at the half way point. Simon had realised that the game might become more interesting if things were swapped around. He said that Geir needed a ball player to complement him in the middle of the park so Dan was switched for Dave and the game resumed. At first it seemed that little had changed as the greens bagged another goal.

Things certainly had changed on the pitch though as Billy came back into defence and Rich pushed up into his more familiar striking position. Barry was obviously worried about Rich's presence in his half of the field so he decided to push up into attack himself. That's the moment when he transformed into Marc Overmars, that Dutch left attacking midfielder who mauraudered down the Arsenal left in the late 1990's.

Super Bazza could do no wrong as he, Geir, Dan and Joe Z engineered a superb passage of play that brought the colours right back into the game at 6-6. The moves were flowing, the fighting attitude had returned and the game looked very evenly match now as super Bazza jinked his way through the colours defence on no less than three occasions to score quality goals that Robin van Persie would have been proud of. He was thwarted for a 4th time only by a block from Marcus that stopped the ball from sailing into the top left corner.

Time was ticking and it looked as if the game may end as a draw. The greens had certainly had their fair share of chances as they had three cleared off the line and Rich also hit the bar when perhaps he should have scored. A moment of inspiration between Rich and Frazer had looked to have secured a winner for the greens as Rich played a one two with Frazer deep in the right side of the field. Rich was in the area and took his time to place the ball into the colours goal with the side of his foot.

There was to be a final twist in the tale though as the colours midfield, led by Geir Almlid but supported ably by Marc Overmars scored two quick goals in succession and the colours were in the lead for the only time in the game, but the only time that matters! The greens has lost it at the death... 7-6 the final score.

This was a truly superb match, hopefully enjoyed by all involved. A draw was probably a fair result if truth be told - but the day belonged to Super (Overmars) Bazza - for the performance of the night!

THE LATE REPORT

There was quality, but not consistency. There were goals, but some of them were flukes. There was tension, but a fair bit of it was internal squabbling amongst the greens.

The colours had a tasty midfield, but resorted to long, long, long … into the box for young Joe to throw his head at. It was effective, but would you pay to watch it? The greens had plenty of age and guile, but hoofed the ball every which way.

There were culprits and there were saviours. Billy and Shaushaaughggghhhenn were slapping the ball all over the show. Guy and Rich were picking up the pieces.

It was a game of spells, but alas they weren’t the magical kind. Guy reckoned the bibs were unlucky, and Darren confessed to missing a hatful. Tony decided he's was Ian Dowey, then reverted to being Kevin Bond. Well, let's be fair: Tony Adams.

Geir gave his usual performance of composure and effectiveness. Sam continued to impress with strength and neat passing in midfield. Chibb turned in an unexpected turn at the back. Rich was getting up and down the field, trying to spark the greens into something that gelled.

Then there was Joe Z. Does anyone know what tablets he’s been taking? Talk about Transformer Man! He’s up and down, his foot’s in there winning tackles that matter, he’s going past players with ease, he delivering balls that count, and he’s getting into the D with menace. Rumour has it he’s opening a Soccer School, and I’ll be the first to sign up. Most Improved Payer doesn’t do justice to his new presence on the astro turf.

The greens did manage to stay in the game, despite the strength and pace of the shirts. Until, that is, Derby Tim magically flew up to the other end of the field and the bibs leaked four quick and sloppy goals. To their credit, the old lags dragged themselves back into contention. Tim was carrying an injury, so it was a quick re-shaping job.

At last, the game was a match, and it was now that the shirts started to hoist the ball into the D. Everyone was scrapping for every ball and the scoreline was tight. The shirts deservedly held out, winning by one.

And Taha still hasn’t passed the ball.

The Referee's Alphabet

Greetings players

As promised - The Referee's Alphabet. By British Institution Half Man Half Biscuit.

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=Vh6V3_WLkb4

So the next time it's all going wrong for your team and you're throwing your cheapo industrial strength co-op lager at the TV and berating the man in the middle, while the dog runs for cover behind the sofa and the wife sighs resignedly, stop for a second and consider where the game would be without him. Yes, It's easy to knock the likes of Mr Poll (lord knows he makes it easy) but at times it's the loneliest job in the world; especially after you've just booked that Croatian defender for the third time.

My favourite: U is for the umpire i sometimes wish i'd been instead - you never hear a cricket crowd chanting 'Who's the bastard in the hat?'

Adios amigos - hope to see you Fri.

Tim

Bonus points to anyone who can actually remember Romeo Zondervan.... Rich?

Vintage Cars and babe magnets

It was good. It was damn good.

For those of you who were there, there were no medals and no crowds of adoring fans. There will be no tv footage to see later tonight with Alan Hansen redirecting blood to his member in growing admiration of the spectacle of football that enters each of his eyes, gets physically inverted, impacts on his retinas, travels through his optical nerves, registers in his visual cortex and through the vagaries of synesthesia makes him see sounds, smell colours and gifts him a football erection. None of this matters as tonight's game was reward enough.

Pre-game banter brought mention of recent games where attacking football was of good calibre but defensive frailties had been brutally exploited. 5pm on the 26th October saw the start of an all round high calibre game.

Team selection involved sorting the vintage Green cars from the modern, beautiful, sporty performance vehicles (in assorted colours). Of course I was in the latter category and the opening 10 minutes saw a 0-60 in 4.3 seconds for the colours while the the vintage greens struggled with the choke and then flooded their engines. Guy and Billy, who both lived through the discovery of technologies like fire and early horseless carriages, were, like the lovable VW Herbie, going bananas.

In scenes reminicent of the now legendary turtle and hare race the vintage greens caught the colours and proceeded to hurtle into the lead. Unlike the losing hare, the diamond encrusted Ferraris of the colours revved their engines and regained level pegging with vintage cars. This scintillating contest went to the wire and ended up with both sides sharing the honours. This parity should of course come with a caveat: The vintage greens were burning oil later in the game and had the finish line been extended the fanny magnet Ferraris would surely have surpassed them....even I could beat Paula 'why does her head move that weird way' Radcliffe over 50 metres.

In other news:

1. we say the debut of Dan. He proved he had ample talent and had obviously played amongst gifted footballers like ourselves before. He'll back I'm sure.

2. Joe Z traded in his studded football boots for the shiny black astroturfs he donned tonight. Pele must have hand-stitched them and brought up the shine with the essence of football genius that is his earwax. Joe put in some fantastic early defensive moves and great passes and made a memorable goal line clearance.

3. Peirs, who may shorlty find himself on the New Years honours list for defensive services on Wednesday's and Friday's, was having another classic game. Such was his temerity and confidence that he cockily waltzed out of defence on one occassion rounded an oncoming green and gracefully effected a pass to Geir. Champagne stuff. Have you been to Micah Richard's soccer camp? I unfortunately attempted a similar manouevre with less success ie an easy opposition goal....doh.

4. Doug who had been crucial in defence on several occassions was injured during the game and decided to step off the field of play. Luke using Jedi mind tricks forced Doug to occupy the opposition goal mouth. The tactical move was repaid handsomely with Doug scoring two goals, the pick of the two for me being the off the crossbar onto his face and into the goal. They all count.

5. Guy, who I'm sure nipped off the pitch to open a can of spinach, take a proton pill and drench his joints in WD-40, carved out a trade mark run down the greens left hand side. With Fred Astaire grace he weaved through the defence and set up Taha (not sure how that name is spelt, sorry). Taha should also get a mention for not only for that finish but for the rest of his game. very much a strong figure on the left hand side he showed some greatstrenght in possession and good quality link up play.

6. The colours had a point man in the form of Stefan. Not his normal position, stef was carrying an buttock injury he picked in regional qualifier for the 2012 sex olympics; the triple thrust with concomitant figure of eight manouevre is a high scoring technique with the judges. Despite the gold medal, I still think that football should come first! nevertheless, an injured Stefan is a formidalble footballing entity and he was superb upfront.

7. Geir who as you now all know from the recent email correspondance sports massive lobsided testicles which must be in the perfect configuration to play football properly. Whatever banana hammock was on tonight was doing a good job as Geir was picking the ball up at every opporuntiy and putting in some sublime passes that are his trade mark.

8. Derby Tim was back and obviously has not lost his footballing prowess. Together with Gerry who also made a much welcome return, they formed an, as anticipated, great green defence.

To be quite frank this list could go on. Unfortunately I can't remember everybodies name. The colours, my own team mate, had a guy from latin america I think, who was outstanding again. Control, composure and read the game with ease. He had a superb defensive header which saw him get supremely high off the ground.. a salmon-esque leap.

In fact, everyone seemed to have enhanced powers tonight. The first touch control was at a standard I have not seen before. The pace of the game was fast. the skills were decent. There were no great debates over decisions. I was not even aware of the scores.

We were 4 up at one point. I didn't realise and I didn't care.

They were 4 up at one point. I didn't realise and didn't care.

The football was magic. I realised that and I did care.

bravo to us all.

Grumpy Bastard

Apologies to regular blogger viewers who logged on hoping to read erudite comments from the games on the last 2 Wednesdays. I have been a grumpy git after the last two Wed games and 'could not be arsed' to write anything about either game.

I call upon my fellow authors to help me through my period of 'writer's block' and 'grumpy gittedness' and help me out in my time of need.

Anyone fancy writing something vaugely interesting after tonight's battle?

Are you f#cking Blind Referee!

Arriving late to the game I was sequestered to the colours and immediately noticed the ominous sight of Geir 'Pressure Pressure' and and Guy 'Hold Hold' both wearing green bibs. What fool let this situation manifest? Surely it is common knowledge that such a combination should not be permitted in the same way that Michael Jackon should not be put in charge of a naturist camp's creche.

Though havoc and carnage was anticipated it never manifest. Despite great talent on the ball these maestros all too often purveyed the scene in front on them and yelped frustration as they saw little option for a killer pass.

Plaudits must of course be issued and placed at the feet of a fabulous Colours defence which engineered this frustration. Barry 'He who knows where the ball will be and can play it out of defence' was in sparkling form and was ably abetted by an excellent performance by Piers. Rich was crucial at the back too and given the opportunity to head up front scored some cracking goals.

Going through the midfield we had the ever dynamic Tim who not only crossed the ball sweetly for some magic chances but was also part of a wonderful goal that involved a back heel from one of the new recruits (the Beard and red shirt) followed by a flick from Tim for the finish. Bravo and all the hail the flare and pizzazz of the Colours.

'Red shirt' had great confidence on the ball and some nice backheels throughout the game and was generous and incisive with his passing. For this game he had brought a friend, 'Grey shirt' who seemed to occupy the left hand wing. He too had some moves but could have benefitted from more frugal use of the drag back and more incisive passing. Nonetheless he engineered some good passes and scooped a few goals.

Marcus was omnipresent. he seemd to appear up front and then midfield and then on the goal line. In a quiet moment he relayed to me that he was worried about some of the stronger (or possibly clumsy) challenges going. With an imminent trip to Brazil for gender reassignment surgery and marriage to a billionaire primordial dwarf to consider we may not see Marcus for some time.

Upfront I suffered frustration myself at the hands of Shaughen and Momadu who seemed the stay tight on me for the immediate hussle if the ball came near.

The increasing spectre of foul play apparated again today with dodgey decisions in the eyes of the opposing sides being contested with vigour. Only moments ago, and in an effort to evade future problems, I purchased a FIFA trained Hawk. Though this technology has been abandoned by FIFA the principle is sound. The Hawk will circle overhead and when it spots an infringement it will call out in its distinct way and land on a member of the team that has won possession. Those feigning injury and attempting to claim a throw or goal unfairly will be viciously descended upon and have their scalps clawed until such a profusion of blood is ushering forth that all will realise that such blaggard-like behaviour will be futile and require the victim to become Sikh and always wear a turban to obscure the hideouness which will be the remnants of their rule-flouting scalp.

Hopefully, the Hawk, named Scalpy, will be available next week and will prevent the myriad handballs (soon to be called Joe-balls such was his tally today) that plagued today's game.

Overall the colours deserved the win and this they attained by a respectable margin of several goals. They didn't maintain a set structure, except in the defence, but the players moved and passed sufficiently well to get the goals.

David vs. Goliath

What did he say to them at half time? Whatever it was it didn't really work did it? Let's be perfectly honest...

OK for 5 minutes the greens looked like they might turn the game round as the colours let them score a couple of goals to make them feel better about themselves - but it was never really going to happen was it?

Way back in April, Mr Hampton inspired his team at half time with a similar 'talk' that rallied his troops and the game miraculously swung back in their favour. Tonight there were no miracles. Tonight there was no comeback. Tonight the green team rarely strung more than 2 passes together. Tonight the colours toyed with them, nonchalantly passing the ball around at the back, through the middle and were lethal in front of goal.

Tonight was David against Goliath - and the little Guy (no pun intended) didn't win!

HE'S BACK

When Guy Diego Armando Myhill made his way towards the centre spot after skipper Si Hamptons pep talk earlier this evening, all the things that make the game worthwhile suddenly came flooding back.

What was the phrase Dickens used in A Tale of Two Cities? "Recalled to life", wasn't it?

Those were the words that sprang to mind as Myhill, bright-eyed and looking relatively slender inside his beloved Forest shorts, brilliantly led the line on the revered Sportspark plastic.

The 5 goals delivered were simply beautiful. A deft combination of a honed technique and strikers guile.

Only just over a month ago, after all, some of us were starting to compose obituaries, fearing that he had reached his sell by date.

Inside and outside football, Myhill's life has been studded with bad news, from the consequences of his severe cocaine addiction through his fraternisation with Yarmouth gangs to a knee-stapling operation which appears to have resolved the problem that gave him the turning power of the QE2.

Some Englishmen, too, may never forgive him for the artful deception that turned a World Cup quarter-final Argentina's way some 20 odd years ago.

But you only have to whisper the names of Billy Gallagher, Stefan Clifford, Tony Dyer and Barry Halkyard, authors of assaults that significantly altered his career, to be reminded that however much Myhill may have sinned, his own crimes pale in comparison to those once committed against him virtually every week of his professional life.

It was good to see him back, and to be reminded that, even in football, sooner or later the catalogue of greed and violence gives way to an explosion of beauty.

Triumph of English Football

Greetings sports fans and welcome to the first blog from the pen of that soon to be famous internet blogger Doctor S!





Before providing a blow by blow match report of last night's entertainment allow me the indulgence of sharing a few personal facts with you.





Firstly, I am not a doctor of medicine so no point calling for assistance next time you go down on the astropitch clutching your leg in agony. I am a doctor of medical statistics and as such will only be able to give you the odds of complete recovery, amputation or death. I will however, from the statistical point of view, be able to sprinkle my match reports with the odd statistical fact to which you can shake your head and mutter 'Well, I never'.





Secondly, as some of you already know, my preferred sport is rugby, both to watch and play. This has been the case ever since I was a wee lad at school. I have always felt more comfortable holding on tightly to elongated balls rather than kicking those odd round ones. Do not, however, take this as an implication that I am a good rugby player: I am simply marginally less crap at rugby than I am at soccer. I recently played a game in which my team lost 100-Nil. This is a bad score in rugby (or indeed any sport) and should give an indicator of my prowess on the rugby field.





However, I am always happy to invoke my unfamiliarity with soccer rules, tactics and phrases as an excuse for doing poorly on the soccer pitch. Perhaps what is most confusing is not the differences between the two games but some of the similarities. In soccer you try to score a goal, whilst in rugby the goal is to score a try. Rugby never involves looking at the feet: trying to look down to see the ball and up to see players is a task I'm still struggling with. I also occasionally forget that the ball has to go into the goal and not simply over the try line (it does make a difference...). Some calls have been rather baffling. 'Along the line' or 'Line ball' I have recently discovered means down the pitch along the touch line; in rugby it would mean across the pitch at a 90 degree angle to the touch line; 'Switch' in rugby means alter the direction of play not pass across this pitch (that would be 'Along the line'); and I'm afraid I have no idea what 'square ball means' (square ball...?). Another subtle difference I discovered some time ago is in the defining of when the ball is out of play. When I first started playing, I was convinced we had some real cheaters who continued to play the ball after it had clearly gone out of play. I have since learnt that the ball has to go over the touch line to be out of play; in rugby it simply has to go on to the touch line to go out of play (though you may be confused to learn that the ball could in theory be wholly over the touch line in rugby yet still be in play...anyone know how?). Oh, and heading the ball is a totally alien and slightly distasteful idea me.





Now, to the real business of last night.





There was something eerily unfamiliar about the pitch at 5pm last night. For the first time in months one could see the far side of the pitch; there was no longer a jostling for space and passing lengths averaged more than 17 inches. Rather than the all too frequent 12 a-side games we were back to just 16 on the pitch. Possibly a sign of the cooler weather coming in (do football player migrate in the same way sparrows do?).



An interesting decision was to go for another classic 'Them' and 'Us' game. I recall we went for a an age-ist game once where all the olds played all the youngsters. Last night we went along national lines and had English v Foreign People (is that still a PC term or should it be Englishly-challenged?). As luck would have it, with the appearance of Doug we had an all English side take on the rest in what looked like two well balanced teams.





The first goal was a little while coming (4' 22" according to my imagination) as Tore scored a cracking goal after tearing open the English defence. The English quickly rallied though with a lightening strike from Pete. A second came less than two minutes later as Stef punished the non-English for a silly passing error in their own area. After a tough battle in mid-field with the likes of Guy and Chib taking on Frasier and that small chap who is very quick but whose name escapes me an excellent pass put Geir into a great scoring position. The first strike hit the cross-bar but a lucky bounce allowed him to make it evens. 2-2 after 12 minutes.





The next break for the English resulted in a penalty goal after a very clear and cynical handball from someone (Tony??). Chib then took it to 4-2. From here it was all down hill for the Non-English with goals coming thick and fast against them (mainly thick but I think there was a fast one too). Guy assures me his was the best of the evening though I failed to notice it myself.





Notable performances came from Piers scoring 2/3rds of a hat-trick (his first ever fraction of a hat-trick I believe); some good runs from Darren and Richie; a strong solid defence from Simon for the English. There was an interesting game of heading tennis between Tony and Stef on the non-English goal line and Dave demonstrated an interesting pass back technique. The ball would have gone direct to my feet had I been standing in the middle of the bushes at the end of the car park.

The non-English battled on bravely (despite losing Tore due to injury/sickness) but were never looking likely to challenge the English dominance of the mid-field, despite some fast paced attacks towards the end of the game. Final score: Greens (Non-English): 8 Non-Greens (English) 12.

Interesting facts: Shepstone assessed entertainment factor: 8/10.

Oldest person on the pitch: Shaughen claimed the title though I think (chronologically speaking) Tony gets my vote.

MYSTERY PROFILE

Here is the mug of this week's mystery player. You may recognise him from the regular calls of "Ooooh, luuuuuvley ..." when a shot or a tackle or a pass meets with his approval.

He's fond of playing on the right wing but has been known to fill in at left back, and bemoan the lack of support very publicly.

Most notable though are those dubious goals that he scores with the very tip of his spiky hair. His arm raises in celebration as he wheels around to claim the goal that even some of his team mates cringle to add to their tally. Not this man: the ball only has to be in the proximity of his 1970s haircut and he's grinning like a garden gnome.

One of the cheerier members of our game, he's up for the craic and even when he's involved in a dispute a smile is never far from his face. Versatile, comitted, with a deft touch and an eye for goal, he's a great lad to have on your side.

"Handball!" he's been known to cry of late, with the authority of one who knows he has appointed himself referee. Or "Never!" when the other team claims what he considers to be a doubtful shout. But he's known to be fair, and even his match reports have a gothic flair.

Who is he?

And why the mug?

Smash and grab raid by the Colours!

The fun had already begun tonight before the match started. An ambulance was stationed at the edge of the pitches - speculation was rife about the reason for its appearance - maybe the NHS are following this blog and think we are all in need of a trip to Hellesdon Hospital!


The observant Guy also noticed another pre-match oddity - the sight of Richard heading towards the Reception after a discussion with a Sportspark member of staff. His crime appeared to be one of sneaking in through the gate from the car-park, left open for the previously-mentioned ambulance. When he eventually arrived pitchside, the fuming Richard stated that he had admitted the offence but had shown the chap his Sportscard pass. Richard was nevertheless accused of the possibility that it might be out of date and that he needed to go back to Reception. But Richard had the last laugh because he actually never made the full journey back but hid by the toilets for a few seconds!!!!!!!

Anyway, onto the action. Darren's arrival made it 8 vs 8 and it was a pretty even match overall. The Greens dominated territory throughout proceedings but the Colours repelled the majority of attacks and were lethal on the counter attack. I can't recall too much of the action as my mental notepad only kicked in at around 10 to 6 when I was asked to do the report. But highlights include:


*Darren's flick finish that finished a flowing Colours move.
*Darren's flick backpass that some duffer managed to prevent going in for an own goal.
*Richard's finishing. Norwich City haven't scored for over 5 matches, surely the only thing preventing a Stubbs call-up is that Ipswich away top!
*The Colours midfield of Guy, Billy and Stef - total domination going forward.
*Confusion after Tor's injury. Shaughen had apparently told Richard to don a bib and he suddenly appeared in the Green's attack! Fortunately, this was short lived and he returned to his true Colours shortly after.


The lasting memory of this game was the Colours rearguard action. A true team effort and strong work ethic made all the difference led the Colours to a win that looked easy on paper but in reality was a hard-fought battle.

The Norwich 1

Not since the Birmingham 6 and Guildford 4 has an Irish man felt so hard done by on English soil as this blogger did tonight at left back. From now on I am the Norwich 1.

Sporting an injury and returning from a weeks absence, I had been warned that the wedensday game had become a calamity of players. Tonights game was no exception with the pitch and players looking like that nest of rats under the shed that have just been exposed to the light and scarper in panic.

Despite the density of footballers the game play was not disturbed even when a local coastguard search and rescue helicopter landed on the non-bibs left back position! Watching the helicopter take off the greens decided that there was unexploited space there and promptly sent their talented sorties to do just that. In moments of delerium I almost believed I was watching Harry Potter, Hermione and Ron roaming unnoticed on the left hand side under their wonderous invisibility cloaks...surely those green bibs haven't been enchanted I asked myself. Was I the only one who could see the 5 greens occupying that area all by their lonesomes. Just in case I did have Dumbledore-esque qualities that had lay latent all these years only to be unveiled in this match, I decided to shout as best as I could to inform my non-bib fraternity of the paucity of players on that side and of the imbalance in our structure. I must admit that I was getting pissed off at the sound of my own voice repeating the same shite again and again. (By the way I looked up the FIFA Guide on Football and Alan Hansen's dictionary of Football and learned that the system we were playing was called the 'Cluster-f*ck' formation. It was first used by the Mongolian National team when they played the under-21 national team in small dark Yurt which at the time was also housing their respective families and goats. There was also no ref or lines men at that game either).

Having subtley mentioned the foibles in the non-bib positional play it must be remembered that the greens were incapable of assailling the defence for some time in the first phase of the game. The game was tight; congestion more than talent playing a hand in the low scoring. The non-bibs took and held a lead of 4-1 for some considerable time but quick succession of goals brought the greens on par with some special efforts being put in by Stefan 'overhead kicks off the crossbar' Clifford.

In the end the game ended with victory for the non-bibs. I'm not sure if it was a fair result as the greens seemed to hit the post quite a lot and in part because I didn't enjoy the game that much.

Other things to note were:

1. The sad departure of Rob who was defending brilliantly (on the middle and right hand side!) for the non bibs. Three players coming together resulted in an accidental cut on his chin. I hope the cut is not too bad and doesn't stop him from coming back friday. Locker room gossip has it that Tony is looking for an apology from Rob since the chin incident left him with a bruise!

2. The amazing transfiguration of Dug into several different players every 10 mins!

3. The incosistency of 2 handball decisions...The one for the non-bibs goal was as obvious as and as certain as those drunk boob-tube wearing harlots that look worse than ladies of the night and don't even have the common sense to earn some money from letting anything with a sac and an erection spill his lust in her love glove.

4. Two people didn't pay!

5. My foot is still sore.

Well there's my installment. Laced with personal trauma and bitterness but sure it's good to get it off your chest.

Slan agus beannacht

Player Profile #1 - Billy Gallagher

Billy is a tough geordie lad and a great competitor. He is rather nomadic on the pitch, but can often be found playing at the back or in midfield rather than as a striker. He does however pop up with the odd goal - and they can often be quite spectacular.

Even though he is not one of our youngest Soccernight members he gets up and down the pitch, has a great work ethic and gives his all in every match and expects his team mates to also.

He can often be heard at the other end of the pitch yelling phrases such as "You gotta get back lads", or "Fellas we can't have three players up front", or even "Lads you gotta take your turn at the back, not everyone can play up front!"
(It is no coincidence that these phrases often come out when his team is losing)

All in all he's a very useful player and one you'd really like to have on your team...

Football is a game of three thirds

Football is a game of two halves they say - what goes wrong in the first 45 minutes can be restored by a winning performance in the second half, or vice versa. Our match today consisted of three thirds, although mathematicians would tell you that each third did certainly not last 20 minutes each.

The match was played on the 'next generation' astroturf pitches where some of the tennis courts used to be and the surface was very different to the one we normally play on. Guy said 'it's like grass', whilst another said 'it's like my granny's living room carpet.' There were 'blades' of some sort and the whole pitch was covered in black soot like stuff which took for ever to wash off yourself in the shower after the game.

Against his better judgement Rich let Simon (above left) pick the teams. Having looked at the evidence in this photograph I now know why he got them completely wrong - just look carfeully at his eyes! Rich and Guy looked at each other before a ball was kicked and realised that they were going to be 'under the cosh a bit.' What an understatement. The colours simply brushed past the greens in the first third of the game, and after about 10-15 minutes they were six goals up without reply. Swift one touch pass and move from Tor, Geir, Fraser, Pete, Chib, Tony and Dave simply couldn't be matched by the greens who looked rather out of sorts on this new style pitch.

Rich questioned whether things should continue like this and eventually an agreement was made to give the greens one of their players in the shape of Clifford brother #1 aka. Dave. This seemed to have little effect, as the colours went on to score another 5 goals without reply. Effectively the score was 11-0 after two thirds of the contest.

A rather more wholesale change was made for the final 'third' of the game as other players swapped teams and at last we had a contest. The core of the colours team was still operating extremely effectively as Tor, Pete, Chib and Fraser had plenty of good ammunition to fire at the greens defence. The greens this time made goals of their own with Guy and Geir pulling the strings for the new look greens in the last 20 minutes.

The whole game was a rather frenetic affair as of course the pitch was bordered by a 'wall' and the ball could only go out of play if kicked high up over the walls. Players such as Shaughen (by his own admission) found this non-stop game rather too much and found the whole game rather tiring. Indeed several players were complaining of 'cramping up' at the end - even though most of them had really enjoyed the whole experience. 'I really enjoyed that', declared Tor as he headed back to the changing rooms. Conversely, Rich and Shaughen really didn't like the new pitch very much and both agreed they will be looking forward to returning to the tried and trusted surface on Wednesday.

It's a funny old game isn't it?

ASTROTURF WAR

From the off, this one was a battle. Massed armies lined up and no sooner was the ball in play then it was in the net. Simon's left footed launch into the D was crashed into the net by Wes's mighty brow.

An instant reply by the shirts set the tone for this game. Tit for tat. End to end. Goal for goal. Tackles were flying in, the midfield was packed, but surprisingly much of the play was pass-and-move stuff. At least until the last twenty minutes.

The intensity was there from the start - not just between teams, but between teammates. Gier's constant cry for "Pressure, pressure, pressure - get in close!" and Billy's (over) familiar battle cry for more effort kept things vocal.

Goals at either end kept the game close and so the tension mounted and the tackles became more desperate. You might say it got a bit fraught, or you might say it's great that the games are played with such intensity and desire to win. A few fouls, one or two disputed decisions. The boiling point was coming. Who was going to crack?

Mark and Shaughen at the back for the shirts were sticking their heads in where it counts, Luke and Lee for the Greens were doing the same. Tony was giving everything, Fraser was somehow managing to find cute little passes in amongst the mayhem. Guy and Stef took a grip of the midfeild, and for the first time in the game the Shirts pushed ahead. Not for long.

Wes was box to box, and the Shirts' youngwhipper-snappers were showing some cheeky little touches around the D. Tackles were - let's say - fiesty. A slippery little header from Rich brought a goal that enjoyed congratulations from Stef. The generosity of spirit between teams was short-lived.

So much incident, so much to play for, time running out, something had to give. Long balls started to pound each box, a shove here, a trip there, and half a dozen different versions of what the score was.

Then there were the man-on-man confrontations. With five minutes to go it was almogst time to call in the UN. It all got a bit personal. But would we have it any other way?

How many players a side? Who knows! Too many to count, and too chaotic to name names. There were cries for volunteers to join the game on the next pitch. Any takers? As Chib put it, "We've all got too much emotional investment in this one!"

And that about sums it up.

As for the finishing, well ...

New Authors?

Just a quick post to invite anyone who wants to become an author on this blog site. We have 5 authors already (Rich, Barry, Darren, Billy and Derby Tim) and it is great to read all about the games with very different styles of reporting.

I particularly enjoying reading Darren's and Barry's recent posts and would welcome anyone to join in and write some of their own (even if they are not humourous like mine tend to be ;).

If you want author status then just email me at ricstu@btinternet.com and I'll add you to the list.

See you Wednesday...

Rich

Why did the baker have brown hands?

Before I begin, I would just like to quote from Darren's superb review of the action last Friday.

"From my view point it seemed that Billy, who recently admitted that he was part of the construction team that built Stonehenge, was the most motile of players."

Such a great sentence, I fear that none of mine will come close to matching this quality, despite me not knowing the meaning of at least one of the words.

Well here goes.....

Two strong looking line-ups took to the SportsPark of Dreams this evening. Conditions were perfect for a fast-flowing game and it was also not 23-a-side which was also a bonus!

The Greens scored with the first movement of the match with Simon, Darren and Rich combining before the Colours even touched the ball. This prefaced a passage of play where the Greens, with the extra player at this point, seemed to be completely dominant and were rampaging through a helpless opposition. Admittedly, there were some forays into Greens territory but these were repelled by Luke, Marcus and Piers. The Colours raised their white flag after 15 minutes or so and Luke became a Colour.

Many assumed that this would be the turning point of the game and that the tide would turn in the Colours direction. However, whilst the Colours seem to dominate in terms of possession and territory, intermittent Greens breakaways were fruitful more often than not. The youthful Billy and Guy were pulling the midfield strings and popping balls through for Tor and Zak to capitalise on.

After 30 minutes, the Colours were 6 goals behind and they were saved further punishment by the game restarting at 0-0. But confusion reigned from this point, as it seemed that some were unaware of the restart and even the most meticulous of score-keepers were at odds with each other over the correct scoreline.

The second half of the game was more evenly contested scorewise with it being level at the end. Most of the game took place in the Greens half and waves of Colour attacks were fended off. Tor's mobility and strength in the air and Zak's sheer pace and skill caused all sorts of problems in the Green defence and Frazer (pictured) was a constant thorn in the Green's side. But, the resolute Greens defence, kept the score down with some timely interceptions and a few desperate clearances. Meanwhile, Geir was managing to link the Green defence and attack and left winger Simon seemed to always be available as an outlet. When the Colours did score, Darren and Rich seemed to get on the end of many a Green breakaway to keep them in the game.

The "highlight" of the game for me was to see the Tony and Guy partnership in action. It was appropriate they were playing for the "Colours" and they played with such "style". Their passes were continually "cutting" the Greens defence to shreds and their team-mates were often left on the "fringe" of proceedings. One of Guy's "curled" passes will remain in the memory for a long time (maybe "perm"anently!).

In years to come, tonight will be remembered as the day the Greens won the first leg by six and ground out a draw in the second leg of the tie. This was a famous Greens victory considering they were a man short for three-quarters of the game!

And the punchline you've been waiting for: Because he was kneading a shit!

Where did all the space go?

Even with space at a premium tonight the goals didn't stop coming as the colours forced their way to a reasonably comfortable win by three goals against the greens.

Ten men played eleven, so this was the kind of game for skills players like Geir, Zak, Stefan, Guy, Little Tim (see left) and Tor to control the ball on a sixpence, with little backheels and dragbacks in the minutest of spaces on the pitch.

Thankfully the game didn't deteriorate into a Wimbledon style hoof and hope up to the forwards as, for the most part, the ball was kept on the ground in the midfield melee.

Geir and Stefan were doing their best to control midfield for the colours and get the ball up to Joe, Rich or Fraser, but there was simply never enough space for any kind of real flowing movement on a pitch this size.

Luke and Simon did a good job at the back for the colours, and Rob, Lee and latterly Tor did a good defensive job for the greens.

And they smote their enemy for their lack of passion

Even in distant lands the deep rumblings that emanated from Valhalla this evening where felt by unknowing foreigners.

The heroes residing there revelled in the glorious performances of their kinsmen, Tor and Geir (pictured upper left and right, resepectively). These legends from the North were punishing in their attacks on their Green opponents with an outstanding and let's face it consistently good performance from Geir.

The contest had begun with Darren and Shaughen on Greens and Colours, respectively. After some play the Greens had amassed a lead with some marvellous play by the ever talismanic and talented Guy. Great plaudits are deserving of Billy who consistently manisfested himself in the right places to hassle and more often than not take the ball from opposition attackers; a role not always lauded but so important especially when done so consistently and from an individual that makes incisive and often telling runs down the wings and into the box.

Such sterling ambition resulted in a comfortable lead for the Greens who decided that a change was necessary to attain equivalence.

The aforementioned Darren and Shaughen swapped sides and the game took on a new appearance. At the moment of change Simon 'Collosus at the Back' Hampton made an important decision of looking around and declaring the structure of those who would remain at the back and those who would stay further outfield. This master stroke gave great balance to the team. Simon was calm, composed and collected nearly all incoming speculative efforts from the Greens including some high calibre runs and turns from Guy and Rich. Indeed moments after decrying their teams inability to pass like the colours Rich and Guy executed an exquisite piece of passing that led to a goal. This, however, was not enough to calm their frustrations. The Greens lacked cohesion and seemed, despite their extra player, to have no one to pass to. A lack of movement seemed to be the issue. From my view point it seemed that Billy, who recently admitted that he was part of the construction team that built Stonehenge, was the most motile of players. I heard the rallying cries from the Greens but their efforts were futile.

With Green woes documented it has to be admitted that the colours simply put on a dazzling display. The defence was solid with Simon centre and Frazer and Baz on either side. These players were not only in the right place at the right time they also exhibited some wonderful close quarters passing in front of goal to get the ball out. With simon commanding the centre Frazer and Barry had ample opportunity to get forward and put in some great passing moves. In defensive situations Geir often dropped deep to take on the ball that was passed out from the competent defence. In front of him were Tor and Darren who put on excellent runs to confuse the Greens defences and on many occassions put away the crafted magnificence that was Geir's pass. Even with a failed attempt on goal it was the positive play of the colours that aided them. Barry and Frazer pushed forward to aid in attack and force the Greens back. Even when in their possession for a kickout the colours hassled every player with the ball and tried to block the angles for passing.

Despite the great and successful counter attacking of the Colours, the Greens defence was admirable with a great debut from Rob.

For man of the match I am opting for the man who would captain the Valhalla 11-a-side team, Geir, though I was tempted with putting Bill in their. A tighter game would have been attained if more Greens had his work rate.

Having said all that it may simply be down to the luck of the Irish. After wednesday's poor performance Darren was destined to be on the winning side!