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...