Not since Canterbury ’09 have most of us had to endure the pain of two games of hockey in two days and after this weekend some of us still haven’t. The potential banana skin of a double-header weekend was dealt with clinically and effectively – as ever built on a solid defence and some expert clearing of our lines.
Saturday’s game 1 saw us playing at a school in the middle of an Industrial estate - the charmingly named Longmead Industrial estate. At this juncture I can’t help but think back to hockey tours at University and games against the likes of Terassa which immediately conjure images of breathtaking backdrops, mountains and glorious blue skies. Here in England we invariably get rain, and backdrops of light indusrial units and warehouses. Maybe a derelict tennis court if we are really lucky. I can’t imagine why Christiano Ronaldo wanted to leave Manchester to move to Madrid.
But back to reality though and more pressing matters - the glorious overly-worn poorly maintained Astroturf in the middle of the Industrial estate. As most people will probably know, an age-old proverb suggests something about a bird catching a worm with his timing being all important.
Remember this.
Pulling up to the pitch with a pat on the case and some words of congratulation for Tom (Tony’s in-car one man directional support system) we were amazed to see Budgie was already there gaily smashing the ball against the backboard, taking the return and repeating the cycle again. And again. And again.
Epsom looked disjointed and rudderless and we wanted to capitalise on this by maintaining the impressive form that had seen us hammer South Africa 5-0 the week before. Quite simply however, we didn’t and it took us a while to muster any meaningful attack. Luckily for us our own disjointed start was not punished by Epsom and we set about putting together a tactical masterpiece of a scorchio rapido move that would have even Harry from Spooks looking on in awe. M.I.FFFFvck you Harry! The Prodigal ginger son in the middle of the field fed the Mumcut express on the right who took on a few defenders before firing in a cross for Biggles to misdirect in to the back of the net. One-Nil to the good guys.
The second half started in much the same way as the first had ended with a few moans from Epsom. A few years ago I could have said that these protestations, complaints and constant whining fell on deaf ears. Not anymore though - Dave has left the building.
Luckily one of the Mitchell brothers had been drafted in from Ramsay Street or wherever it is Eastenders is set these days to umpire and was having none of it. When you have flushed Ian Beale’s head down a toilet on National TV and interviewed Street gangs in Jo’burg you can eat fat balding red-faced spooks character lookalike wannabes for breakfast, and so he did.
A second goal soon arrived and although there was some controversy and further arguing/complaining/toys out of pram type stuff from the men in maroon it stood and we had the buffer and comfort of a two goal cushion we would ultimately need to win.
With time running down we could have added to our lead but as is so often the case we wanted to keep it exciting for the neutrals and so we did as we conceded a penalty corner and resulting goal on the stroke of fulltime. Three points in the bag and part 1 of Operation Big Banana Skin Weekend successfully accomplished. I refer you back to the line about the bird and the worm.
Party window begins.
Big party is made.
Party window ends.
Opening one eye gingerly I realised I was due on the pitch again in about an hour. The events of the previous evening had taken their toll though and a short message was fired off through cyberspace to the captain and a return swiftly fired back. TAXI!!!
So there we are, assembled on a drizzly Sunday lunchtime looking to put our second team of the weekend to the sword. This would be a slightly tougher proposition than the efforts of the previous day as Barnes looked like a completely different team from the 4th XI we had encountered earlier in the season. Must have been something to do with the guy on the sideline playing with his new phone....Nice RINGER!! You what?! Oh no I didn’t!! Ringers or no ringers the eventual outcome and end result were a carbon copy of the previous day’s exertions as we ran out 2-1 winners (what shaky last 5 minutes? I didn’t see it, I was too busy thinking about the tea ego it defo did not(o) exist(o)).
Fox or Budgie, Fox or Budgie, Fox or Budgie. Fox wins as it could eat a Budgie. This set the tone for the after game post-original mint sauce standing on a cliff having eaten a curry feeling as Foxy ran out worthy 2-goal MOM hero.
And so it was that a potential banana skin of a weekend was consigned to the dustbin of 6-point history even if part 2 had passed a few people by, albeit for different reasons. If contemplating Goodwin’s famous hoop is reason to be nutmegged on the line solace can be drawn from the fact that unlike at least 2 of the other animal kingdom based custodians of the goalmouth, your nuts- although megged will have been far warmer.
League:
Pushback time: 20/02/2010 09:03AM
Meeting point:
Meeting point:
no notes