The omens were good. Bernie had opted for a coronation chicken sandwich before arriving at the changing room to ensure optimum digestion. Micah was shooting up in the changing room, and Hudson looked like he was relishing his renewed role of token team nut-job in Coyley’s absence (sunning himself in the Gambia, apparently fake tan and moisturiser just aren’t enough to keep the Coyley look fresh) Game on.
The Alliance started the match with an unorthodox 3-6-1 formation, with Micah playing the lone striker role. This proved to be a tactical masterstroke from Bernie as the Alliance dominated the opening proceedings, despite the distraction of Fowler’s fielding what appeared to be a Brazilian chimpanzee on the left wing. Unfortunately the pressure failed to count, and a swift Fowler’s counter-attack resulted in their captain putting the ball in the back of the net. A hammer blow for the Alliance.
However, the brave Alliance fought on, and their persistence was rewarded with a penalty following a clash of bodies in the area as Steve got sandwiched. Up stepped part time Peter Crouch body double Si to slot the ball confidently past the keeper. Si ran away, full of glee, whispering something under his breath along the lines of “I wish Coyley was here so I could rip the piss out of him” I think that’s what was heard anyway. Alliance’s African sources state at the exact moment the goal was scored a shiver went down Coyley’s spine followed by him muttering something incomprehensible in Geordie. The reports will be confirmed upon Coyley’s return.
Alliance’s glee was short lived however. After a scramble in the box in which a Fowler’s player somehow struck the crossbar from half a yard out, the ensuing madness resulted in Steve chesting the ball out of the area before clearing it. Bafflingly, the referee awarded a spot kick despite the ball clearly striking his chest (Ed. John was behind Steve so how he could see from there I dont know). The penalty was subsequently put away past a despairing Sanj dive. 2-1 to Fowler’s. Again their big, moaning captain.
Half time brought changes from the gaffer, with James being brought on into the wing back role, with Bernie returning to the bench to quietly chomp the bag of coronation chicken filling he had brought with him (Ed. And to nurse a poorly lower right leg - probably all those devishly curled free kicks into the box).
The 2nd half started off much as the 1st had passed, with lots of Alliance pressure. After approximately 20 minutes, we were back. An excellent corner delivery from newly engaged, ex-heroine addict and Instants guitarist Pete Stupple was flicked on by Si at the near post to find an unmarked Hudson at the far post who headed the ball into the onion bag. 2-2.
The game was fairly even from here on with both teams settling into a nice rhythm. Suddenly Fowler’s played a ball over the top which James looked to have covered. Unfortunately the hapless full back opted for a suicidal backpass instead of playing the ball out into touch, The ball was intercepted and within 10 seconds it was in the back of the net. 3-2 to Fowler’s (again their big oaf of a captain). That’ll teach Bernie for trying to get the defence to play football.
Northern Alliance continued to push for a deserved goal, putting substantial pressure on the defence. This was all hindered by Micah having dislocated his shoulder but bravely playing on - he popped it back in though and got on with it. Not before Fowler's manager, with his league secretary hat on pointed out there really was no reason for Micah to play on. Unfortunately the pressure failed to come off, and Fowler’s were awarded a late, late penalty when Colin jumped in the area and temporarily forgetting he was playing football, successfully high-fived the ball. Penalty, goal, and game over for the Alliance. And four for their captain.
All in all a disappointing result, but a thoroughly encouraging performance. Happiest man on the pitch was Sanj who achieved his new record for lowest goals conceded in a match for the Alliance: 4. David James, watch out. The defeat was also softened by the realisation that a victory would have meant nothing anyway due to the format of the cup. But never mind. Plenty of positives to be had from this game and the Alliance can rest safe in the knowledge that James is not even in the country for their next two games. Put it out of play boys. Put it out of play.
Addition from the ed, Bernie Smith. Plenty of positives from the game as James rightly points out and the new 3-6-1 formation shone through with Guy revelling in the his role playing off the striker. So man of the match goes to Guy. Hudson, Simon and Steve (who managed to chip a tooth for the Alliance cause) adapted well to the new formation and the defence didnt deserve to let in four.
Wednesday, 25 February 2009
Tuesday, 17 February 2009
Sunday 15th Feb: Strollers (H) League
Following Guy's decision that his numeracy skills were better put to ordering the shirts in the kit bag post wash it was left to the less numerate me to record Saturday's results for posterity.
After arriving approximately on time to the most impressive of facilities, Si and myself were met by a fully focused captain Coyley already talking game with the ref. Coyley's focus continued in the changing room where James was forced to change from his fetching blue shorts and socks into team standard black kit borrowed from the bottom of the kit bag. Si and myself looked on sheepishly with our navy blue socks but thankfully passed kit inspection, just.
The team that took the field were: 1.Sanj 2.Micah 3.James 4.Ian 5.Gibsy 6.Liam 7.Jeff 8.Hudson 9.Coyley 10.Si 11.Guy. After walking past London's finest players ( http://kickabouts.intheteam.com/modules/page/Page.aspx?pc=12140&mid=2445&pmid=0) and putting up the nets in a suitably homoerotic manner whilst being photographed by Micah the game got under way. The Alliance, like the weather, started brightly with captain Coyley launching what at first looked like a speculative effort towards the Strollers' goal which finished as an exquisitely struck dipping effort off the outside of his right foot that had their 'keeper in all sorts of trouble and looked for all the world that is was going to end up in the top corner until it was finally parried away to safety.
The rest of the first half was fairly even with the oppo attacking well down the wings and the Alliance building well through the center via Hudson and Ian. Guy and James down the left and Jeff and Micah down the right did a good job of fending off the Stroller's attack. Slowly the Stroller's pressure built and if it were not for some last ditch defending from Gibbsy and Jeff they would have taken the lead. Finally the pressure proved too much as Stroller's went 1-0 up just before half time. A seemingly harsh in-direct free kick was awarded in the area after an apparent foot up. A 5 man wall and everybody else on the line wasn't enough to prevent the ball being lashed into the top of the net.
That rather took the stuffing out of the team and an unusually circumspect half time talk from Coyley was sign enough that the Alliance being behind was not fully deserved. The second half went with the weather for the Alliance it just got greyer and more minging. Stroller's finally managed to break through Gibsy and Liam's damn like central defensive partnership to curl the ball past me and into, I'd like to hope, the top left corner to make it 2-0 (weather: dark grey skies). It was 3-0 after Stroller's broke down right for a simple tap in (weather: drizzle). The fourth followed moments after this time from a break down the left, Micah unfortunately deflecting, a most likely goal bound effort anyway, to just inside the near post in a last ditch attempt to tackle their striker(weather: persistent rain).
Then a piece of tactical wizardry brightened up the Alliance's half with Bernie switching to 3-5-2 with him coming on for James and Steve for Jeff. The extra man in midfield made a definite impact with Guy down the left and Micah the right both making surging runs and producing some penetrating balls into the Stroller's box. Unfortunately none of the balls fell kindly to the rampaging Coyley and Si to get the goal that the team deserved.
This attacking endeavour finally bit back as the oppo broke quickly down their right for another tap in to make it 5 (weather: ming). I think for some the final whistle couldn't come quick enough after that and fortunately it did.
The 5-0 scoreline really doesn't act as fair reflection on the performance with the team playing well together in both defence and attack. Gibsy cleared up over and over and over again and Liam was a rock not allowing anyone to pass. Guy and Micah worked tirelessly up the flanks in attack and defence. Hudson, ably assisted by Ian, ran midfield with many a mazey run and had Coyley's early effort nestled in the top corner as it probably deserved to, the sun would have probably shone for the whole match and we may have won 5-0. Despite all this I'm meant to give man of the match to myself for letting in 5 for the second game in a row.
After arriving approximately on time to the most impressive of facilities, Si and myself were met by a fully focused captain Coyley already talking game with the ref. Coyley's focus continued in the changing room where James was forced to change from his fetching blue shorts and socks into team standard black kit borrowed from the bottom of the kit bag. Si and myself looked on sheepishly with our navy blue socks but thankfully passed kit inspection, just.
The team that took the field were: 1.Sanj 2.Micah 3.James 4.Ian 5.Gibsy 6.Liam 7.Jeff 8.Hudson 9.Coyley 10.Si 11.Guy. After walking past London's finest players ( http://kickabouts.intheteam.com/modules/page/Page.aspx?pc=12140&mid=2445&pmid=0) and putting up the nets in a suitably homoerotic manner whilst being photographed by Micah the game got under way. The Alliance, like the weather, started brightly with captain Coyley launching what at first looked like a speculative effort towards the Strollers' goal which finished as an exquisitely struck dipping effort off the outside of his right foot that had their 'keeper in all sorts of trouble and looked for all the world that is was going to end up in the top corner until it was finally parried away to safety.
The rest of the first half was fairly even with the oppo attacking well down the wings and the Alliance building well through the center via Hudson and Ian. Guy and James down the left and Jeff and Micah down the right did a good job of fending off the Stroller's attack. Slowly the Stroller's pressure built and if it were not for some last ditch defending from Gibbsy and Jeff they would have taken the lead. Finally the pressure proved too much as Stroller's went 1-0 up just before half time. A seemingly harsh in-direct free kick was awarded in the area after an apparent foot up. A 5 man wall and everybody else on the line wasn't enough to prevent the ball being lashed into the top of the net.
That rather took the stuffing out of the team and an unusually circumspect half time talk from Coyley was sign enough that the Alliance being behind was not fully deserved. The second half went with the weather for the Alliance it just got greyer and more minging. Stroller's finally managed to break through Gibsy and Liam's damn like central defensive partnership to curl the ball past me and into, I'd like to hope, the top left corner to make it 2-0 (weather: dark grey skies). It was 3-0 after Stroller's broke down right for a simple tap in (weather: drizzle). The fourth followed moments after this time from a break down the left, Micah unfortunately deflecting, a most likely goal bound effort anyway, to just inside the near post in a last ditch attempt to tackle their striker(weather: persistent rain).
Then a piece of tactical wizardry brightened up the Alliance's half with Bernie switching to 3-5-2 with him coming on for James and Steve for Jeff. The extra man in midfield made a definite impact with Guy down the left and Micah the right both making surging runs and producing some penetrating balls into the Stroller's box. Unfortunately none of the balls fell kindly to the rampaging Coyley and Si to get the goal that the team deserved.
This attacking endeavour finally bit back as the oppo broke quickly down their right for another tap in to make it 5 (weather: ming). I think for some the final whistle couldn't come quick enough after that and fortunately it did.
The 5-0 scoreline really doesn't act as fair reflection on the performance with the team playing well together in both defence and attack. Gibsy cleared up over and over and over again and Liam was a rock not allowing anyone to pass. Guy and Micah worked tirelessly up the flanks in attack and defence. Hudson, ably assisted by Ian, ran midfield with many a mazey run and had Coyley's early effort nestled in the top corner as it probably deserved to, the sun would have probably shone for the whole match and we may have won 5-0. Despite all this I'm meant to give man of the match to myself for letting in 5 for the second game in a row.
Monday, 9 February 2009
Sunday 8th Feb: The Jokers (A): Big Cup
After the previous weekend’s excellent battling draw on the unfamiliar grass of Regents Park it was back to the astroturf of Market Road. Snow was replaced by (OLD) rain and thankfully it was a couple of degrees warmer so there was no repeat of my southern jessie glove-wearing from the previous Sunday.
I arrived a mere quarter hour before kick-off having missed the Market Road turning and become fully entangled in the Holloway one-way system. It was not a good start and the empty feeling in my stomach where a well-digested pre-match meal should have been was not helping things. I began to regret the previous day’s drinking and sport watching and in particular several cans of Stella that had rounded off the night (WOMAN'S). I’ll spare you the details but having risen at 2pm, and with the help of a pint of Resolve and several visits to the lav it wasn’t pretty.
However with half a bottle of Powerade and some Jaffa cakes down my neck and the freshly laundered kit safely in a well-populated dressing room things were looking up. Things took a turn for the worse after a couple of scrotes who had been hanging around our goal nicked one of our balls. This is where a mugshot of the offenders would come in handy (I can still see the grin on one of the little shit’s face) but unfortunately this week’s account is to be a hard-on-the-eye text fest with no pretty pictures to spice things up. If anyone fancies drawing (MINGE) an artist’s impression though I’m sure Bernie could slip it in and we could have the wider Alliance family on the look out (although with the potential for violence against children and potential incarceration perhaps that’s not such a good idea).
Relieved they hadn’t nicked anything else and after a rousing team talk from Captain Coyle out on the pitch (who as ever was bang up for it and again sporting the lime green internet boots) (PONG) game was finally underway. The line-up was similar to last weekend’s team with Eddie in goal, Liam, Gibbsy, me and Micah across the back, Bernie, Ian, Dan and Guy in midfield and Coyley and Simon up front.
With no seven-foot monster to mark I was a bit lost initially and it soon became apparent that this week’s opposition were going to be a different proposition. Playing one up front and packing the midfield with nippy little diving continental types this lot were looking to pass their way through. One lad called Mauro wearing gloves (what kind of pansy wears gloves?…..unless its snowing of course) and a roll-neck AS Roma top under his shirt looked (SMELLS) ripe for an old fashioned ‘reducer’ early doors. After starting evenly the first half swung in Jokers favour after a stone-wall offside was missed by the ref (who just happened to be one of theirs) and one of their lads slotted home. Oh for a replay and a bit of Alan Hansen or Andy Gray analysis of that one. Things got worse when a shot from outside the box was unluckily deflected in by Gibbsy leaving Eddie with no chance.
So we turned round 2-0 down (LIKE) and half time was mostly spent discussing how we could stop the little shites overrunning us. Chairman Bernie was replaced by Pete in a like for like switch on the left wing. With our defence reluctant to push up in case the ref screwed us with another dodgy off-side decision the opposition still had space and more men in the middle of the park despite the heroic efforts of Dan and Ian. The opposition were still getting chances and despite everyone giving their all we still weren’t gaining the upper hand.
With half of the second half gone Rafa Bernie-tez rang the changes – Colin on for Micah and Steve on for Guy. With time running out he pushed yours truly up into midfield leaving us short at the back but with one more body in the middle of the park. Whether or not this was a tactical masterstroke (or whether it was responsible or not) we started getting up a head of steam with Simon and Coyley up front seeing some ball but with Jokers looking dangerous on the break. With corners coming regularly and the pressure building it looked like we might at least pull one back. But eventually time ran out and we were left ruing a poor refereeing decision and some bad luck. In truth the opposition were good on the ball and a decent passing side but with the effect of tactical changes to look back on Rafa has (FISH) food for thought before we play them again.
It was another whole-hearted performance from the team and 2-0 wasn’t really a fair reflection of our efforts. Eddie pulled off some great saves, the defence looked solid, the midfield did well to contain greater numbers and the lads up front ran their socks off. Man of the Match is a tough one to call with everyone giving 100% but for some tough tackling, hard (BATTER) running and facing up to extra numbers in midfield I can’t split Dan and Ian. [Bernie if you want to choose a winner I guess you’ve got editor’s prerogative - Ed. you're right Tim I do, Liam].
I arrived a mere quarter hour before kick-off having missed the Market Road turning and become fully entangled in the Holloway one-way system. It was not a good start and the empty feeling in my stomach where a well-digested pre-match meal should have been was not helping things. I began to regret the previous day’s drinking and sport watching and in particular several cans of Stella that had rounded off the night (WOMAN'S). I’ll spare you the details but having risen at 2pm, and with the help of a pint of Resolve and several visits to the lav it wasn’t pretty.
However with half a bottle of Powerade and some Jaffa cakes down my neck and the freshly laundered kit safely in a well-populated dressing room things were looking up. Things took a turn for the worse after a couple of scrotes who had been hanging around our goal nicked one of our balls. This is where a mugshot of the offenders would come in handy (I can still see the grin on one of the little shit’s face) but unfortunately this week’s account is to be a hard-on-the-eye text fest with no pretty pictures to spice things up. If anyone fancies drawing (MINGE) an artist’s impression though I’m sure Bernie could slip it in and we could have the wider Alliance family on the look out (although with the potential for violence against children and potential incarceration perhaps that’s not such a good idea).
Relieved they hadn’t nicked anything else and after a rousing team talk from Captain Coyle out on the pitch (who as ever was bang up for it and again sporting the lime green internet boots) (PONG) game was finally underway. The line-up was similar to last weekend’s team with Eddie in goal, Liam, Gibbsy, me and Micah across the back, Bernie, Ian, Dan and Guy in midfield and Coyley and Simon up front.
With no seven-foot monster to mark I was a bit lost initially and it soon became apparent that this week’s opposition were going to be a different proposition. Playing one up front and packing the midfield with nippy little diving continental types this lot were looking to pass their way through. One lad called Mauro wearing gloves (what kind of pansy wears gloves?…..unless its snowing of course) and a roll-neck AS Roma top under his shirt looked (SMELLS) ripe for an old fashioned ‘reducer’ early doors. After starting evenly the first half swung in Jokers favour after a stone-wall offside was missed by the ref (who just happened to be one of theirs) and one of their lads slotted home. Oh for a replay and a bit of Alan Hansen or Andy Gray analysis of that one. Things got worse when a shot from outside the box was unluckily deflected in by Gibbsy leaving Eddie with no chance.
So we turned round 2-0 down (LIKE) and half time was mostly spent discussing how we could stop the little shites overrunning us. Chairman Bernie was replaced by Pete in a like for like switch on the left wing. With our defence reluctant to push up in case the ref screwed us with another dodgy off-side decision the opposition still had space and more men in the middle of the park despite the heroic efforts of Dan and Ian. The opposition were still getting chances and despite everyone giving their all we still weren’t gaining the upper hand.
With half of the second half gone Rafa Bernie-tez rang the changes – Colin on for Micah and Steve on for Guy. With time running out he pushed yours truly up into midfield leaving us short at the back but with one more body in the middle of the park. Whether or not this was a tactical masterstroke (or whether it was responsible or not) we started getting up a head of steam with Simon and Coyley up front seeing some ball but with Jokers looking dangerous on the break. With corners coming regularly and the pressure building it looked like we might at least pull one back. But eventually time ran out and we were left ruing a poor refereeing decision and some bad luck. In truth the opposition were good on the ball and a decent passing side but with the effect of tactical changes to look back on Rafa has (FISH) food for thought before we play them again.
It was another whole-hearted performance from the team and 2-0 wasn’t really a fair reflection of our efforts. Eddie pulled off some great saves, the defence looked solid, the midfield did well to contain greater numbers and the lads up front ran their socks off. Man of the Match is a tough one to call with everyone giving 100% but for some tough tackling, hard (BATTER) running and facing up to extra numbers in midfield I can’t split Dan and Ian. [Bernie if you want to choose a winner I guess you’ve got editor’s prerogative - Ed. you're right Tim I do, Liam].
Wednesday, 4 February 2009
Sunday 01 February 2009: Cambazola (h) cup
The morning after the game before and London had been completely shut down by a stealthy avalanche of brilliant bus-blocking, tube-totalling, work-wangling snow, the likes of which hasn’t been seen for many a year. The Great Blizzard of 2009 they were gleefully talking it up as on LBC radio (surely the worst acronym in broadcasting, standing as it does for London’s Biggest Conversation) as they spoke to a half wit on the phone-in who was hoping that Nick Ferrari (perhaps employed to even things out on the name-stakes) would be able to advise him on delivering his imminently arriving child. “Anything else?” Nick asked the half wit after offering clearly useless advice, “What should I call him?” he rang off with, clearly embracing his own idiocy. ‘Snowy’ was offered up. Jesus Christ (that wasn’t, needless to say).
And Fortress Allianza it certainly was, well, metaphorically speaking. Impenetrable to some of our own men as well it seemed as, with only five minutes remaining before KO, our forces were looking as thin on the ground as the Belgian military presence, well, outside of Belgium.
Finally the game was afoot, kicking off late at 2.30, Bernie making a rushed appearance, looking like he might well have slept in the park. Micah started between the sticks, bravely standing in for the still AWOL Eddie. Woody, Liam, Tim and Gibbsy across the back, Dan and Simon in the middle with Guy and Bernie patrolling the flanks. Simon and Coyley led the line. Conditions were blustery and the game settled into a fierce stand off, no side yielding an inch, no ground gained. Long balls were taken out by the wind and there were few chances to speak of. It was tight and competitive. Cambazola didn’t look like a team who had taken us to task 5-0 in our last game, and we didn’t look like a team who would be beaten by 5. Battling performances were put in by Dan and Ian in the middle supporting solid work by the back four, Ian resolutely heading everything that came his way. That sense of shakiness which has often characterised the Alliance defence this season had been swept away by the wind. But after 20 minutes or so a loose ball on the edge of the box fell to one of their lads and was curled up over Micah into the top right. Pete, my optimism deficient ‘bench’-warming comrade, wearily commented that “This is a bit like what happened last time” as it started to snow. 0-1.
Anyway, I digress. Clearly getting to work was not an option. Even though, staying as I was in central London, a half hour walk or a few stops on the resilient Victoria line meant it was certainly was an option. But work didn’t know that, for I was stranded in West Dulwich as far as they were aware. Instead, I headed back over to the scene of the game the day before through a beautifully snowy Regent’s Park, en route to Primrose Hill for a bout of kamikaze sledging on a metal tray. Walking past some impressive snowmen I took the below picture on my phone for those of you who have yet to witness the all new Fortress Allianza.
And Fortress Allianza it certainly was, well, metaphorically speaking. Impenetrable to some of our own men as well it seemed as, with only five minutes remaining before KO, our forces were looking as thin on the ground as the Belgian military presence, well, outside of Belgium.
Corporal Jonesy had come through with aerial reconnaissance pictures of a grey, circular, concrete structure earlier in the week and our Napoleon-sized general had slated a 1.15 rendez-vous. But neither our leader nor goalkeeper were anywhere to be seen. Whilst we waited, time was passed admiring our new surroundings; never have I seen grown men so in awe of a small black hairdryer. A glistening white board outside in reception slated our pitch number and the Home and Away changing rooms (insert bad Australian-themed joke here at leisure). If a nuclear war was to break out this place wouldn’t be a bad bet for seeking refuge, certainly a step up from our last home encounter where it seemed a nuclear war might have been a recent reality.
Not only were we left to admire our plush new surroundings, but also Captain Coyley’s brand spanking new boots. I struggle for the words to describe them, so I’ll let the picture do the talking, a thousand words as the saying goes, quite possibly most of them four letters long. Here they are pictured next to Micah’s red devils, the pair of them revolutionising the world of 3-D technology in front of our very eyes:
Finally the game was afoot, kicking off late at 2.30, Bernie making a rushed appearance, looking like he might well have slept in the park. Micah started between the sticks, bravely standing in for the still AWOL Eddie. Woody, Liam, Tim and Gibbsy across the back, Dan and Simon in the middle with Guy and Bernie patrolling the flanks. Simon and Coyley led the line. Conditions were blustery and the game settled into a fierce stand off, no side yielding an inch, no ground gained. Long balls were taken out by the wind and there were few chances to speak of. It was tight and competitive. Cambazola didn’t look like a team who had taken us to task 5-0 in our last game, and we didn’t look like a team who would be beaten by 5. Battling performances were put in by Dan and Ian in the middle supporting solid work by the back four, Ian resolutely heading everything that came his way. That sense of shakiness which has often characterised the Alliance defence this season had been swept away by the wind. But after 20 minutes or so a loose ball on the edge of the box fell to one of their lads and was curled up over Micah into the top right. Pete, my optimism deficient ‘bench’-warming comrade, wearily commented that “This is a bit like what happened last time” as it started to snow. 0-1.
Simon was mercilessly hacked down by one of their bruisers, of which there were a few, the culprit lucky to escape without a booking. Cambazola seem to be a bit of niggly side who took advantage of some beefy players to go in strong, their number 7, Dolph Lundgren, the worst of the lot. Eddie finally appeared, seemingly unruffled by having been bamboozled by the intricacies of Regent’s Park inner maze for the best part of an hour, and was thrust into the action as Simon was subbed off - the ensuing tactical change transforming our goal keeper into centre forward in the blink of an eye and the shake of a shirt. Half time came and the Northern Alliance was still firmly in the game.
Pete came on for a Bernie who had clearly demonstrated in the first half that sleeping in the wilderness does not a football genius make. Playing with the wind at our backs and the conditions easing a bit the game settled down and the ball was moved around a bit more freely. Woody and Guy put in some good combinations down the right, Tim, Liam and Gibbsy mercilessly defending their line.
What’s that you say John? Penalty? Really, are you sure? Pete had charged down the left wing and been chopped down (Or been dispossessed by a great tackle, outside of the box.) Nevertheless, following a careering roll, Pete was firmly inside the edge of box and, never one to let the Alliance down, our twelfth man, sorry, the referee, signalled to the spot. “If he misses this he’s off” conferred the coaches on the touchline, not necessarily betraying a particularly ruthless streak, just the fact that Coyley was having a bit of a stinker generally.
Under hotly contested circumstances, and no doubt a fair bit of gamesmanship by the opposition, the ball was finally placed. Whether Coyley was put off by this or by the flash of some lime green hypertext transfer protocol shimmering across his new internet boots we will never know, but the goalkeeper guessed the right way and saved to his right post. The ball was kicked up field and they nearly raced away and scored. As I readied myself for entering the fray in place of Coyley he received the ball at the edge of the box, took a touch and hammered the ball over the keeper into the top left in majestic fashion. Instant redemption as Simon, hand caressing the guillotine a moment earlier, rushed onto the pitch to kiss the shiny boots, much to the consternation of the crestfallen Cambazolans. 1-1.
The lead was short lived as what looked like an excellent finger tipped save by Eddie to a finger-stinging effort cruelly dipped under the bar on second asking and rolled limply into the net. 1-2. I came on for Guy as we pressed for an equalizer and Micah shifted to the right wing. They came close a couple of times, a near miss on the right hand post, some squandered chances, a few smart saves and some quick thinking by our keeper foiling them at every turn (Not to mention a more justified shout for a spot kick than our own, but we’ll breeze past that quickly). We continued to battle and our perseverance brought dividends as leading goal scorer and never-say-die battler Dan, smashed in a beauty from the edge of the box - the third top corner goal of the encounter, with about 10 minutes to go. 2-2. The game continued in the spirit it had been played, tough tackling and combative, but no further clear chances came and the whistle shrilled signalling that a much deserved draw was ours. It was the sort of draw that felt like a victory, brilliant performances across the board and writing the wrongs of the previous match.
As we retreated back to the much needed warmth of the changing rooms, John Hall piped up “The grass game suits you boys doesn’t it?” Thanks John, yes it does.
Man of the Match: Very tough. Ian and Dan both had great games in central midfield. If it could be a joint award then the back four would share the spoils for a no-nonsense, tough tackling and battling performance. To separate the centre back wall of Tim and Liam would be unfair, both repelling many an assault. So, for an audacious 35 yard lob in blustery conditions, non-stop running and some crucial tackles the award this week goes to Gibbsy.
Tuesday, 13 January 2009
The week began with a heavy heart as I trudged my way into work on Monday morning, dragging my shoes like a seven year old on the first day back at school…thinking ‘where did the festive holidays go?’. Thoroughly despondent I arrived in the office to see Simon ‘Crouchy’ ‘Wrecking ball’ ‘Quino’ Evans who directed me to the xmas drinks blog and I turned my frown upside down. There was a reason to welcome in the New Year and feel good about it after all, the resumption of Northern Alliance fixtures after the winter break.
Suitably inspired I spent the rest of the week dreaming about a 2009 of emphatic wins as the sour taste of defeat fades into a distant memory…….
I already had my media quotes ready;
“well John, looking back all those losses were important for my development as a player”
“you have to learn how to lose gracefully before you can win with honour”
“you learn a lot about your team mates in times of difficulties and I’m just proud to be a part of this team that has dragged itself out of difficulties”
“She told me she was 17 – besides I never touched her”
Suitably inspired I dragged my sorry arse to the gym that evening – and due to feeling additional pressure from Simon ‘the mighty Quinn’ Evans’ declarations that he had stopped drinking for January.
Two more visits to the gym and many hours talking a good game with Crouchy and it was Friday already…time for a visit to the pub….
Iain: “Beer Simon?”
Simon: “No, I’m not drinking”
Iain: “Ok, Pint of Becks please – Simon interrupts – Sorry, make that two pints of Becks please barman”
Simon: “I’m off to a party tonight in oxford, so I guess I can have a couple”
Iain: “are you going to play tomorrow?”
Simon: “Yeah of course, I’m not having a big night and will be on the first bus home in plenty of time for the match”
Then Saturday was upon us
The day of the game soon arrived and despite Bernie changing location on us, we all made it on time – ish! The only sign of the Crouchy was a text I received at 10.45
“yeah, looking like a second half performance from me. F**king g** roads with their b**tard tw**ing traffic bloody jams”
Top swearing!
Being the observant type I also noticed a few faces from the past (good to see you back Liam and Guy) and a newbie reaching for the keepers shirt. (nice to meet you Sanj!)
Bernie looked nervous – if we had a keeper what would become of him?
So after standing around for a bit fizzing balls at the new keeper we moved in for the alliance team talk/huddle/general confusion that precedes our games. Bernie came prepared with an inspirational speech about caressing balls, expressing ourselves & cup games…..but, to be honest I switched off when he started a sentence with “even when we are losing……” so I can’t say what else he had learnt over Christmas.
Then Captain ‘what ban?’ Coyley stepped up with some of his own special form of inspiration. From what Dai translated for me it was along the lines of ‘we only get so many opportunities to play football in our lives and each game should be played like it is our last’
Wise words.
So game on – we lined up something like this
(GK) Sanj
Liamm Gibbsy Dai Bernie (Hi!)
Iain Dan ‘not so evil anymore’ Hudson Pete
Micah Coyley
Ten minutes in an all is looking good, except for the Alliance mascot & #1 fan Henry who looked like he was feeling the -10c.
Someone passed the ball, some other people headed the ball and there were some foul throws.
Then a pitch side incident – Henry in danger of getting hypothermia – meant Dan had to depart the field. 5mins of the midfield looking confused and struggling to understand why we were being overrun and the change is made permanent with Jonesy coming on for Dan.
Yours truly moved into the middle and Jonesy took up my position on the right.
There were a few more passes, some actually went to feet! I definitely remember a tackle or two and the ref had given up awarding foul throws as he was too busy trying to stay alive as the wind chill picked up and made it – 20c.
Gibbsy, Dai, Liam and Bernie were doing a sound job at the back and I even recall seeing an Alliance keeper come for high ball at a cross and take it comfortably (take note Huerelo Gomez) – Inspiring stuff.
Some where in the background there was a scream of ‘Go on Alliance’ and looking up I saw a dangerously thin tall lad running down the street – which could mean only one thing Crouchy had arrived.
Then they played a through ball that bypassed our defence just inside the half, all looked lost until Dai threw himself to the ground to clear the ball. That’s what you call playing like it’s your last game. Dai wasn’t moving much on the ground and when he did get up he was clutching his shoulder. It was clear that Dai wouldn’t be able to continue, Crouchy started to warm up.
Now I could be wrong – but Simon assures me it was 0-0 when he came on in central defence to replace Dai. A brief on field chat with Simon and he informs me that his tardiness was due to a Free Palestine demonstration. So there you go, proof that cause and effect (or the butterfly affect if you prefer) rules all aspects of life…..’Israel occupy land, shoot and bomb a load of people, they shoot and bomb back, and sure as night follows day the Northern Alliance suffer’
Some bloke on their side did something and it was 1-0 to them. More of the same and it was 2-0.
Half time came and Bernie replaced himself with our remaining sub Guy. Coyley turns to Guy and asks ‘are you left footed?’ Guy ‘no’..Coyley: ‘oh!….well, you’re playing left back anyway’
Second half wasn’t the best in terms of Alliance footy. I clearly remember trying to clear a ball in our box and not noticing their player behind me. Suffice to say he beat me to the ball – 3-0.
Now it wasn’t all that bad – we did have the odd spell of passing and I recall a couple of occasions when we put more than two passes together in sequence.
Then some more stuff happened and it was 5-0.
To be fair they had a few good players in key areas, especially their centre forward and midfield – so it’s hard to complain/blame ourselves too much. Perhaps we just got beat by a better side?
Saying that it did grate a little when they celebrated their fifth with the words “he takes sixteen seasons to score a goal for us, and then gets a second in the same game”
Positives for the Alliance – we all worked our arses off, and despite the score no-one stopped trying. Sanj deserves praise for some cracking saves and general all round performance and it doesn’t seem fair that after his first game in the goal for 16 years (5 a side doesn’t count) and some excellent saves he conceded 5. Oh well funny old game!
Gibbsy threw himself into everything and won some crucial balls at the back.
And Micah and Coyley gave options up front all game and ran hard.
MOM: Hudson – endless commitment without the malice (again), special mention to Paul for the same, Gibbsy and Sanj.
Post match news:
1) Dr Bernie reported on Dai’s injury;
A sore AC joint - had three hours in A&E after he left the game, he's alright but cant move his arm much - not sure he's going to be good for much over the next few weeks - rules his love making arm out any road! There is no evidence that Dr Bernie was referring to himself receiving (or for this week, not) the ‘love making arm’ despite some scandalous accusations in the media.
2) Henry survived his brush with hypothermia and looks forward to his next game on the 24th January
3) Simon is in Africa for work – but is popping into Gaza on the way back to have a word.
Iain.
Suitably inspired I spent the rest of the week dreaming about a 2009 of emphatic wins as the sour taste of defeat fades into a distant memory…….
I already had my media quotes ready;
“well John, looking back all those losses were important for my development as a player”
“you have to learn how to lose gracefully before you can win with honour”
“you learn a lot about your team mates in times of difficulties and I’m just proud to be a part of this team that has dragged itself out of difficulties”
“She told me she was 17 – besides I never touched her”
Suitably inspired I dragged my sorry arse to the gym that evening – and due to feeling additional pressure from Simon ‘the mighty Quinn’ Evans’ declarations that he had stopped drinking for January.
Two more visits to the gym and many hours talking a good game with Crouchy and it was Friday already…time for a visit to the pub….
Iain: “Beer Simon?”
Simon: “No, I’m not drinking”
Iain: “Ok, Pint of Becks please – Simon interrupts – Sorry, make that two pints of Becks please barman”
Simon: “I’m off to a party tonight in oxford, so I guess I can have a couple”
Iain: “are you going to play tomorrow?”
Simon: “Yeah of course, I’m not having a big night and will be on the first bus home in plenty of time for the match”
Then Saturday was upon us
The day of the game soon arrived and despite Bernie changing location on us, we all made it on time – ish! The only sign of the Crouchy was a text I received at 10.45
“yeah, looking like a second half performance from me. F**king g** roads with their b**tard tw**ing traffic bloody jams”
Top swearing!
Being the observant type I also noticed a few faces from the past (good to see you back Liam and Guy) and a newbie reaching for the keepers shirt. (nice to meet you Sanj!)
Bernie looked nervous – if we had a keeper what would become of him?
So after standing around for a bit fizzing balls at the new keeper we moved in for the alliance team talk/huddle/general confusion that precedes our games. Bernie came prepared with an inspirational speech about caressing balls, expressing ourselves & cup games…..but, to be honest I switched off when he started a sentence with “even when we are losing……” so I can’t say what else he had learnt over Christmas.
Then Captain ‘what ban?’ Coyley stepped up with some of his own special form of inspiration. From what Dai translated for me it was along the lines of ‘we only get so many opportunities to play football in our lives and each game should be played like it is our last’
Wise words.
So game on – we lined up something like this
(GK) Sanj
Liamm Gibbsy Dai Bernie (Hi!)
Iain Dan ‘not so evil anymore’ Hudson Pete
Micah Coyley
Ten minutes in an all is looking good, except for the Alliance mascot & #1 fan Henry who looked like he was feeling the -10c.
Someone passed the ball, some other people headed the ball and there were some foul throws.
Then a pitch side incident – Henry in danger of getting hypothermia – meant Dan had to depart the field. 5mins of the midfield looking confused and struggling to understand why we were being overrun and the change is made permanent with Jonesy coming on for Dan.
Yours truly moved into the middle and Jonesy took up my position on the right.
There were a few more passes, some actually went to feet! I definitely remember a tackle or two and the ref had given up awarding foul throws as he was too busy trying to stay alive as the wind chill picked up and made it – 20c.
Gibbsy, Dai, Liam and Bernie were doing a sound job at the back and I even recall seeing an Alliance keeper come for high ball at a cross and take it comfortably (take note Huerelo Gomez) – Inspiring stuff.
Some where in the background there was a scream of ‘Go on Alliance’ and looking up I saw a dangerously thin tall lad running down the street – which could mean only one thing Crouchy had arrived.
Then they played a through ball that bypassed our defence just inside the half, all looked lost until Dai threw himself to the ground to clear the ball. That’s what you call playing like it’s your last game. Dai wasn’t moving much on the ground and when he did get up he was clutching his shoulder. It was clear that Dai wouldn’t be able to continue, Crouchy started to warm up.
Now I could be wrong – but Simon assures me it was 0-0 when he came on in central defence to replace Dai. A brief on field chat with Simon and he informs me that his tardiness was due to a Free Palestine demonstration. So there you go, proof that cause and effect (or the butterfly affect if you prefer) rules all aspects of life…..’Israel occupy land, shoot and bomb a load of people, they shoot and bomb back, and sure as night follows day the Northern Alliance suffer’
Some bloke on their side did something and it was 1-0 to them. More of the same and it was 2-0.
Half time came and Bernie replaced himself with our remaining sub Guy. Coyley turns to Guy and asks ‘are you left footed?’ Guy ‘no’..Coyley: ‘oh!….well, you’re playing left back anyway’
Second half wasn’t the best in terms of Alliance footy. I clearly remember trying to clear a ball in our box and not noticing their player behind me. Suffice to say he beat me to the ball – 3-0.
Now it wasn’t all that bad – we did have the odd spell of passing and I recall a couple of occasions when we put more than two passes together in sequence.
Then some more stuff happened and it was 5-0.
To be fair they had a few good players in key areas, especially their centre forward and midfield – so it’s hard to complain/blame ourselves too much. Perhaps we just got beat by a better side?
Saying that it did grate a little when they celebrated their fifth with the words “he takes sixteen seasons to score a goal for us, and then gets a second in the same game”
Positives for the Alliance – we all worked our arses off, and despite the score no-one stopped trying. Sanj deserves praise for some cracking saves and general all round performance and it doesn’t seem fair that after his first game in the goal for 16 years (5 a side doesn’t count) and some excellent saves he conceded 5. Oh well funny old game!
Gibbsy threw himself into everything and won some crucial balls at the back.
And Micah and Coyley gave options up front all game and ran hard.
MOM: Hudson – endless commitment without the malice (again), special mention to Paul for the same, Gibbsy and Sanj.
Post match news:
1) Dr Bernie reported on Dai’s injury;
A sore AC joint - had three hours in A&E after he left the game, he's alright but cant move his arm much - not sure he's going to be good for much over the next few weeks - rules his love making arm out any road! There is no evidence that Dr Bernie was referring to himself receiving (or for this week, not) the ‘love making arm’ despite some scandalous accusations in the media.
2) Henry survived his brush with hypothermia and looks forward to his next game on the 24th January
3) Simon is in Africa for work – but is popping into Gaza on the way back to have a word.
Iain.
Tuesday, 23 December 2008
The Northern Alley-ance Christmas Do 2008
By St Dai himself, sure to be cumming down your chimney this Christmas...
What sort of Christmas would it be without an Alliance Christmas shindig? Well, I’ll leave those of you who couldn’t make this particular festive knees-up to ponder that and ask yourselves if you’re the poorer for it. If, having thought about it, the answer still escapes you, let me point you in the right direction: I think it’s akin to Butch without Cassidy, Cannon without Ball, Crankie without the other smaller Crankie – you know, the one that’s actually a bird. In short, it’s a gaping chasm on your social calendar.
So, to the 4th or 5th annual Alliance Christmas Do. In a departure from tradition that had blood at boiling point amongst the self-styled ‘old-guard’, the Thames Tandoori at Waterloo was shunned in preference of a trip up North (though not to the grim-oop-north North where Celtic band tattoos have recently been ditched in preference for a Nick Ketchell varicose vein motif). It was a brave move by Social Secretary Crouch that took an almost exclusively South-residing team to Finsbury Park Bowling Alley, but the promise of a late night extremist meeting in the nearby mosque quickly put paid to any sense of uprising. Coyley’d brought a head scarf and everything.
First to the lanes were Bernie, Steve, Formerly-disgraced Captain Coyle, Iain, Crouchie and Dai. A quick tussle with the in-lane computer and a scout around for suitable balls – Bernie was particularly thorough in this – and we were away. Iain, Simon and Steve started solidly enough, Bernie got an early strike (no I didn’t I was useless, ed.), Coyley was reining in his competitive instincts whilst I booted my first ball into touch and over the fence. Well out Dai.
After some early jostling, the table started to sort itself out. Iain and Simon were looking good for Europe, Steve was safe in mid-table, whilst Bernie and Coyley had started negotiations to bring in Ron Atkinson and Joe Kinnear respectively as the fans started to turn against them. Dai, meantime, was looking good for top-spot as he bored everyone to death with a series of solid if unspectacular spares. I’ll be honest and say that I was hoping for greater fuss and comment about my technique, but that’s an all too familiar story.
Little had changed by the end of Game 1. Crouchie had attempted some outrageous spin bowling – to cries of ‘chucker’ – and Iain had attempted a spirited dash for top-spot only to fall short. Bernie had managed to bowl 4 consecutive balls without knocking over a single pin and Paul had resorted to scaring the shit out of the pins in an attempt to climb his way back up the table. If memory serves, the two-footed challenge on the king-pin was particularly out of order. Still, at least he didn’t actually ‘strike’ anything. (Thanks – ed.)
High drama before Game 2 as some people went to the bar. Shortly afterwards Bernie unveiled the evening’s special guests. Enter our midfield general Dan Monahan, Chairman ‘Listen, I was never actually charged with anything’ Malice and Chris ‘I’m bang up for every game this season’ Ketchell. Two of the three 3 newcomers stepped in to replace Game 1’s ‘Turkeys’ (Crouchie – are you having that?) and we were off again.
After only a few frames it was apparent that two key battles were emerging: Iain and Simon were going head-to-head in the Bureau Vertias Plate Competition whilst Dan and Dai were trading strikes and spares at will at the top of the table. At the bottom end of the table, Paul was nearing suspension for 5 yellow cards and Ketch was clearly distracted by the fact that he hadn’t got his buttons quite right after ripping his shirt open in an earlier celebration. None of this was helping Dan and Dai who had gone into big game mode: cold towels, psychotic stares and headphones on in-between frames.
We could scarcely have asked for more drama in the final analysis. It’s what makes Big Game Bowling so enthralling. As Dai and Dan traded punches (Paul traded punches with a nearby 7-year old who had ‘looked at him funny, like’) the tension mounted and interest in the game grew. Two gladiators in their coliseum watched by Simon, and intermittently by Iain and Steve in-between fag breaks. But what drama was to come?
With two balls left, Dan needed to knock all 10 down to win…
“He’d have taken that if you’d asked him before kick-off…” mumbled Alan Parry.
“Cometh the hour, cometh the man…” said Martin Tyler.
“10 pins from glory. And boy, 10 lords will leap if he makes this” eulogised Peter Drury.
“To me. To you” croaked Barry Chuckle.
And, despite having rolled his sleeves up, he missed.
No matter, the night wasn’t done yet. From there on to Carnaby Street for some more ale and then to stand outside Strawberry Moon’s for 20 minutes. The reasons for this are still unclear, but the decision to give-up and move on prompted unanimous cries of “Well, it’s f*cking a car crash of a place anyway”. Or maybe that was just me.
And then there were 5. Crouchie, Bernie, Dan, Paul and Dai – hang on, let me count that again. Five, definitely – headed for Brixton with the promise of more revelry and the outside possibility of a knifing.
It was half hour or so before we really found our feet in Brixton and then – if it’s possible – it was because we took up arms. Still smarting from narrow defeat in the bowling and with machismo coarsing through every sinew, Dan suggested an arm-wrestle. Early money went on Dan and Paul, Simon and Dai were sensibly over-looked, whilst at the off more money had been put on Bernie to be Christmas No. 1 than be arm-wrestling champion. (As it turned out, ‘Reet fit arse’ by Bernie & Mickey featuring Gary Glitter failed to get general release, though you it should still be available at www.glittermyarse.com).
In an early round, Simon beat Paul – or maybe Paul beat Simon – whilst Bernie showed his hand by putting Dai to the sword (he was later reinstated after using a sword was found to be within the rules Coyley was playing by). Bernie went on to put up good showings against the others, earning himself the nickname ‘The Arm’. By now the penny had dropped and no-one could quite believe how it was that we hadn’t imagined Bernie to have at least one giant forearm.
And so to the final. Coyle vs. Monahan. It went on for 3.5 hours and – isn’t it always the way? – as I went to get beers and hot-dogs when it finished, I can’t remember who won. I think it was Dan. Yes, it was Dan. There were definitely 2 dead on-lookers when I returned which I took to mean that Coyley had probably been defeated. Two more dead on the way to the next pub too. Carnage on the streets of London.
The night was drawing to a close but there was still time for a few rounds of shots, some circular, arm-in-arm dancing to Sheriff Fatman by Carter USM, and for Dai and Coyley to plot an unlikely coup to overthrow Bernie and sell the club on eBay. There was also time for Bernie to claim that he would “definitely take some dirt home tonight”. And still time for him to fail. Not there Bernie.
So, to sum up? Christmas comes but once a year and with nights like this, more’s the pity. Man of match awards to everyone who turned up and I’ll leave you with the words of Noddy Holder: “It is better to have bowled and lost than never to have bowled at all.”
Happy Christmas.
Forza Alliance.
Dai.
PS from the ed.
As is always the case, the evening was spoilt slightly at the end – 5 crazy, testosterone fuelled dogs made for home after a victorious KFC dinner. Only for Dai to throw his coke, in an act which can only be described as totally g*y, over the once spotlessly clean restaurant floor. I wouldnt have minded if it had been an act of valiance against the inane uniformity of everything the KFC brand stands for. But we all know that will have been cleaned up by an illegal immigrant on less than minimum wage later that evening. He knew he’d done wrong as soon as he’d done it. Suddenly the early evening bowling victory didn’t seem such a victory after all.
Merry Christmas.
BS
What sort of Christmas would it be without an Alliance Christmas shindig? Well, I’ll leave those of you who couldn’t make this particular festive knees-up to ponder that and ask yourselves if you’re the poorer for it. If, having thought about it, the answer still escapes you, let me point you in the right direction: I think it’s akin to Butch without Cassidy, Cannon without Ball, Crankie without the other smaller Crankie – you know, the one that’s actually a bird. In short, it’s a gaping chasm on your social calendar.
So, to the 4th or 5th annual Alliance Christmas Do. In a departure from tradition that had blood at boiling point amongst the self-styled ‘old-guard’, the Thames Tandoori at Waterloo was shunned in preference of a trip up North (though not to the grim-oop-north North where Celtic band tattoos have recently been ditched in preference for a Nick Ketchell varicose vein motif). It was a brave move by Social Secretary Crouch that took an almost exclusively South-residing team to Finsbury Park Bowling Alley, but the promise of a late night extremist meeting in the nearby mosque quickly put paid to any sense of uprising. Coyley’d brought a head scarf and everything.
First to the lanes were Bernie, Steve, Formerly-disgraced Captain Coyle, Iain, Crouchie and Dai. A quick tussle with the in-lane computer and a scout around for suitable balls – Bernie was particularly thorough in this – and we were away. Iain, Simon and Steve started solidly enough, Bernie got an early strike (no I didn’t I was useless, ed.), Coyley was reining in his competitive instincts whilst I booted my first ball into touch and over the fence. Well out Dai.
After some early jostling, the table started to sort itself out. Iain and Simon were looking good for Europe, Steve was safe in mid-table, whilst Bernie and Coyley had started negotiations to bring in Ron Atkinson and Joe Kinnear respectively as the fans started to turn against them. Dai, meantime, was looking good for top-spot as he bored everyone to death with a series of solid if unspectacular spares. I’ll be honest and say that I was hoping for greater fuss and comment about my technique, but that’s an all too familiar story.
Little had changed by the end of Game 1. Crouchie had attempted some outrageous spin bowling – to cries of ‘chucker’ – and Iain had attempted a spirited dash for top-spot only to fall short. Bernie had managed to bowl 4 consecutive balls without knocking over a single pin and Paul had resorted to scaring the shit out of the pins in an attempt to climb his way back up the table. If memory serves, the two-footed challenge on the king-pin was particularly out of order. Still, at least he didn’t actually ‘strike’ anything. (Thanks – ed.)
High drama before Game 2 as some people went to the bar. Shortly afterwards Bernie unveiled the evening’s special guests. Enter our midfield general Dan Monahan, Chairman ‘Listen, I was never actually charged with anything’ Malice and Chris ‘I’m bang up for every game this season’ Ketchell. Two of the three 3 newcomers stepped in to replace Game 1’s ‘Turkeys’ (Crouchie – are you having that?) and we were off again.
After only a few frames it was apparent that two key battles were emerging: Iain and Simon were going head-to-head in the Bureau Vertias Plate Competition whilst Dan and Dai were trading strikes and spares at will at the top of the table. At the bottom end of the table, Paul was nearing suspension for 5 yellow cards and Ketch was clearly distracted by the fact that he hadn’t got his buttons quite right after ripping his shirt open in an earlier celebration. None of this was helping Dan and Dai who had gone into big game mode: cold towels, psychotic stares and headphones on in-between frames.
We could scarcely have asked for more drama in the final analysis. It’s what makes Big Game Bowling so enthralling. As Dai and Dan traded punches (Paul traded punches with a nearby 7-year old who had ‘looked at him funny, like’) the tension mounted and interest in the game grew. Two gladiators in their coliseum watched by Simon, and intermittently by Iain and Steve in-between fag breaks. But what drama was to come?
With two balls left, Dan needed to knock all 10 down to win…
“He’d have taken that if you’d asked him before kick-off…” mumbled Alan Parry.
“Cometh the hour, cometh the man…” said Martin Tyler.
“10 pins from glory. And boy, 10 lords will leap if he makes this” eulogised Peter Drury.
“To me. To you” croaked Barry Chuckle.
And, despite having rolled his sleeves up, he missed.
No matter, the night wasn’t done yet. From there on to Carnaby Street for some more ale and then to stand outside Strawberry Moon’s for 20 minutes. The reasons for this are still unclear, but the decision to give-up and move on prompted unanimous cries of “Well, it’s f*cking a car crash of a place anyway”. Or maybe that was just me.
And then there were 5. Crouchie, Bernie, Dan, Paul and Dai – hang on, let me count that again. Five, definitely – headed for Brixton with the promise of more revelry and the outside possibility of a knifing.
It was half hour or so before we really found our feet in Brixton and then – if it’s possible – it was because we took up arms. Still smarting from narrow defeat in the bowling and with machismo coarsing through every sinew, Dan suggested an arm-wrestle. Early money went on Dan and Paul, Simon and Dai were sensibly over-looked, whilst at the off more money had been put on Bernie to be Christmas No. 1 than be arm-wrestling champion. (As it turned out, ‘Reet fit arse’ by Bernie & Mickey featuring Gary Glitter failed to get general release, though you it should still be available at www.glittermyarse.com).
In an early round, Simon beat Paul – or maybe Paul beat Simon – whilst Bernie showed his hand by putting Dai to the sword (he was later reinstated after using a sword was found to be within the rules Coyley was playing by). Bernie went on to put up good showings against the others, earning himself the nickname ‘The Arm’. By now the penny had dropped and no-one could quite believe how it was that we hadn’t imagined Bernie to have at least one giant forearm.
And so to the final. Coyle vs. Monahan. It went on for 3.5 hours and – isn’t it always the way? – as I went to get beers and hot-dogs when it finished, I can’t remember who won. I think it was Dan. Yes, it was Dan. There were definitely 2 dead on-lookers when I returned which I took to mean that Coyley had probably been defeated. Two more dead on the way to the next pub too. Carnage on the streets of London.
The night was drawing to a close but there was still time for a few rounds of shots, some circular, arm-in-arm dancing to Sheriff Fatman by Carter USM, and for Dai and Coyley to plot an unlikely coup to overthrow Bernie and sell the club on eBay. There was also time for Bernie to claim that he would “definitely take some dirt home tonight”. And still time for him to fail. Not there Bernie.
So, to sum up? Christmas comes but once a year and with nights like this, more’s the pity. Man of match awards to everyone who turned up and I’ll leave you with the words of Noddy Holder: “It is better to have bowled and lost than never to have bowled at all.”
Happy Christmas.
Forza Alliance.
Dai.
PS from the ed.
As is always the case, the evening was spoilt slightly at the end – 5 crazy, testosterone fuelled dogs made for home after a victorious KFC dinner. Only for Dai to throw his coke, in an act which can only be described as totally g*y, over the once spotlessly clean restaurant floor. I wouldnt have minded if it had been an act of valiance against the inane uniformity of everything the KFC brand stands for. But we all know that will have been cleaned up by an illegal immigrant on less than minimum wage later that evening. He knew he’d done wrong as soon as he’d done it. Suddenly the early evening bowling victory didn’t seem such a victory after all.
Merry Christmas.
BS
Sunday, 16 November 2008
15 November: Shanty Town (h): Clapham Common: League
After an absurdly bad result a week and a half ago in the cup, it was time to put some points on the board against Shanty Town at our new (for now) home ground of Clapham Common. I have happy memories of beating this lot last season, so even the dark barn that passes for changing rooms in Clapham couldn’t dampen the pre-match spirits.
The pitch was small, narrow, slightly sloping and with one goal about 25 yards in front of a busy road. Oh, and we had to frig around putting the nets up. So far I’m unimpressed with the new home ground.
Paul rounded us up for the team talk and steered clear from any mice-and-men literary symbolism this week. “We can beat these. Our luck’s got to change some time” was the long and short of it. So we line up with Eddy between the sticks, a back four of Bernie, Dan, Ketch and Chris; myself (Pete), Hudson, Simon and Ian across the middle; and Captain Coyley paired with Medge up front.
Early on we had the wind in our sails (and behind Eddy’s goal kicks) and were giving the blue-clad Shanty Town a fair bit to think about. Their subs set the team stall out early (metaphorically: it wasn’t a bring-and-buy sale) by whingeing and moaning about every tackle, and every decision by referee John. Speaking of John, when he arrived for the match the first thing he asked was “is Hudson here?” and then later recommended we get a large pot of vaseline for the first aid kit. Draw your own conclusions.
Back on the pitch, our early pressure paid off after Medge was brought down in their box. In spite of Town’s hysterics, John awarded a penalty and Paul coolly converted. 1-0. This kick up the arse gave the opposition renewed focus and they began giving us all sorts of problems, not least cos of our hopeless inability to win anything in the air. “Free header” they all chorused at each other after every goal kick. Our lead was short lived – a decent attacking move left our defence a man short and their lanky forward lobbed neatly over Eddy’s outstretched glove. 1-1 and all the chat is coming from the blue half of the pitch.
The remaining 15 minutes of the half continued in a similar vein – we gave the ball away cheaply, failed to win it back, they harried and pushed forward, using Fatty Fudge on the wing to sling in Rory Delap-style long throws. The exact details escape me but they put the ball in our net twice more before John blew for half time. 3-1 to them. Ian tried to whip up enthusiasm by shouting “heads up Alliance” as we trudged off, but I couldn’t help noticing he was staring disconsolately at the ground as he said it. We were all pretty dejected, except Paul who was apoplectic with fury that we were – once again – staring at defeat by an unimpressive and annoying opposition. No tactical changes were made (despite Bernie’s innovative suggestion we go 4-3-4) but 5 minutes soul searching evidently had some effect, as we came back after the restart looking a more purposeful side. Colin came on at left back, with Chris moving over to the right in place of Bernie.
We were clearly hungrier for goals in the 2nd half, and after less than 10 minutes we got our just desserts. A ball towards their goal (corner? Can’t remember) rattled around the box, bounced off me at the far post and Dan pounced, slotting home from close range. 3-2, game on.
Ian came off for Micah as the Alliance took a more attacking formation. Medge was causing their defence all sorts of problems, dancing round players at will, but never quite getting the final ball – despite coming close with a long-range drive that just swerved outside the top corner. Hudson had taken command of the middle of the park and was winning everything. It was tempting to think we were the only team in it, but Shanty Town were still pressing for another – a heroic , diving finger tip save by Eddy kept us in the game.
Ketch had put a couple of useful mid-field free kicks into dangerous areas, and if memory serves it was from one of these that we finally pulled level. The ball dropped into their box and Paul (I think) laid it off towards Hudson, galloping in from the middle third. He struck it hard and low from about 20 yards and the keeper had no chance. Cue wild celebrations from the Alliance. 3 all, from being 3-1 down, and we looked the better team.
Tensions were rising: the Alliance could taste victory and Shanty Town were clearly bitterly frustrated to have lost the lead. We were in the ascendancy when Dan challenged for a high ball and clashed heads with one of their players. Unfortunately this resulted in a split eyebrow and John was not happy to let Dan continue without bandaging. Perhaps worth having some plasters in the first aid kit eh lads? After hunting for bandages for about 5 minutes the game restarted with Dan watching from the sidelines and – all our subs being used already – the Alliance down to 10 men.
This was real edge-of-the-seat stuff: 11 men versus 10, 3-3 and 10 minutes to go. Steve – who had come on in place of Simon – made some important tackles, but mis-timed one of them by about 5 minutes and found his name in the book. On another day John would probably have overlooked it, but Shanty were moaning and carping so much the atmosphere had become explosive.
And so it was almost inevitable that Paul – so madly keen to secure a vital win – should put in an ever-so-slightly questionable challenge on one of their players. Well, I say questionable; you could say it was questionable whether the lad on the receiving end knew what hit him. You could even say he didn’t have the ball at the time, and that the tackle was more like a karate kick than any recognisable footballing manoeuvre. I can’t be sure personally, my view was obscured by the red mist that had descended over the pitch. Referee John was a bit affected by the heady circumstances, and gave Paul a straight red card. I didn’t even think he carried a red card. Maybe he’s just recently bought it and wanted to show it off.
In any case, the outlook of the game had changed dramatically within 5 minutes, as we were now 9 men, missing 2 of our strongest players. Frankly I still thought we could win it but Bernie, Simon and Ian sagely advised from the sidelines that we should play the clock down and defend like our lives depended on it. From the mood Paul was in as he left the pitch, our lives probably did depend on it a bit.
Unbelievably John still says there’s 10 minutes left, so we get men behind the ball and try to keep our composure. But their 2 man advantage shows as we struggle to keep possession, with only Medge up front to hoof the ball to. Mercifully, John does us an almighty favour when their man is blatantly brought down on the edge of our box, and instead of awarding a penalty, he gives us a free kick for the Shanty Towner diving! Bless him.
Shanty Town’s frustration at not finding a way through was tangible, but we defended bravely and desperately and the closest they came was when their substituted right winger struck well wide, the ball flying past the ear of a passing cyclist. A few tense minutes later and John finally blew the full time whistle, to the relief of the Northern Alliance and frustration of Shanty Town.
To paraphrase Mr Kipling, we kept our heads while all around were losing theirs and, which is more my son, held on to an exceedingly good point. It ended 3-3, but after being 3-1 down and playing the last 10 minutes with 9 men, plus coming on the back of an 8-0 defeat, it felt like a famous victory.
Several contenders for M-O-M but I’m going to go for Hudson. Great battling second half performance, and excellent goal to pull the scores level. Hats off.
Pete
The pitch was small, narrow, slightly sloping and with one goal about 25 yards in front of a busy road. Oh, and we had to frig around putting the nets up. So far I’m unimpressed with the new home ground.
Paul rounded us up for the team talk and steered clear from any mice-and-men literary symbolism this week. “We can beat these. Our luck’s got to change some time” was the long and short of it. So we line up with Eddy between the sticks, a back four of Bernie, Dan, Ketch and Chris; myself (Pete), Hudson, Simon and Ian across the middle; and Captain Coyley paired with Medge up front.
Early on we had the wind in our sails (and behind Eddy’s goal kicks) and were giving the blue-clad Shanty Town a fair bit to think about. Their subs set the team stall out early (metaphorically: it wasn’t a bring-and-buy sale) by whingeing and moaning about every tackle, and every decision by referee John. Speaking of John, when he arrived for the match the first thing he asked was “is Hudson here?” and then later recommended we get a large pot of vaseline for the first aid kit. Draw your own conclusions.
Back on the pitch, our early pressure paid off after Medge was brought down in their box. In spite of Town’s hysterics, John awarded a penalty and Paul coolly converted. 1-0. This kick up the arse gave the opposition renewed focus and they began giving us all sorts of problems, not least cos of our hopeless inability to win anything in the air. “Free header” they all chorused at each other after every goal kick. Our lead was short lived – a decent attacking move left our defence a man short and their lanky forward lobbed neatly over Eddy’s outstretched glove. 1-1 and all the chat is coming from the blue half of the pitch.
The remaining 15 minutes of the half continued in a similar vein – we gave the ball away cheaply, failed to win it back, they harried and pushed forward, using Fatty Fudge on the wing to sling in Rory Delap-style long throws. The exact details escape me but they put the ball in our net twice more before John blew for half time. 3-1 to them. Ian tried to whip up enthusiasm by shouting “heads up Alliance” as we trudged off, but I couldn’t help noticing he was staring disconsolately at the ground as he said it. We were all pretty dejected, except Paul who was apoplectic with fury that we were – once again – staring at defeat by an unimpressive and annoying opposition. No tactical changes were made (despite Bernie’s innovative suggestion we go 4-3-4) but 5 minutes soul searching evidently had some effect, as we came back after the restart looking a more purposeful side. Colin came on at left back, with Chris moving over to the right in place of Bernie.
We were clearly hungrier for goals in the 2nd half, and after less than 10 minutes we got our just desserts. A ball towards their goal (corner? Can’t remember) rattled around the box, bounced off me at the far post and Dan pounced, slotting home from close range. 3-2, game on.
Ian came off for Micah as the Alliance took a more attacking formation. Medge was causing their defence all sorts of problems, dancing round players at will, but never quite getting the final ball – despite coming close with a long-range drive that just swerved outside the top corner. Hudson had taken command of the middle of the park and was winning everything. It was tempting to think we were the only team in it, but Shanty Town were still pressing for another – a heroic , diving finger tip save by Eddy kept us in the game.
Ketch had put a couple of useful mid-field free kicks into dangerous areas, and if memory serves it was from one of these that we finally pulled level. The ball dropped into their box and Paul (I think) laid it off towards Hudson, galloping in from the middle third. He struck it hard and low from about 20 yards and the keeper had no chance. Cue wild celebrations from the Alliance. 3 all, from being 3-1 down, and we looked the better team.
Tensions were rising: the Alliance could taste victory and Shanty Town were clearly bitterly frustrated to have lost the lead. We were in the ascendancy when Dan challenged for a high ball and clashed heads with one of their players. Unfortunately this resulted in a split eyebrow and John was not happy to let Dan continue without bandaging. Perhaps worth having some plasters in the first aid kit eh lads? After hunting for bandages for about 5 minutes the game restarted with Dan watching from the sidelines and – all our subs being used already – the Alliance down to 10 men.
This was real edge-of-the-seat stuff: 11 men versus 10, 3-3 and 10 minutes to go. Steve – who had come on in place of Simon – made some important tackles, but mis-timed one of them by about 5 minutes and found his name in the book. On another day John would probably have overlooked it, but Shanty were moaning and carping so much the atmosphere had become explosive.
And so it was almost inevitable that Paul – so madly keen to secure a vital win – should put in an ever-so-slightly questionable challenge on one of their players. Well, I say questionable; you could say it was questionable whether the lad on the receiving end knew what hit him. You could even say he didn’t have the ball at the time, and that the tackle was more like a karate kick than any recognisable footballing manoeuvre. I can’t be sure personally, my view was obscured by the red mist that had descended over the pitch. Referee John was a bit affected by the heady circumstances, and gave Paul a straight red card. I didn’t even think he carried a red card. Maybe he’s just recently bought it and wanted to show it off.
In any case, the outlook of the game had changed dramatically within 5 minutes, as we were now 9 men, missing 2 of our strongest players. Frankly I still thought we could win it but Bernie, Simon and Ian sagely advised from the sidelines that we should play the clock down and defend like our lives depended on it. From the mood Paul was in as he left the pitch, our lives probably did depend on it a bit.
Unbelievably John still says there’s 10 minutes left, so we get men behind the ball and try to keep our composure. But their 2 man advantage shows as we struggle to keep possession, with only Medge up front to hoof the ball to. Mercifully, John does us an almighty favour when their man is blatantly brought down on the edge of our box, and instead of awarding a penalty, he gives us a free kick for the Shanty Towner diving! Bless him.
Shanty Town’s frustration at not finding a way through was tangible, but we defended bravely and desperately and the closest they came was when their substituted right winger struck well wide, the ball flying past the ear of a passing cyclist. A few tense minutes later and John finally blew the full time whistle, to the relief of the Northern Alliance and frustration of Shanty Town.
To paraphrase Mr Kipling, we kept our heads while all around were losing theirs and, which is more my son, held on to an exceedingly good point. It ended 3-3, but after being 3-1 down and playing the last 10 minutes with 9 men, plus coming on the back of an 8-0 defeat, it felt like a famous victory.
Several contenders for M-O-M but I’m going to go for Hudson. Great battling second half performance, and excellent goal to pull the scores level. Hats off.
Pete
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