Robbie: A 20 st Portrait - Trailer

Match Thirteen

MATCH THIRTEEN vs. The Offsiders/Legate FC 25/4/07 21:15
Win 10-0

By Default

Players' Poll of The Season Spring 2007 Nominations

Oh yes. We're rapidly approaching the end of this seminal first season in the Wednesday League's Division 2, with two games remaining, and as is tradition, it's almost time to choose your winners in the eight award categories. The following nominations are just suggestions - you can pick your own winners, even pick yourself. You can give your reasons why, or not. And of course, the last two matches may be so brilliant or shit, that they too deserve a vote. All replies treated in the strictest confidence. Closing date is 4/5/07. Please send your votes to lungboy@ntlworld.com

Best Team Performance
21/2 Whitehouse FC - Won 13-11 (Nathan's debut)
7/3 The Offsiders - Drew 9-9 (second half fightback)
4/4 Jason's Helmets - Drew 10-10 (another second half fightback)
18/4 Arselona - Won 16-4 (Robbie inspires goal explosion)

Worst Team Performance
21/3 Don't Give A FC - Lost 3-11 (cow, bango, backside)
28/3 Almost England - Lost 0-10 (injuries galore)
11/4 Whitehouse FC - Drew 9-9 (second half collapse)

Best Individual Match Performance (previous winners Matt, Leo, Jon, Gareth)
Don vs Jason's Helmets 4/4
Robbie vs Arselona 18/4
Gareth vs Jason's Helmets 14/2

Best Individual Non-Match Performance (previous winners Dean, Leo, Jon)
Don's cheerleading
Leo's blog
Matt's captaincy

Best New Player (previous winners Matt, Martyn, Steve)
Adam
Jon
Manon (the invisible French player that Matt keeps throwing the ball to)
Martin
Nathan

Most Improved Player (previous winners Nobby, Steve, Ian, Robbie)
Don
Jon
Robbie
Steve

Most Indispensible Player (previous winner Leo)
Gareth
Jon
Matt

Special Mention/Highlight of the Season
Anything you like

Match Twelve

MATCH TWELVE vs. Arselona 18/04/07 20:30
Win 16-4
1.Matt (c) 4.Steve 6.Robbie 8.Jon 9.Gareth 11.Adam 14.Nathan

Many thanks to Club Reporter for the following report:

Turk-ish Delight by Club Reporter

Robbie Turkington inspired the Molly Maguires to a sensational free scoring return to form against lowly Arselona at the Millbrook Astrodome last night. The tough tackling, defensive stalwart took his season’s goal tally to a career best, one, as his spectacular thunderbolt instigated a crazy final two minutes which saw EIGHT Mollies’ strikes on target and the effete Arselona centre forward hurl his boots into the net in a pique of frustration.

The talk in the pubs and bars of Millbrook before the start of the match centred upon the Mollies rapid descent down the table in recent weeks. Despite losing relatively few games, a spate of high scoring draws had left them hovering precariously above the relegation positions. The team remained in ebullient mood though, recounting their previous 16-5 drubbing of Arselona earlier in the season. Team changes were inevitable for the return leg. Gorgeous Adam was back after a self imposed lay off, replacing Leo who had decided to spend the night copying his video collection of Keeping Up Appearances onto DVD format. Don hinted that Gareth’s friend was “turning up to watch and maybe play”, though he never showed. Meanwhile, Gaffer Matt’s “Frank Spencer-esque” style of management which has courted controversy this season, claimed ignorance as to the final line up, claiming that he hadn’t read his emails. Nonetheless, it was a formidable line up who took the pitch, which included the welcome return of hard running seaman Steve, finally fully recovered from his rib injury.

Arselona kicked off and immediately gave the ball to Gareth, who passed to Nathan who stroked the ball home with aplomb. From the resulting kick off, the ball was inexplicably presented to Gareth again who gobbled up the gift like a gannet at a gurnard feast and drove the ball home. Barely a minute gone and the Mollies led two nil, in spite of only touching the ball three times.

Confidence spread through the team like the clap through Portsmouth and the Mollies took complete control, displaying a dominance sorely missed during the previous week’s diabolical defensive display. Nathan and Gareth once again displayed why many cogent observers are declaring them to be the new Linekar and Beardsley, albeit without the jug ears and hunched back. Jon and Steve took control of midfield. Tendons, bones and cartilages as weak as kittens’ maybe but a crunch in the tackle equivalent to a sporting Golden Delicious. In defence, Robbie and Adam imposed themselves upon the Arselona forwards; their sheer “tag team” bulk compensating for their clear lack of control, touch, skill, etc, etc and so on. The Mollies were working like a well-oiled machine and Matt was providing the grease. Although he had little to contend with, the Mollies stopper’s shot stopping was first class and for the first 10 minutes a clean sheet seemed a genuine possibility. As usual, his distribution was piss poor though. Admittedly, the Mollies’ forwards provided few options but a throw to a player with his back turned accompanied by a shout of “man on!” is not the best option.

It was from such wayward distribution that Arselona clawed their way back into the game. The half finished 6-2 to Mollies. Tired limbs raised concern in some quarters of a further capitulation after a strong half time position.

The fears were well founded. Arselona sniffed an opportunity and began the second half with renewed vigour. Gareth’s jinks and jimmies, so effective in the first half, were met with cynical shoulder charges and ankle taps, most of which were missed by the ref who had been forced to go to the other side of the pitch to a less appropriate referring vantage point in order to avoid Don’s incessant complaints. Fitness began to play a huge factor. Jon’s running, so impressive in the first half, deteriorated rapidly to the extent that Aesop was considering re-naming his hair and tortoise fable after him. Then, disaster! Steve pulled up in agony; his calf had gone. God knows where but now the Mollies only had one fit sub…. and five unfit outfield players. A spectacular upset now looked a distinct possibility and soon became a definite certainty when Matt inexplicably picked the ball up a full 2 two yards outside of his box. The subsequent penalty was thumped home and although only minutes remained and the Mollies led 8-4, yet another draw or even defeat was on the cards.

Cometh the hour, cometh the man though. And what a man. A fecund, virile brute of a man. The Turk has long had his admirers and has a well-earned reputation as a footballers footballer. It’s not hard to see why following his decision to take this game by the scruff of the neck. Picking up an unusually accurate throw out from Matt (or a mis-thow?), Robbie strode forward like a colossus. The Arselona defence backed off, logically anticipating that once he got past the half way dot he’d keel over clutching his side. Adrenaline was driving this young buck forward though and once he got past the half way dot he cleverly anticipated the potential onset of fatigue and sensibly swung his foot like the proverbial traction engine. A combination of Richard Noble, Linford Christie and the Red Arrows couldn’t have carried the ball quicker or truer. The keeper looked on in astonishment as it rasped into the top corner. Robbie turned on a sixpence and strode back to his position, arm raised proud, like the Statue of liberty at the end of Planet of the Apes. The opposition metaphorically sunk to their knees like Chuck Heston in that very same film “Damn you! You finally did it!” they may as well have been shouting too. That’s your lot, I can’t think of any other analogies to milk from that film.

The ref confirmed that only two and a half minutes remained. Turk had made the match safe and would surely and deservedly take all the plaudits…….….well actually no. Jon finished off a free flowing move with a left foot thunderbolt, Adam scored from inside his own half with a better and harder shot than Robbie, and none of the histrionics afterwards. Gareth curled home a peach. The goals kept coming. Frustrated by his team’s remarkable capitulation the Arselona striker threw his boots into Mollies net and played for the last three goals in stockinged feet. The ref proved how observant he was, and thereby explaining some of his really shit earlier decisions, by candidly remarking that he hadn’t noticed. He’s a tit that ref.

The match finished with the rather flattering score line of 16-4. 32 goals in two matches against the same opposition, less than 10 conceded! Clearly, Arselona aren’t the strongest team in the league but its safe to say they haven’t been on the receiving end of drubbings like that from any of the other teams. Powergrade Wednesday Night Division 2 safety must surely be assured now. Gaffer Matt will be looking to build on this success for next season. Promotion is now an obvious aim

Team Ratings: Matt 7, Robbie 9, Steve 7, Jon 7, Adam 7, Nathan 8 Gareth 9
MOTM: Robbie
Goals: Gareth 7, Nathan 4, Jon 2, Robbie 1, Adam 1, og 1

Many thanks to Robbie for the following report (Not Safe For Work):

Beyond Football - The Gallery

"Photo from Carmel's sister's 30th birthday celebrations. An 80s theme."

Submitted by Jon (age mid-30s) from Southampton.

Team Photo

Click on the photos for a larger image. I prefer either 2 or 3. Is it just me or does it look like Robbie's wet himself?

Match Eleven

MATCH ELEVEN vs. Whitehouse FC 11/04/07 19:45
Draw 9-9
1.Matt (c) 5.Leo 6.Robbie 8.Jon 9.Gareth 12.Martin 14.Nathan

Due to unforeseen circumstances, this report does not exist.

Goal Scorers: Jon 2, Martin 1, Gareth 3, Nathan 3
Match Ratings: Matt 7, Leo 7, Robbie 7, Jon 7, Gareth 7, Martin 7, Nathan 7

Coming Soon: Robbie - A 20 st Portrait

Ghost In The Machine

Below is a piss-poor quality MPEG of the highlights of the match against Jason's Helmets 4/4/07. This is due to the limited MB allowance at YouTube. I will be attaching better quality video snippets to the main match report in due course, in a picture book style. But until then, enjoy Robbie's hilarious commentary.

What the goals website said.....

Match Ten

MATCH TEN vs. Jason's Helmets 04/04/07 19:00
Draw 10-10
1.Matt (c) 3.Don 5.Leo 6.Robbie 8.Jon 9.Gareth 14.Nathan

“Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend. Somewhere along in the bitterness. And I would have stayed up with you all night. Had I known how to save a life.”

Save the cheerleader. Save the world.

It may be a mantra unfamiliar to many, until heard uttered on BBC2 later this year, but it defines the mission. Of seemingly ordinary people. Doing extraordinary things. The cheerleader is the key, by whom the power to avert annihilation can be unlocked. Oh how life imitates art. Oh how our very own cheerleader saved us all.

Surprise has a habit of taking you unaware. And the week was full of surprises. As if Lucy Pinder finally exposing her nipples in Nuts magazine wasn’t enough, Don showing off his pasty legs after 18 months, almost literally pale(d) by comparison, in the flesh baring stakes.

Injuries have had a disabilitating effect on the team this season, and this fortnight was no exception. Last week’s match had been conceded by the gaffer, by default, due to a shortage of able bodies, to the approval of some, and the chagrin of others. With Jon not willing to risk a full match without substitution, and suggestions of a ringer falling on deaf ears, Matt was free to moonlight as head coach of England with the usual shitty results.

This week, ever present Steve finally succumbed to an injury sustained in the previous match, and Dean kept everyone guessing as to whether his village homosexual balloon-shaped ankle had sufficiently straighten up to be playable with. Well actually, he’d made it very clear he was out for the rest of the season, but Matt, he who cannot read, saw fit to name him in a masterstroke that saw the squad a player short, moments before kick off.

At ten to, with Robbie dribbling of news that Jon and Nathan had only just left work, schemes of delaying kick off were concocted, but not necessary to call into action, as the midfield general joined the team in a protracted warm-up, to make a starting five. Matt baggsied the far end of the pitch, to avoid the setting sun, in the only worthwhile tactical decision he’s ever made. Still, would’ve helped to have known in advance (from those who played them last time) that the Helmets wore a blue strip, sponsored and numbered, so to avoid a colour clash and see which personnel had actually retained that Umbro diamond white away number.

As it was, the Mollys donned the bibs of orange. Jon, meanwhile, got in his bitch about his injured leg a lot earlier than normal, which made his stunning second half display all the more hustling. Having spent so much time on the treatment table this season, it would probably be more cost effective, if Jon were the treatment table. With Nathan still another ten minutes away, hurtling like a bullet train from Newbury, the team of five got settled into what could be a long and tortuous forty minutes against a team that easily mirrored us in skill and fitness.

Having the video evidence to hand, facts can be little in dispute. The first half being a complete police baton disabled smacking terrace riot. Sure, the opposition resembled the cast of Golden Axe (well – the dwarf anyway), with a notable fellow looking like the Pub Landlord, with J-Lo’s arse, but they played with a fluidity that saw them walking on water, whilst we were merely treading it. Robbie stood between the ball and the net when five of the goals against us were scored, as the opposition were confident to shoot through, around and at our defenders, from all areas of the pitch, with Matt falling to his knees, like someone had sliced his legs off from under them.

We’d started slowly, certainly things never getting going till Nathan arrived, coming out of hyperspace, ten minutes into the match. With Jon feeling a tweak merely by walking onto the pitch, and Gareth fearing he would never see a clean pass to him without dropping deep, the Mollys were the shy lame loser in the room corner of the party, sipping on his beer, whilst all around were dancing like goons. With absolutely no structure to our shape, and no designated positions, we barely made any inroads at the oppo’s goal, only getting the lucky break of a foot in the D penalty, coolly dispatched by Gareth. And admittedly, a well worked passing move that saw Gareth slide in another goal, upgraded our first half performance from ‘frozen faeces’ to ‘lukewarm puke’.

We'd hit the woodwork a couple of times, and Gareth was long shooting from kick-off with the alarming regularity afforded to him by our goal concessions, but the damage had long been done in the first five minutes. Only a miracle of inspirational awesomeness would be able to salvage this car-crash pile-up of a performance.

Yeah, I haven’t got a lot else to tell you about the first half.

Half-time saw Nathan, as the only one not completely breathless, taking the opportunity to inspire us to keep the ball better and slow down our frenetic panic-passing, whilst Jon ranted about how shit the ref was, and even Gareth weighed in with a tactical nugget to make more space without over-commiting men forward. Don revealed how distraught he was at our performance that he had selflessly nipped into a phone box, to change into his superhero pants, whilst no one was looking. He needed just a little encouragement, but “Grandpa Johnson” was going to provide the necessary buffer to our fitness freight train, as he dodged Death armed with a heart attack-shaped scythe for twenty minutes.

The change in tactics was extremely notable. Either through complacency or weariness, Jason’s Helmets sat back, inviting us to attack them. This allowed Gareth and Nathan to sit higher up the pitch where they were better stationed to inflict the necessary damage. Gareth was finally putting together shimmies and dribbles on the left wing that got him clear from his marker to shoot relentless at goal, and Jon had recovered a second wind that saw him put together short, sharp shock runs into danger areas, including a goal of the game precision run and shot, that belied his bigness.



The video still doesn’t lie, but thankfully for the second half it speaks only of sexy erotica, and not night vision sleaze. The play throughout seemed inordinately slow, the ball caught frequently beneath the feet of the opposition, allowing us to win more of the fifty-fifty balls, and come through the last line of defence. Goals started to flow like fluid from a dyke’s hole, the Gareth and Nathan axis coming good, with Jon providing the necessary link between attack and defence.

Our free-kicks have shown constant signs of improvement, in no small part to Nathan taking responsibility for them, allowing Gareth and Jon to provide the necessary movement, for deftly weighted passes. Jon barely moved a couple of yards as he latched onto two terrific freekicks that he swept into the net with that outside of his foot toepoke thing he does. One of those goals being the last minute equaliser that saw Jon trundle onto the pitch straight onto the end of the pass that drew us level in a dog fight we’d previously hadn’t a cat’s chance in hell of getting anything from.



Of course none of this would’ve been possible without the luxury of another substitute to combat the fatigues of Jon, Robbie and Leo. And so it came to pass, that the retired kitman, resident cheerleader fulfilled the yearning he’d been harbouring deep in his gut since September 2005, that feeling of stepping out onto the hallowed turf with his idols, like a child matchday mascot, with slightly more effectiveness.

Gawd only knows what Jason’s Helmets must’ve made of our last chance throw of the dice, but we had at least someone on the pitch, rivalling in size, statue and strength of two of their brutes, and it was on this foundation that we built this superb comeback. Don, playing under a pseudonym and without socks, punched, and pummelled his way around the pitch in an awe-inspiring display. Never mind the length, feel the width.

Mirroring the opposition’s first half scoreline, the Mollys scored 8 to their 2 in the second half to wrap up a well deserved point, and it remains to be seen whether Don’s retirement/comeback is destined to be remembered like George Foreman’s boxing or like George Foreman’s grill. Whether commemorative t-shirts should be printed depends on whether Matt can dig money out of the kitty with the same regularity he digs the ball out of his net (yep, left the obligatory ‘dig’ to the last minute), but for now Don’s accomplishment is certainly worthy of a bronze statue with disproportionately short (marble white) legs.

Goal Scorers: Gareth 6, Jon 3, Nathan 1
Match Ratings: Matt 7, Don 9, Leo 7, Robbie 7, Jon 8, Gareth 9, Nathan 8
Man of the Match: Don

Match Nine

MATCH NINE vs. Almost England 28/3/07 21:15
Lose 0-10

By Default