Date: 15/8/07 Time: 21:15
Line-up: 1.Matt (c) 5.Leo 7.Dean 9.Gareth 10.Nathan 11.Adam 12.Aneel
“There goes another moment. Just wrap it up, we own it. The night’s a skill, we hone it”
The opening paragraph. It sets the tone, the theme, the thread. The absolutely most essential part of any Lungboy match report. Which I’ve just completely wasted.
With the team still enraptured with talk of last week’s game – from Matt’s controversial overlookedness as man of the match by this report author, to everything about Jon’s injury, a fanciful farce from beginning to end, it was almost unnoticed that the gaffer had successfully secured the services of a full squad, with Dean and Aneel back for a consecutive night game, like vampiric streetwalkers. The added bonus of Robbie’s cheerleader appearance in full Molly regalia, ready to step into the breach if necessary, was more boost to a suffering squad, with Steve also set to roll out the barrel once again, next week.
First game of the new campaign and the return of a familiar foe. For them. Adam “Animal” Langrish.* The opposition must’ve been wetting their kecks at the sight of the quaffed one lumbering around in the warm-up - still smarting from the pinch marks, and stretchy shirts, of his pushing and pulling style of consequential defending. Notwithstanding that, Hank & Clive had seemingly metamorphosised from League 1 whipping cream boys with a cherry on top, to cherry-busting whip-loving sadists with a new found belief, thanks it seem, to a last week only win; a reliance on a short-stop speed merc with a bullet drizzling right foot; a new keeper; and a spot of verbal aggression.
The first few minutes were full of poking and prodding, each team trying to find the vital nerve to paralyse the opposition, but it was H&C that finally drew first blood, a pacey shot going wide found Leo’s leg in its way, catapulting it’s trajectory goalward, leaving Matt stranded, in what, in real comparatory terms is a very small area to cover.
On some sub-conscious level we had to have been playing shit for a reason, that first half. Unable to mirror and counter-act the opposition’s shape, because they had none, we looked like four outfield individuals doing whatever we damned well please with the ball, wherever we were on the pitch. With Leo anchored as sweeper, it let loose our more skilful players, with a free licence to run with the ball, Aneel, Nathan and Gareth frequently attempting to bust through layers of players.
However, now on the receiving end of counter attacks and directly troubled by their pacey little man, shots were arcing at Matt from the wings, like tracer bullets – pace and precision cutting through defenders and keeper alike.
The Mollys were making incredibly hard work of it. The simple pass and move and move and pass tactic of our previous encounter was lost to excessive holding-on of the ball, like a demented rugby league game – carry the ball forward, get fouled, move the ball on again, get fouled. Thankfully H&C are not the greatest team in the tackle, and the usual bait and switch was allowing Nathan to score a family feast bucketload of some of the most fluke-assisted goals this side of a Dubious Goals panel. Gareth had also found his shooting boots, scoring the more prestigious goals of the partnership, including a goal of the match wave-riding assault down the right wing before lashing home.
Yet for all our bluster upfront, the marking and covering was as haphazard as schoolboys chasing after the tennis ball in the playground. Frequently double-teaming on the more skilled opposition, and that was before Adam started to plow into the melee looking for a foot to accidently catch, ultimately left canyons of space on the edge of D for undisturbed wank shots at Matt (I hasten to add whilst Leo was off the pitch). It was luck that got us one goal ahead from a losing position at halftime, and it was their kick-out frustration that kept us there.
I’m gonna lay this mutha-funsting report to bed now, even though it reeks of sub-standard amateurness by my own high standards. It’s been an absolute bane for the last two weeks, and quite frankly I’m sick of it. Shit, I gotta another two reports to write before Wednesday? Who do I have to sleep with around here to get a better deal?
Line-up: 1.Matt (c) 5.Leo 7.Dean 9.Gareth 10.Nathan 11.Adam 12.Aneel
“There goes another moment. Just wrap it up, we own it. The night’s a skill, we hone it”
The opening paragraph. It sets the tone, the theme, the thread. The absolutely most essential part of any Lungboy match report. Which I’ve just completely wasted.
With the team still enraptured with talk of last week’s game – from Matt’s controversial overlookedness as man of the match by this report author, to everything about Jon’s injury, a fanciful farce from beginning to end, it was almost unnoticed that the gaffer had successfully secured the services of a full squad, with Dean and Aneel back for a consecutive night game, like vampiric streetwalkers. The added bonus of Robbie’s cheerleader appearance in full Molly regalia, ready to step into the breach if necessary, was more boost to a suffering squad, with Steve also set to roll out the barrel once again, next week.
First game of the new campaign and the return of a familiar foe. For them. Adam “Animal” Langrish.* The opposition must’ve been wetting their kecks at the sight of the quaffed one lumbering around in the warm-up - still smarting from the pinch marks, and stretchy shirts, of his pushing and pulling style of consequential defending. Notwithstanding that, Hank & Clive had seemingly metamorphosised from League 1 whipping cream boys with a cherry on top, to cherry-busting whip-loving sadists with a new found belief, thanks it seem, to a last week only win; a reliance on a short-stop speed merc with a bullet drizzling right foot; a new keeper; and a spot of verbal aggression.
The first few minutes were full of poking and prodding, each team trying to find the vital nerve to paralyse the opposition, but it was H&C that finally drew first blood, a pacey shot going wide found Leo’s leg in its way, catapulting it’s trajectory goalward, leaving Matt stranded, in what, in real comparatory terms is a very small area to cover.
On some sub-conscious level we had to have been playing shit for a reason, that first half. Unable to mirror and counter-act the opposition’s shape, because they had none, we looked like four outfield individuals doing whatever we damned well please with the ball, wherever we were on the pitch. With Leo anchored as sweeper, it let loose our more skilful players, with a free licence to run with the ball, Aneel, Nathan and Gareth frequently attempting to bust through layers of players.
However, now on the receiving end of counter attacks and directly troubled by their pacey little man, shots were arcing at Matt from the wings, like tracer bullets – pace and precision cutting through defenders and keeper alike.
The Mollys were making incredibly hard work of it. The simple pass and move and move and pass tactic of our previous encounter was lost to excessive holding-on of the ball, like a demented rugby league game – carry the ball forward, get fouled, move the ball on again, get fouled. Thankfully H&C are not the greatest team in the tackle, and the usual bait and switch was allowing Nathan to score a family feast bucketload of some of the most fluke-assisted goals this side of a Dubious Goals panel. Gareth had also found his shooting boots, scoring the more prestigious goals of the partnership, including a goal of the match wave-riding assault down the right wing before lashing home.
Yet for all our bluster upfront, the marking and covering was as haphazard as schoolboys chasing after the tennis ball in the playground. Frequently double-teaming on the more skilled opposition, and that was before Adam started to plow into the melee looking for a foot to accidently catch, ultimately left canyons of space on the edge of D for undisturbed wank shots at Matt (I hasten to add whilst Leo was off the pitch). It was luck that got us one goal ahead from a losing position at halftime, and it was their kick-out frustration that kept us there.
I’m gonna lay this mutha-funsting report to bed now, even though it reeks of sub-standard amateurness by my own high standards. It’s been an absolute bane for the last two weeks, and quite frankly I’m sick of it. Shit, I gotta another two reports to write before Wednesday? Who do I have to sleep with around here to get a better deal?
Final Score: 10-9
Goal Scorers: Nathan 4, Gareth 5, Leo 1
Match Ratings: Matt 7, Leo 7, Dean 7, Gareth 7, Nathan 7, Adam 7, Aneel 7
*As people are aware, I’m happy stealing jokes and observations from fellow players to pad out match reports. Journalist first, storymaker second. But I still prefer “lummox”.
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