LOST 5-6
Matt, Leo, Big Mike1, Steve, Little Mike3, Gareth1
This match report has been reduced by 2.5%.
It’s been awhile, and in my lethargic absence, Anonymous and Gaffer have bravely offered alternative insights into the world of the Mollys, and long may it continue, with the Comments seemingly nihilistically negative, and the Gob overly orgasmically optimistic.
My trip up to the Steel City a few weeks back meant I lacked the opportunity to write up a match report for the game against Athletico Becks and the chance to call out the financial irregularities of our captain/manager and treasurer. The most notable revelation of that match came long before kick-off, with Matt showing off his new boots with a grandiose swagger of someone who had stolen money from a kitty trust fund man-purse to pay for them. Coincidently, Matt also announced that the kitty was no longer overflowing like rainbow end pots of gold, and had diminished to such an extent that any Christmas curry party would amount to hobo-licking the bottom of foil containers in the alleyway behind the Nat Raj.
Those of us with no imagination at all would happily accept such a turn of events, and rationally agree that a combination of a lack of players, and the use of a 14 year old, who can't afford the subs, but probably carries around £300 worth of stuff about his person (mp3 player, skater shoes, bling watch, PSP - source: ©The Daily Mail), has meant the man-purse has taken more hits than freemeganfoxnudepics.net. Roger Cook here however, wants a full investigation into any 3rd party Icelandic influences that our gaffer may be under; and any sinister betting patterns coinciding with Matt virtually throwing goals into his own net in recent weeks.
New boots for our keeper don't really assist of course, unless worn on the hands and would then provide a better grip on the ball than Matt's gloves have been showing. New boots however do assist the outfield players, and after literally 50 years of playing football with a pair of running shoes, Leo turned up last week finally having spent his own money on a pair of astro turf boots. This was a direct response to his previous wastefulness in the last game when a fistful of chances went straight at the opposition keeper with narrow game-losing consequences.
Leo's nu-boots (which weren’t jaffy pink) brought about the same impact that Steve's magic boots had done months previously, but in a positive way, and almost upstaged Nathan's long awaited return after his foot transplant bringing an immediate touch of attacking class, unlike Guns n’ Roses long awaited return delivering an immoderate piece of lacking ass. With one of our first team frontmen back in the line-up, it was like the good old days - a decent closely fought first half, followed by one heck of a second half collapse. With Don heckling from the sidelines about Alan and Steve’s less than stellar attacking, tracking back and defending, Steve finally snapped, telling our resident cheerleader to fuck off, in much the same way our opposition have often done. Unfortunately he wasn’t the only one to blame, as we failed to play ourselves out of our own half, and gifted them so many goals, it’s probably Christmas or something.
This week, saw the return of the other half of our double-barrelled striking shotgun, Gareth (and his floppy fringe) in a match against opponents, The Elite, we failed to beat previously when they’d gone down to four. With Little Mike in on the action, in place of an indisposed Nathan, it was now a question of whether we could now start to score goals into the double figures, after the fallow years of Alan and Big Mike upfront.
And whilst Gareth made it through the match unscathed, his first touch in much of the first half was happily humanly appalling. By the second, he’d warmed up enough, and drilled home an exceptional classic from the left. Alongside him, Little Mike also stuck home a fabulous solo goal, robbing an opposite number from our corner, running through the entire length of the pitch before sliding home. He even survived a half-time lecture from Don to track back more, and not stand idly on his own up front waiting for the counter. AND a full-time interrogation from Don, as to why he never subbed himself, despite the cheerleader’s belief he was knackered many times over. These unstoppable hormone-powered 14yr olds, eh?
The level of goals conceded was a real coup for the defensive unit - Matt, Leo and Steve working well to counter the obvious threat from the opposition’s runners - Steve getting his tactics right, “LET HIM DANCE!” as their ringer tried his blatant dodge-thrust manoeuvres to get past the crusty old sea dog, and failing on every occasion that mattered. Truly delighted with his performance, this is what happens when Steve actually DEFENDS, and the partnership with Leo was their best joint performance ever. Don would be proud.
Big Mike was a “ponsy” according to Don, which I think is a cross between pansy and ponce, wearing his shell suit trousers to keep out the cold despite the fact he has the thickest thighs of us all. Mike slammed home an early goal and celebrated like it was the 93rd minute winner, even smashing the ball home again in celebratory euphoria. Shame it only counted once, and he followed that up with less a succession of his usual high and wide shots, then with constantly getting the ball trapped beneath his retarded feet, and being turned over. In fact, from the whole strike force, there was a lot of stuttering, fumbling movements, and little incisive, crisp, immediate action. Definitely not helped by cold weather that burnt the hands, and froze the toes, our movement at times was confused and overcrowded in the final third.
Matt will protest as long as time, and as loud as hell, that their winning goal was over regulation height, but when you’ve gone to ground early, and you’re looking up from your prone useless position, everything seems like orbiting the moon from where you are. If it was that high, why didn’t you save it on the way up, or on the way down? You should’ve had enough time. Yeah, I said it.
And I agree with Don’s assertions about our pitifully slow free-kick taking (as I have done for many many years). We are not Premier League. We don’t rehearse set-pieces on the training ground. LOOK where you’re gonna play the ball. Then PUT the ball down. Then PLAY it. This is basic tactics 101. The dancing around to create space at free-kick opportunities is risible, and hoping that the opposition get suckered into calling our bluff and offering up gaps is giving us and them too much credit. Teams rarely cope with the quick ball - they can’t get men back in time. We should know - we’ve been fucked over by these two weeks running now.
In the end, we just couldn’t throw enough crap at their keeper, in the hope that some of it would stick, and another frustrating defeat raised it’s middle fingers. Their resident thug had enough time to be clattered down by a combination of Little Mike and Leo, get a free-kick awarded against him for handling, and then bitch something ponsy.
We’re improving, but without a settled side, we never have anything to build on, and the reset button gets hit every week. Where is our first real win since 10th September going to come from? Next week against the team that decimated us 17-5 last time? "Dinlo" Steve has some tactics for that. Better listen to him, eh?
Matt, Leo, Big Mike1, Steve, Little Mike3, Gareth1
This match report has been reduced by 2.5%.
It’s been awhile, and in my lethargic absence, Anonymous and Gaffer have bravely offered alternative insights into the world of the Mollys, and long may it continue, with the Comments seemingly nihilistically negative, and the Gob overly orgasmically optimistic.
My trip up to the Steel City a few weeks back meant I lacked the opportunity to write up a match report for the game against Athletico Becks and the chance to call out the financial irregularities of our captain/manager and treasurer. The most notable revelation of that match came long before kick-off, with Matt showing off his new boots with a grandiose swagger of someone who had stolen money from a kitty trust fund man-purse to pay for them. Coincidently, Matt also announced that the kitty was no longer overflowing like rainbow end pots of gold, and had diminished to such an extent that any Christmas curry party would amount to hobo-licking the bottom of foil containers in the alleyway behind the Nat Raj.
Those of us with no imagination at all would happily accept such a turn of events, and rationally agree that a combination of a lack of players, and the use of a 14 year old, who can't afford the subs, but probably carries around £300 worth of stuff about his person (mp3 player, skater shoes, bling watch, PSP - source: ©The Daily Mail), has meant the man-purse has taken more hits than freemeganfoxnudepics.net. Roger Cook here however, wants a full investigation into any 3rd party Icelandic influences that our gaffer may be under; and any sinister betting patterns coinciding with Matt virtually throwing goals into his own net in recent weeks.
New boots for our keeper don't really assist of course, unless worn on the hands and would then provide a better grip on the ball than Matt's gloves have been showing. New boots however do assist the outfield players, and after literally 50 years of playing football with a pair of running shoes, Leo turned up last week finally having spent his own money on a pair of astro turf boots. This was a direct response to his previous wastefulness in the last game when a fistful of chances went straight at the opposition keeper with narrow game-losing consequences.
Leo's nu-boots (which weren’t jaffy pink) brought about the same impact that Steve's magic boots had done months previously, but in a positive way, and almost upstaged Nathan's long awaited return after his foot transplant bringing an immediate touch of attacking class, unlike Guns n’ Roses long awaited return delivering an immoderate piece of lacking ass. With one of our first team frontmen back in the line-up, it was like the good old days - a decent closely fought first half, followed by one heck of a second half collapse. With Don heckling from the sidelines about Alan and Steve’s less than stellar attacking, tracking back and defending, Steve finally snapped, telling our resident cheerleader to fuck off, in much the same way our opposition have often done. Unfortunately he wasn’t the only one to blame, as we failed to play ourselves out of our own half, and gifted them so many goals, it’s probably Christmas or something.
This week, saw the return of the other half of our double-barrelled striking shotgun, Gareth (and his floppy fringe) in a match against opponents, The Elite, we failed to beat previously when they’d gone down to four. With Little Mike in on the action, in place of an indisposed Nathan, it was now a question of whether we could now start to score goals into the double figures, after the fallow years of Alan and Big Mike upfront.
And whilst Gareth made it through the match unscathed, his first touch in much of the first half was happily humanly appalling. By the second, he’d warmed up enough, and drilled home an exceptional classic from the left. Alongside him, Little Mike also stuck home a fabulous solo goal, robbing an opposite number from our corner, running through the entire length of the pitch before sliding home. He even survived a half-time lecture from Don to track back more, and not stand idly on his own up front waiting for the counter. AND a full-time interrogation from Don, as to why he never subbed himself, despite the cheerleader’s belief he was knackered many times over. These unstoppable hormone-powered 14yr olds, eh?
The level of goals conceded was a real coup for the defensive unit - Matt, Leo and Steve working well to counter the obvious threat from the opposition’s runners - Steve getting his tactics right, “LET HIM DANCE!” as their ringer tried his blatant dodge-thrust manoeuvres to get past the crusty old sea dog, and failing on every occasion that mattered. Truly delighted with his performance, this is what happens when Steve actually DEFENDS, and the partnership with Leo was their best joint performance ever. Don would be proud.
Big Mike was a “ponsy” according to Don, which I think is a cross between pansy and ponce, wearing his shell suit trousers to keep out the cold despite the fact he has the thickest thighs of us all. Mike slammed home an early goal and celebrated like it was the 93rd minute winner, even smashing the ball home again in celebratory euphoria. Shame it only counted once, and he followed that up with less a succession of his usual high and wide shots, then with constantly getting the ball trapped beneath his retarded feet, and being turned over. In fact, from the whole strike force, there was a lot of stuttering, fumbling movements, and little incisive, crisp, immediate action. Definitely not helped by cold weather that burnt the hands, and froze the toes, our movement at times was confused and overcrowded in the final third.
Matt will protest as long as time, and as loud as hell, that their winning goal was over regulation height, but when you’ve gone to ground early, and you’re looking up from your prone useless position, everything seems like orbiting the moon from where you are. If it was that high, why didn’t you save it on the way up, or on the way down? You should’ve had enough time. Yeah, I said it.
And I agree with Don’s assertions about our pitifully slow free-kick taking (as I have done for many many years). We are not Premier League. We don’t rehearse set-pieces on the training ground. LOOK where you’re gonna play the ball. Then PUT the ball down. Then PLAY it. This is basic tactics 101. The dancing around to create space at free-kick opportunities is risible, and hoping that the opposition get suckered into calling our bluff and offering up gaps is giving us and them too much credit. Teams rarely cope with the quick ball - they can’t get men back in time. We should know - we’ve been fucked over by these two weeks running now.
In the end, we just couldn’t throw enough crap at their keeper, in the hope that some of it would stick, and another frustrating defeat raised it’s middle fingers. Their resident thug had enough time to be clattered down by a combination of Little Mike and Leo, get a free-kick awarded against him for handling, and then bitch something ponsy.
We’re improving, but without a settled side, we never have anything to build on, and the reset button gets hit every week. Where is our first real win since 10th September going to come from? Next week against the team that decimated us 17-5 last time? "Dinlo" Steve has some tactics for that. Better listen to him, eh?
1 comment:
Quite clearly the introduction of Gareth back into the team helped to boost the team's morale.However it was also clear he was not match fit and possible should have come on for the last ten minutes of the match.I hope he will improve in the next few games.The Elite were not as good as they thought they were!!Team wise the mollies played well and for each other a rare sight in these last few weeks,passing to each other was markly improved and there was no dribbling through on your own which can usually be broken down quite easily. Steve's tackles were good and he was rarely beaten he appears to have accepted the defenders role with ease. It must have been a big step for him and this is to his credit. " Old forwards never die they become defenders and become wiser " I am hopeful Allan will have the good grace to do likewise.Leo played his usuasl game and was in the thick of it throughtout, Matt's long throws were unusally accurate and his goalkeeping kept the scoreline down to 6, Big Mike played well and no-one could doubt his committment to the mollies. Little Mike played his usual game refusing to come back and help his defenders out in the first half after some encouraging words at half time he did improve in the second half however, he steadfastly refused to be subbed off saying later he wasn't tired I respectfully suggested it wasn't always about what he thought, it should be about the team. Clearly if the gaffer plays him again? I wouldn't for at least a couple of matches,then he needs to act as a team member.
Point of note Elite had 8 players and substitutions were regularly spaced I have suggested that our players should be subbed at regular intervals rather than putting their hand up when they feel tired or guilty?It may change our losing streak if decisions regarding subbing were made by players not on the pitch and their advisor yours truly.
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