LOST 11-2
1.Matt 3.Alan 4.Steve 5.Leo 6.Robbie 7.Nathan (2)
“We are ready for the siege. We are armed up to the teeth”
The day the football died. The day Southampton FC spun off into the financial abyss and League One oblivion, never to return.
For The Molly Maguires however, this was a new beginning, a new day of the week, and new challenges.
New challenges, like finding a gawd damn parking space - in a disabled bay, on a grass verge, on a petrol station forecourt. Like not passing comment on Alan’s black and white goatee - ask him to pucker up and you’d be looking at a badger’s bum. Like not laughing at Matt’s bumblebee costume, worn for comedic effect, or to draw goal shot fire; a living breathing Simpsons’ character - the ’bumble’ true enough. Like integrating another new member of Alan’s extended genepool, freshly cloned, youthful and pacey. Like getting used to seeing tight cycle short on leggy girls, and the peek of bra straps, other than those belonging to Matt.
In football terms however, it was same shit, different day.
With James still suffering whiplash from the British version of Speed - brakeless double-decker mounting pavements at 25mph for 100 yards- he was nevertheless an excited spectator alongside a ‘ready if needed’ Rob.
Having abandoned Wednesdays, for the greater likelihood of having to play opposition every week, the chance to gawp at footballing ladies, to boost squad numbers, to watch Champions’ League matches uninterrupted, we were in uncharted territory, with every team a mystery to solve. Our first opponents were less like the retired yacht builders Steve had hoped for, and more like spunky cabin boys.
So we tried to implement a better tactical system that would play better to individual strengths; Leo’s intercepting skills, Robbie’s foot first tackling and blocking; Steve’s long-sighted short-range passing; Alan’s incessant running, and Nathan v2.0’s aggression and smash-shooting.
Playing the game in daylight and being able to see our team mates was an obvious bonus. However, a soft referee and some tetchy initial coming togethers sparked off a few bruising running battles. The Mollys played a quasi-defensive formation that drew fire toward Matt’s goal, but enabled us attempts at the counter-attack. Unfotunately those attempts were insipid and androgynous.
Long story short: Alan held the ball up well as our escape-route frontman, but his soft n’ slow lay-offs produced little crunch and deserved even less credit. Steve produced another inspired one-two passing move that saw him bundle his way through the centre midfield, but his resulting shot was tame and claimed. Leo played his sweeper role well for much of the match, until an obvious failing of the team playing too deep and producing little bite in attack saw him press further forward, isolating himself from his team-mates, who will remain nameless, incapable of playing accurate passes from the back.
From the back, Robbie was incapable of playing passes accurately, getting his foot caught under the ball and being turned over too regularly. The defence’s tackling was up to snuff, but, again, -broken record- Matt’s rushing the edge of the D didn’t help him with the angled corner drives. Nathan appeared to have no faith in his own passing ability or running at defenders from deep, as the inordinate amount of back passing to Matt was eventually punished with a penalty awarded against us, and duly dispatched. Practising saving those will be needed for the August tournament, believe me. Alan’s shooting was haphazardly off the mark, Leo’s shooting was straight at their goalie. Only Nathan had the gumption to drill past the Yachts’ admittedly half-decent keeper.
At half-time we were 4-1 down, and Steve suggested tactical changes. Leo disagreed, believing we could build on our efforts and pull the deficiet back. We lost the second half 7-1. Go figure. There was little positive to take away from this match. We looked out of our depth, against fitter, faster opposition, and these guys weren’t even that good. Robbie continues to show me his bruises like they’re medals of valour, but even his brick wall defending won’t save us from a succession of defeats this season.
1.Matt 3.Alan 4.Steve 5.Leo 6.Robbie 7.Nathan (2)
“We are ready for the siege. We are armed up to the teeth”
The day the football died. The day Southampton FC spun off into the financial abyss and League One oblivion, never to return.
For The Molly Maguires however, this was a new beginning, a new day of the week, and new challenges.
New challenges, like finding a gawd damn parking space - in a disabled bay, on a grass verge, on a petrol station forecourt. Like not passing comment on Alan’s black and white goatee - ask him to pucker up and you’d be looking at a badger’s bum. Like not laughing at Matt’s bumblebee costume, worn for comedic effect, or to draw goal shot fire; a living breathing Simpsons’ character - the ’bumble’ true enough. Like integrating another new member of Alan’s extended genepool, freshly cloned, youthful and pacey. Like getting used to seeing tight cycle short on leggy girls, and the peek of bra straps, other than those belonging to Matt.
In football terms however, it was same shit, different day.
With James still suffering whiplash from the British version of Speed - brakeless double-decker mounting pavements at 25mph for 100 yards- he was nevertheless an excited spectator alongside a ‘ready if needed’ Rob.
Having abandoned Wednesdays, for the greater likelihood of having to play opposition every week, the chance to gawp at footballing ladies, to boost squad numbers, to watch Champions’ League matches uninterrupted, we were in uncharted territory, with every team a mystery to solve. Our first opponents were less like the retired yacht builders Steve had hoped for, and more like spunky cabin boys.
So we tried to implement a better tactical system that would play better to individual strengths; Leo’s intercepting skills, Robbie’s foot first tackling and blocking; Steve’s long-sighted short-range passing; Alan’s incessant running, and Nathan v2.0’s aggression and smash-shooting.
Playing the game in daylight and being able to see our team mates was an obvious bonus. However, a soft referee and some tetchy initial coming togethers sparked off a few bruising running battles. The Mollys played a quasi-defensive formation that drew fire toward Matt’s goal, but enabled us attempts at the counter-attack. Unfotunately those attempts were insipid and androgynous.
Long story short: Alan held the ball up well as our escape-route frontman, but his soft n’ slow lay-offs produced little crunch and deserved even less credit. Steve produced another inspired one-two passing move that saw him bundle his way through the centre midfield, but his resulting shot was tame and claimed. Leo played his sweeper role well for much of the match, until an obvious failing of the team playing too deep and producing little bite in attack saw him press further forward, isolating himself from his team-mates, who will remain nameless, incapable of playing accurate passes from the back.
From the back, Robbie was incapable of playing passes accurately, getting his foot caught under the ball and being turned over too regularly. The defence’s tackling was up to snuff, but, again, -broken record- Matt’s rushing the edge of the D didn’t help him with the angled corner drives. Nathan appeared to have no faith in his own passing ability or running at defenders from deep, as the inordinate amount of back passing to Matt was eventually punished with a penalty awarded against us, and duly dispatched. Practising saving those will be needed for the August tournament, believe me. Alan’s shooting was haphazardly off the mark, Leo’s shooting was straight at their goalie. Only Nathan had the gumption to drill past the Yachts’ admittedly half-decent keeper.
At half-time we were 4-1 down, and Steve suggested tactical changes. Leo disagreed, believing we could build on our efforts and pull the deficiet back. We lost the second half 7-1. Go figure. There was little positive to take away from this match. We looked out of our depth, against fitter, faster opposition, and these guys weren’t even that good. Robbie continues to show me his bruises like they’re medals of valour, but even his brick wall defending won’t save us from a succession of defeats this season.
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