1.Matt 5.Leo 6.Robbie 7.Dean 9.Gareth 10.Dave
“Looks like it all went wrong. What am I to do? What am I to do?”
Centigrade 7/7.
It’s rare, if never, that this author censors himself within the pages of his own match report but sometimes the warning to not cross the streams should be heeded. Into the bin goes an entire busload of topical jokes, metaphors and social satire about the G8 summit, the London Underground and suicide bombers that would’ve normally infused this football report. Just as you’ve never been able to watch the likes of Passenger 57 as in-flight movies, despite kids still being able to watch films with explicit sex and language at the push of an armrest button, so you won’t hear any remarks about football being more important than life and death, amongst all the explicit insults and irreverent chastising.
Furthermore, despite some painfully funny comedy gold by some of the squad at the expense of a mystery person, this author has decided that such japing cannot be printed, for fear of said mystery being solved. While there’s a possible readership of some 15 people (twelve Molly squad members, one probation officer, Steve’s daughter and Matt’s ‘girlfriend’), there are also those unknown elements, who usually read this thing whilst it’s stuck up on a wall. Hello to all of you.
In my two jobs, as report writer and defensive lynchpin, I have tried to avoid using this piece of journalism as a political soapbox, brainwashing propaganda or moralistic judging. With some current affairs already reeking of rot – Live 8, London 2012, Michael Jackson’s unequivocal innocence, Steven Gerrard’s equivocal loyalty, there is nothing left to do then plough on with the actual match reporting.
The ten o’clock kick-off, and the current injury to Jon, meant the team effectively picked itself, with Nobby subsequently crying off, travelling to the exotic farmyard of Wales, hoping the door didn’t hit him on the way out. Leo (season 3’s most indispensable player) put behind him his snapped toenail injury (with good use of callisthenics), and limped into battle with a badly bruised little toe instead, linking up with Robbie for the A+ defensive partnership. Gareth and Dave remained the undisputed gold star attack partnership, with Dean (season 3’s best average rated player) making a talismanic cameo appearance to put last week’s softcore centre to shame. And finally, Matt provided the finishing follow through on a mouthwateringly meaty line-up.
With Don fearful of potentially blustery conditions and bemoaning the absence of his Molly shirt, he was not prepared to remove his jacket, and suit and boot up as our 7th man. Instead, the team remained engrossed by his continuing Adventures in Babysitting, as Leo’s ‘paternal’ quip within Don’s punching reach, received a suitably dirty look, while pansies Dean and Robbie backed away to a minimum safe distance hoping to rubberneck an explosion. For the record, in my humble opinion, Don is one of the toppest living Geordies I have ever known (after Jimmy Nail and Anthony from Big Brother). With little Aaron clocking up some serious hours past bedtime to watch the Mollys play, another true supporter has emerged. Start ‘em young, and you can fleece them for merchandise money later on.
The enemy had been spotted around the area, but with all good spoiling tactics, decided to keep us waiting for a good four minutes, while we picked our favourite far end and warmed up, before the testosterone whiff of arrogance was finally upon us. Despite suggestions that we were brown paper bagging the referee and despite the Leap having a half-dozen supporters (mainly frothing teenage girls), and a full complement of substitutes, the Mollys were assured in their approach, and up for the challenge. No-one plays a ten o’clock match simply to hide.
This result would be our first victory in four attempts against the youth and spunk of Salmon Leap. Purveyors of ball control and attacking options, but completely one-dimensional, unable to adapt, and lacking any noticeable tackling ability. With the Mollys understanding their roles, and for the most part, clearly defined as attack and defence, with Dean as a membrane between the two, Salmon Leap were taken back to school (just six hours after their last home time) for some harsh lessons in teamwork.
With Dean away at another gig next week that again conveniently falls on a Thursday (it’s easier for him to recite the barcode number on the back of an album cover than describe any of his favourite bands’ sound to normal people), the Gaffa was eager to impress in his first run out for over a month. It’s his sheer unselfish workrate that helped plug any gaps, the substitute medication, the methadone script to the heroin of Gareth or the crack of Dave. Dean’s ‘shooting’ defies its very definition, but his feel-good motivating presence could never be duplicated.
The first half was a tight sordid affair. Robbie took his sweet time to settle, ballooning the ball up and out, off his toe in the opening exchanges, as he anchored the defence, with Leo floating just in front of him to attempt the odd long range lucky potshot, or to cover the inevitable runners. The Molly’s attack displayed their usual flair, making the correct snap decisions to take the ball on their own, or switch the play across the pitch, with some real unselfish pass and move.
We pressured their last man at all times, and rarely was a Leaper without his own personal Molly shadow. They liked to play it out of defence and down the wings; rarely would the back man bring it forward himself, and with possible circulation severely restricted by a disciplined Molly team, they rarely penetrated the Molly’s final third without a barrier. We made the most of the harrying in the first half, Gareth exploiting a quick hat-trick with some fantastically taken close-range efforts. On at least two occasions, Gareth reacted with impeccable timing to rebounds off the keeper or back wall, getting first to the ball, and fending off the marker to smash the ball home. Their keeper must’ve had hands of straw, as he didn’t have enough power to push the shots away, and they rammed into the net with that satisfying thud against the bags behind the goal.
At the other end, Leo and Robbie were displaying some of their best work to stem a white tide that knew nothing but attack. When the ball went into the corner, the Leap rarely got it back, with either a Molly shepherding it back to Matt, or the ball being intercepted in midfield for a swift counter-attack. Admittedly, the defence were standing off the ball pos(sess)er a lot, ready to react to the pass, and instead this encouraged the Leapers to shoot from distance, with Matt again proving, that even he can’t get his body down quick enough to stop some rasping drilled shots into his corners. If you dropped a ton of feathers and a ton of Matt off a high rise building, which would hit the ground first? Some would call these kind of concessions soft, but Matt’s close range skills more than make up for some of his more eccentric stooping saves.
With a cautious defence, in no hurry to run around looking for the throw out from Matt, the keeper was pressured into sending the ball either very long, or very short. We had enough confidence to pass it about our back line, and when necessary pump the ball forward for our strikers to try and beat their markers, and rarely did we over-egg the pudding. Our football was our usual direct, missile-lock, target-acquired stuff. If any Mollys (i.e. Dave and Gareth) were dribbling across the width of the pitch, I sure don’t remember it.
Leo’s Top Tactical Tip no.78 When defending a free-kick very close to the edge of the goalkeeper’s area, deploy a TWO man wall. An attacker’s natural instinct is to shoot directly at goal from the free-kick, but this instinct will immediately be curtailed by the presence of a TWO man wall. A one man wall is just a man. Once the freekick has been played, the TWO man wall will need to break quickly to close down the second ball. This is EASY.
The first half finished 5-4. I’m still not clear if we were a goal up or down. All this psychological gamesmanship we seem to indulge in confuses even me. Dave provided the calm and calculated team talk – firmer passing, look for the man - and the Mollys were ready for the expected onslaught, as we would inevitably tire with our six strong squad.
In fact, with our lack of options, things were very simple. While Gareth probably lasted the full 50 minutes, any other Molly coming on, as a substitute, knew exactly what position they should adopt, and our resolve to put our lungs, toes, ankles and testicles on the line for the team was paramount to a successful second half.
We continued to contain the Leap’s attacking threat and Gareth and Dave continued to punish their soft as toilet tissue tackling. It says something when even Gareth can fend off his equivalent bodyweight to rip shots at the keeper. Do none of them say to themselves, “I remember that lanky nipper. He’s good, probably their best player, we should smack him into the wall and mark him out of the game this time”? If we can identify their best player and sit on him for the last 10 minutes, you’d think some little all white scrots in all-white kits would be able to do the same.
With Gareth and Dave blitzing through the Leap’s midfield to harass a solitary defender in several two-on-one scenarios, they were indulging in their own personal battle to score the best goal against their keeper, with Gareth probably edging it with a scything outside of the foot that cannoned into the stanchion and back out again.
Gareth successfully converted another penalty to maintain his 100% Le Tissier-beating record, while Dave slowly but surely started to retreat into his own half. As every game passes, Dave appears to be going backwards, instead encouraging the likes of Dean and Leo to press forward instead. By the end of the season, I’d expect Dave to be sitting in Matt’s lap (with room to spare). Of course, it could’ve just been a big ruse for Dave to pick up the ball deep, and then attempt to bludgeon his way through the entire Leap team in his quest for the goal of the season, were it not the fact he was playing long through balls, and expecting his less fit team mates to chase after it.
Leo’s Top Tactical Tip no.13 When a right-footed player takes a penalty, he will ALWAYS shoot toward the right hand side of goal from his point of view. Therefore the keeper should ALWAYS dive to his left from his point of view. A right-footed player will NEVER shoot across himself. There’s no real evidence, but this is FACT.
We’d slowly but surely increased our lead to a margin that some firm concentration could maintain. It wasn’t easy, but we weren’t chasing a game we were winning, we never collapsed, and the safe ball to Matt was always the first option. We did let in some sloppy goals, a strike on the edge of the D, a cheap slip into Matt’s near post, and a cruel close range deflection from Leo’s clearance when the trigger switch backfired, but the hard graft at the back was paying off. Matt was emphasising his imposing figure, with a goal-keeping highlight, as the Leap’s star player got behind the back line to go one on one with Matt. Coming right out onto the edge of the D, the Leaper tried to dribble around Matt, who followed him around with some crab-like squatting movements, pressuring him to shank his shot wide.
We let them pussyfoot around with the ball in the middle third of the pitch, staying tight, but not overcommiting, and the communication levels between the outfield players, and the awareness of the opposition running was benchmark setting stuff.
Their star player was reduced to footballing foreplay, with no climax, as Leo slowly man-marked him out of the last few minutes, gaining a few inches on him to get to the ball first before getting decked or slammed into the wall, as the Leaper’s ‘momentum’ brought him crashing into the lynchpin. This didn’t stop Leo from ransacking a goal, bursting beyond the halfway line to hit ‘a too hard to stop’ shot, making up for his earlier point blank smack straight at the keeper, having been set up by Dean. Robbie, not wishing to be left out of the goal-scoring party, then had his opportunity to break down the right wing before cannoning a shot into goal from a tight angle.
Dean was having less luck in front of goal, having now failed to score since April. Perhaps Dean’s preference to swing low and free was impinging his ability to get a proper grip on the through balls coming his way. No wonder Robbie and Dean were earlier swapping stories about testicular saddle-sore, like a couple of old married men. Dean’s final act in an otherwise superb display of example leading was to miss an absolute sitter on the edge of the D, and do his ankle in as a result. So he hobbled off with a couple of minutes to go, but the Mollys held on for an excellent 13-8 victory.
We’ve clearly come a long way since our first encounter against Salmon Leap ended in a 13-17 defeat amongst much boo-hooing, and serious soul-searching. This was probably the first time we actually imposed our game upon them, and they had no response to our dictation of the pattern of play. They couldn’t break through our four man wall, without commiting more men forward, knowing that any f*ckup was going to result in the swiftest counterattack from our dangerous centre forwards.
Gareth took the referee’s Man of the Match award as the sharpest point of a shiny team star, with Leo’s blood-engorged bruised little toe running a close second. The result leaves the Mollys correctly in second place, with three wins (two of them by default) and one defeat, behind the likely division winners Buffalo Bills.
Final Score: 13-8
Goal Scorers: Gareth 6, Dave 5, Leo 1, Robbie 1
Man of the Match: Gareth
No comments:
Post a Comment