5:2 Stratten FC 17/6/10 8.30pm

Won 8-7

Matt, Leo, Gareth, Nathan, AnotherMatt, Ginge

Yeah, it's been a fair few weeks since Leo and I returned from Japan. We had a swell time visiting Americatown, battling robo-geishas, and drinking curry from a can. The inevitable return to Britain was as unwelcome as a racist English flag billowing from council estate balconies, under some bullshit jingoism disguised as patrotism. What exactly have we to be proud of in this country? Britain's got talent? Yeah, for cackhanded coalition governments, prostitute serial killers, and meter-running mass murderers.

Still, no-one will give a toss about anything else but football, till England's inevitable knockout on penalties in the second round. Bet on Lampard fluffing a third in a row.

In Mollyland, its all change again, with more setbacks than tiny Theo getting shafted on his mobile phone, whilst playing 9 holes of mini-golf. The windmill is the closest he'll get to propellers. Our personnel decimated in a flurry of activity that saw bionic Steve finally dip below the threshold of sustainability - hip, thigh, knee, ankle, arm all jipped to the point of almost no return. Alan suffered further twinges of his ankles or ribs or something, that saw a brief cameo comeback before mistress football was finally given the boot by his good lady wife. Alan still had time to upset Jason by wildly suggesting that the boy wonder should use his phenom shooting skills to smash goalwards, rather than charitably fudging a return pass to a less than mobile teammate. With Jason subsequently nowhere to return, and Robbie Shirkington doing what it says on the tum, the squad lost four players in a big swoop. Add in Richard's need for business time on a Thursday evening, and the team has had to draft in at least three ringers, of which one, AnotherMatt has taken up permanent residence.

Two weeks into the new season, and some semblance of order is being restored to what has otherwise a chaotic few months.

Matt's exploration of alternative venues for the sake of saving some coinage failed to materialise anything noteworthy with JD Fives, Pitch Invasion and their ilk, all of a monetary muchness or inconveniently dayed. So we were stuck with playing in the same overly aggressive league, reffed by incompetent cowards. It was no surprise to find us on the end of a slightly unjustified defeat last week against Carson FC (formerly Celtenham FC - seriously who gives a damn about your name change?) with Terry Thomas bottling the important call to reduce then to 4, after Nathan got some slap and tickle from their small man syndromed small man.

Our poor marking, lack of cover backing, and some really poor choices to run straight into a tackle found us trying to catch up against a team, who possessed the odd player or three who could grip the ball with their toes, and drive beyond our defence. Matt's useless non-diving didn't assist either. At least with the sun in full bloom, we can expect more of Don of old, to come out and wind up the opposition, berate the ref, and renew some much missed catchphrases.

This week Nathan managed not to incite anyone to flail their arms at him in wild gesticulation for a forcible studs-up backside-in challenge. Gareth impressed the ref enough with some sterling ball work to put Aaron Lennon to shame, winning the MOM award. Leo continues to grab his one obligatory goal a game, from hanging off the D positions, and AnotherMatt manages only to score in the opposition net for a welcome change. Throw in another ringer, Ginge - a bulky, shaven Butterbean lookalike - a minority of brickhouse mass not seen since the inaugral days of Mike, and the team put in a show of devastating finishing, hapless shennanigans, and then steely resolve, to pip Stratten FC by 8 goals to 7.

Stratten FC are the current benchmark for our team. They are poorer in every department to us - comfort on ball, power of shots, incisiveness of passing, yet we've contrived in the past to run through the entire spectrum of draws, defeats and wins, depending on whether it was James' time of the month, or Matt's being blinded by the sun/floodlights/eyelids closed, failing to extract the ball away from his far posts.

Today we started with a useful verve, finishing the first half 6-2 to the good. A flobby penalty was dispatched by Nathan with his usual precision, only following the obligatory discussion with the ref about whether he was too far away to strike the ball with one step, and then putting his right foot in, his right foot out, as he teased the keeper before slotting home.

At the back, AnotherMatt was seemingly holding the fort, but with an ambitious drive to plow forward all the time, that puts the team formation into a blender without the lid on, and spew our players all over the place, with Leo and Ginge often found up top, whilst Gareth and Nathan hung back quarterback.

Good interchange from the forwards, smash n' grabs down the wing, charging behemoths through the middle, some defensively sound blocking, and winning the majority of 50-50 balls, duly saw us dominate the first half.

The second half was a crock of crock, with Matt cancelling out his precision long throw assist to Leo, with another similarly precise throw direct to the oppositions' feet, who didn't return the favour, and hit it back to Matt where he couldn't reach it. Throw in (as Matt did) an innocuous rebound off his head that looped into the air, and came down at a one degree angle into the goal, and the fact that Matt only jambalanied seven goals is testament to something. Probably the oppositions' mediocre shooting.

We got lazy - not so much in effort, as in thought - Gareth's long range from kick-off shooting was atrocious, and Natahn's attempts to score from angles tighter than a dormouse's arsehole saw shots flying into the back board like the dirty offspring of Lampard, as we got pinned back, and almost mugged of our victory. Where's James' unmarking goalhanging when you need it? It was a nervous finish, losing the ball with regularity, and letting sloppy passes get punished with the simplest of exposures of Matt.

Still, can't deny the victory that kept us in the hunt for the Champions League places again this season, was sweet. Only a scintillating thrashing of Algeria by the homeland at the World Cup could top off a fine week.... Hmm, perhaps Rooney will end up in that caravan after all.

With the other important tournament of 2010 mere weeks away, Leo and Matt are slowly coming into form, whilst the likes of Alan, Robbie and Richard need to re-pick up the pace sharpish to have any hope of making the final squad. And none of them are comparable to Walcott's girlfirends' bulbous nose, and even that's done more runnng lately. Even Steve is dreaming of a late July comeback. And dreaming means you're still alive, and not dead in your sleep. Die with your boots on, they say. Did Afghanistan qualify for the World Cup?

4:12 Celtenham FC; 4:13 Stratten FC; 4:14 Thatcher FC

vs Celtenham FC 20/5/10
WON 9-8
Matt, Leo, Nathan, James, Gareth, AnotherMatt

vs Stratten FC 27/5/10
LOST 11-5
Matt, Leo, Nathan, James, Gareth, AnotherMatt

vs Thatcher FC 3/6/10
WON 12-6
Matt, Leo, Nathan, Gareth, Another Matt, Dave

Gaffers Gob 8th April – Stratten FC – Won 13-7

Matt, Alan (1), Gareth (2), Jason (5), James (5 MOM)

Well what a difference a week makes. The horrors of last weeks performance have been put to the back of the mind with what has been roundly as the best game the Mollies have ever played in. Those with long memories and service would pitch it around the level of our 10-1 win over Park FC in about 2006. Yes we were that good. The match saw the thumb printed Robbie making himself unavailable leaving us with 4 players and begging Jason to fill the void. With only 5 players the Gaffer was wondering if the law of the sod would mean that he would have to end up on pitch as one of our outfield players had to go in goal through injury. But, alas his dreams of scoring a Thursday night hat-trick have again been neatly sidestepped by fate.

So to the match, and an action packed, event filled goal fest it was with seemingly both teams avoiding defensive duties to have as many shots in as short a time as possible. Still, at least the Gaffer was able to help Stratten by letting their very first shot go through both his gloves and then legs. An inauspicious start indeed. But this was not the lowest point of the Gaffers woes with the second half finding him completely misfielding a throw out to toss it gently to a waiting Stratten forward who would fire it into the back of the net.

However, the depths of the Gaffers errors only served to heighten to seeming calm and fluidity of the (unusually) young Mollies outfield who were frequently slowing the game down and passing it to each other in all areas of the pitch. The introduction of Jason seemed to take the playmaking pressure from Gareth and gave him an extra lease of life and freedom to create chances up front and defend in depth. Alan was his muscular self running up and down the pitch and shooting as best he can. Although he scored one goal, it would appear that he was actually aiming for a raking pass to the corner and miss hit it to go in. James was chuffed to bits to be given his MOM award, benefiting from the space given to him by the running of Jason and Gareth so that he scored as many goals as I can remember in a match. And the Gaffer made up for his earlier errors to save a penalty with his toe after being sent the wrong way by the striker.

All round, I may as well retire as I can’t see us playing so well again. And the Mollies have seemingly nailed themselves into third place in the league.

3:8 (second attempt) Stratten FC 25/2/10 7.00pm

WON 11-6

Leo, James2, Gareth2, Nathan2, Jason3. And Alan2.

After last week's ignominious defeat - a 10-0 first half capitulation, coupled with a 3-3 second half respectability - the recriminations and remunations of our p**s poor first half performance could be levelled at a lack of effort, lack of fight, lack of spirit, and Robbie getting turned over more times than pancake batter on Shrove Tuesday. Gareth was losing the ball in stupid places; James was signposting his shots and hitting the first defender; Alan was striking the ball with the power of a powderpuff; Leo was performing mop up duties like a wet flannel; and Robbie was apparently on the pitch somewhere.

It all led to a shocking semi-cricled stand-off at half-time with everyone but Robbie seemingly to blame. Matt was animated like a man waking from a coma "What year is this?". Leo needed to shake the lethargy, and get his head out of his hands, and our attackers needed to get their proverbial s&&t together. Our personal pride seemed to get the better of us though, and we didn't get whitewashed, nor did we concede into the 20s, so well done us.

This week saw an extraordinary line-up of Molly players for this re-arranged from the snow fallout fixture. The lack of Matt, moving house (I could've sworn he lived on a wall) was a real disadvantage to the side. Because there's no better time to move stuff around then in the darkness of seven pm, and then perhaps catch a netball match afterwards, before partaking in a 2-4-1 cinema deal.The loss of Richard and Steve to holidays abroad would be felt too, as it left the only qualified defender, Leo, manning the space between the sticks, and our outfield line-up bursting with too much sickly attacking goodness. And Alan.

With James, Nathan (who despite having a 'hormonal' partner back home managed to come play), Gareth and Jason. And Alan all in the side, this was going to be the mother of all ding-dongs. Who could attack more? Who could pass better? Harken back to the Ossie manager days of Tottenham, when a five man attack was the only form of defence. At least Leo would have options for throwouts, if he didn't have to constantly pick it out of the back of the net.

Father figure And Alan had instilled some discipline into the side, and the team would rotate their defensive responsibilities with their lust for shooting, scoring and dribbling through an opposition side equally as youthy. It didn't start according to plan, as Leo got wrong-footed by a weak deflected shot, and then a dragged shot into the far-corner as the Mollys went 2 down relatively early. However, temprorary gaffer Leo was actually unphased, because sooner or later, the young hard bodies (And Alan) in front of him would have to stop poncing about, and do some damage to the opposition net. And boy did that happen. Leo kept his end of the bargain by flinging himself all over the D to frustrate a consistent Stratten attack, and allowed the symphony of destruction to flow through his conducting.

Everyone in the outfield was comfortable on the ball. It showed that these guys had played with each other before. The passing was crisp, the touches were deft, the movement ball-sucking, as the opposition got dragged out of position, and the shots rained in on their keeper from angles all over the shop. Thankfully with this bunch of archetypal glory-baggers, the shooting, after a initial flurry of up and overs, calmed down, and was never gratuitous. The boys, And Alan, played the better pass, rather than take the extraneous shot, and we reigned the opposition in, like Tess Daly reigns in her sextextpest husband.

For all the flashy footwork, it was the directness of And Alan on the left, and the continued tracking back of the outfield, that constantly occupied the opposition, tackles went in hard and safe, and rarely did Stratten have a free run at goal. Leo was offered more choice than Tiger, to throw the ball out alarmingly quick, either short to the likes of Jason, mid-range to Gareth or Nathan, or further afield to And Alan and James. You couldn't accuse any of our players of not covering sufficient ground, as every attack halted by Leo, resulted in an equally swift rebuke, as the opposition were kept on the toes, and hurtling back toward their own goal line.

The first half finished with the Mollys 6-4 up, which would've surprised a few naysayers, but the pitch 5 graveyard was holding no curse. It wasn't all perfect - Nathan's shooting from long-range was guff, and just dragged play back into our own half. And James missed at least three sitters when presented with the opportunity to smash the ball anywhere but straight at an exposed keeper. And some of our more fanciful moves particularly ambitious long cross field balls through the heart of the pitch got snuffed out.

Second half we dominated. We were totally up them. They may have hit the cross bar a couple of times, but that was a result of exceptional positional defending by our keeper, and it was the very top of the bar. The opposition became frustrated, and they clearly developed a sense of tiredness, as Gareth rallied the troops to continue to whip them red raw despite us being 3 or 4 goals to the good at the time. Mercy is clearly for the weak. Nathan continued to laugh off challenges from little midgets, and Gareth and Jason combined with some superb twitch wingplay. It was just as well the outfield were all wearing different variations of blue, as it would've been hard to distinguish them based on skill and passing alone, as all rose to the challenge. Even And Alan. The white sleeves of Jason, the yellow shoulders of Nathan, the white sash of James, allowed Leo to call out names, throw the ball tight to their feet, and then hurriedly shout out "Manon" as the opposition attempted to smother the threat.

We did concede two in the second half, but only after Leo had fallen awake after ten minutes of daydreaming of a second half clean sheet. Nathan attempting a long pass from his own corner, ruthlessly intercepted and smashed home, and a short pass, after Leo had triple saved a close range shot/spike/chip, which spilled away to another Stratten player. One could only imagine the Stratten players wondering why they'd been hit with a tidal wave of such attacking magnitude, but were probably saying in the bar afterwards how "their keeper kept them in it". Sure we were operating a tight and fine line, with passes flashing in front of Leo's D with alarming regularity, but once suckered in for a teasing turnover, we then punished them with relentless breaks through their backline.

Jason rounded off the scoring with a perfect flying groundless volley from so far back, even Leo could've reached out and touched it, and a superb high impact team effort ended with a nothing less than fully deserved 11-6 victory over the team just above us in the league. Even Don had a grin on his face, having watched the match through the bar window, thankfully not pulling his hernia prising himself up onto a high stool.

So we traipsed into the bar for our free £30 worth of booze to celebrate our win, and throughly enjoyed a couple of rounds - in fact owing them £2.30, on a tab with Matt's name on it. Someone on our team got the MOTM award, and free beer, but it wasn't our superb keeper, so it didn't mean jack. Leo said it would be great to text our absent gaffer with the result to show he wasn't missed, and should've been here defending his box instead of moving one. Gareth decided it would be fun to text Matt to tell him we actually kept a clean sheet, and won comfortably without him, and whilst a ridiculous 26-0 was considered and dropped, there was much to be said for Nathan's "an intense 1-0 victory" suggestion. In the end, 11-0 sounded plausible, despite the second choice keeper, and no dedicated defenders (although Robbie and Steve only barely qualify - one's more absent from his own half, the other from the pitch entirely), and Matt fell for it (heartfelt but gracious in his disappointment at not being the first to keep a Molly clean sheet).

We finished fourth at season's end, with five genuine victories, and with line-ups that fluctuated with diverse personnel, and that should hold the expanded squad in good stead to drive forward next season, and get one of those little silver stars next to our name, like wot they do on Call of Duty: Modern Warfare. Or in Matt's case, Call of Duty: Moving Wardrobe.