WON 5-3
Matt, Leo, Gareth2, Nathan, James1, Jason2
Thursday, 29 April 2010
Saturday, 10 April 2010
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.
Saturday, 3 April 2010
Gaffers Gob -1st April 2010
Celtenham FC lost 16-2
Matt (MOM), Alan, James (1), Mark, Gareth (1), Robbie
This will be a very short post today. This has to go down as the worst Mollies performance in the Gaffers living memory. No communication or tackling leading to a lack of shooting chances. It is a shame to have 3 wins in a row tarnished by such a poor all round display. The poorness of the defensive performance can be measured by the gaffer in goal being awarded man of the match honours despite letting in 16. Truly shocking stuff. nuff said!
Matt (MOM), Alan, James (1), Mark, Gareth (1), Robbie
This will be a very short post today. This has to go down as the worst Mollies performance in the Gaffers living memory. No communication or tackling leading to a lack of shooting chances. It is a shame to have 3 wins in a row tarnished by such a poor all round display. The poorness of the defensive performance can be measured by the gaffer in goal being awarded man of the match honours despite letting in 16. Truly shocking stuff. nuff said!
Thursday, 25 March 2010
Friday, 19 March 2010
Friday, 12 March 2010
Wednesday, 10 March 2010
Salmon Leap: An Incomplete History pt4
LOST 4-9
11/8/05 22:00 Match Nine vs Benfica Chicken Tikka
11/8/05 22:00 Match Nine vs Benfica Chicken Tikka
1.Matt 4.Nobby 5.Leo 6.Robbie 7.Dean (1) 10.Dave (1) 11.Steve (2)
LOST 0-8
18/8/05 18:30 Match Ten vs Buffalo Bills
LOST 3-16
25/8/05 21:00 Match Eleven vs Salmon Leap
1.Matt 4.Nobby 5.Leo 6.Robbie 7.Dean (2) 10.Dave 11.Steve (1)
♫ And all the wounds that are ever gonna scar me, for all the ghosts that are never gonna catch me, if I fall, if I fall ♫
Struggle to sleep as the conscious mind throws shapes. Slowly killed by a stress that seeps through the veins. Finding no rest as senseless dreams induce violent paralysis. Breathing hard as the chest crackles within. All ills can be medicated by the thrill of the win, the elation of rewarded skill, the charm of luck, and the glee of camaraderie. The psychosomatic therapy for the psychotic - the social event for the sociopath. I’m feeling real sick right now.
Fellow geeks will have deduced the high concept theme of this match report. I’ve written it three times in big letters above. It is what this team has become. On the pitch, in our heads. The fall from Grace. The race to Space. It’s easy to become. I guess the best way to describe the team at the moment is as a dispirited group of individuals, surviving a plane crash, castaway on an island, dumped into the middle of the Bermuda triangle, fighting polar bears beamed down by aliens, hiding dark secrets, fearful of the religious allegory of the invisible magical beast that tears down the trees*. The heavy-handed Lost metaphor hints at a greater truth. The sum of the parts never as great as the whole. Reluctant leaders, teenage runaway, injured deadweights, in. camp. traitor.
With a squad stripped to its bare knuckles for the last three weeks, the same array of seven would contest the above matches, with a paltry half a handful of players for match ten having to throw in the soiled towel of default defeat. PG-rated (Post Gareth) horror shows either side, contained plenty of gun shot residue but nary a close-up of a blood splattered bullet hole.
*****
The first match was lost on the weakness of our convictions. The first half against Benfica was a war of attrition, as their players laid siege to our goal, battering Matt like a Turkey Twizzler. He was throwing himself around his area as if possessed by the spirit of an epileptic frog (a crazy frog, if you will), confident the pounding his body was receiving would help firm up the loose flaps of skin, the by-product from all the weight he’s shed.
Man of the match, Matt kept the team in the game, as we hung on by the fingernails of one hand, as our undesignated strike force failed to do the required damage at the other end. Dave was drawing blanks from his forays down the left, while Leo was raining shots from the right wing, running onto through balls, but caning only a quarter of them on target.
In the end, it was our set pieces that ticked the required box. But don’t get too excited. Both set plays couldn’t have been any closer to the goal, without actually being in the goal. Firstly, a penalty, handled with responsibility, by Dean, in the absence of our star striker, lifting his shot into the goal’s right hand side, for the easiest of goals. Secondly, a beautifully placed free kick by Steve, sweetly curved through the gap of the two-man wall, with a right foot that can quite literally open a tin of spaghetti hoops. Incredibly handy when sucking mush through a straw is the best you can manage nowadays.
Leashing our opponents down to a 2-2 draw at half time was a brilliant achievement, when there was no let up in their attacks. We couldn’t hold up the ball in their half, even if we’d been allowed to use our hands. Unfortunately, in the second half, we just couldn’t sustain the energy, and found our positioning off skew. We couldn’t tread water forever.
Dave dropped back deep in order to pick up the ball facing the right way, leaving Nobby upfront as the long ball target, and Dean running mindlessly around a very fractured team shape. Nobby continued to play with his back to goal, laying the ball off to the forward runners with the firmness of warm butter. Despite further goals from Dave and Steve, we were losing the battle for the ricocheting ball in the middle of the pitch, and we were getting ruthlessly counter-attacked with two-pass manoeuvres from keeper to striker, reminiscent of the way Division One teams used to tear us apart. The combined defensive acumen of Robbie and Matt was not enough to prevent further smash and grabs, and a final deficit of 4-9.
*****
The second match was lost on the authority of the Gaffa and by circumstances beyond control. Despite the early kick-off time, a number of withdrawals or unavailabilities meant the squad could only boast a team of three players, and Jeff. Even allowing for the fact that those three players are the bedrock of The Molly Maguires defence, even bypassing the inequality of the Bills possessing more players, the prospect of Robbie and Leo blocking shots in front of Matt for 50 minutes, while they wonder where Jeff’s disappeared to, was only appealing if ..…if….., no wait, I can’t think of anything worse.
No great loss to concede defeat against the top team, who would’ve hammered us by more goals anyway, and we saved the kitty money for the inevitable curry forward slash drinking end of era blowout.
*****
The third match was lost on sheer inability. Don’s attendance (sans son) as cheerleader was exceptionally heartening, but if he was looking to report back from his scouting mission about the attractions of re-signing for the team, we may well have seen the last of his boy wonder, a long time after he first dazzled many of us with his frightening skill in the narrow sports hall of the Institute or on the double wide badminton courts of St Marys.
Again the limitations of availability ensured the team that took to the field against Salmon Leap was the same unbalanced, shot shy, paceless, leaderless, luckless, deathly quiet team that had failed two weeks previously. The blood, sweat, guts and jeers of the cookie-munching forgotten man Jon, has been much missed this season - the necessary link-up man for Dave and Gareth, the ear-bashing potty-mouthed midfield general for the rest of us.
We could continue to wallow in the dirty bathwater of the absentees or the could’ve beens, but some players did turn out for the team, continuing to show the same kind of hopeless, futile loyalty that gets suicide bombers killed.
Upon arrival at the match, Dean was immediately keen to let everyone know about the lucky ‘undercrackers’ he was wearing – a black, tight trunk number, supportive and soft on the skin, from the pioneers of quality undergarments, Marks and Spencer. Such psycho-illogical superstitions are at the core of the Molly team’s existence, from the required choice of starting ends, to the curse of pitch one. Unfortunately Dean’s nether regions are about as interesting as it got for this match (and surprisingly mentioned at least half a dozen times throughout the history of my match reports…).
The same unresolved problems in the Molly team’s shape and design meant ball possession was 9/10ths of the Leap’s. We hassled and harried, but the speed and passing movement from the opposition, from the off, just destroyed us. They had the fitness to pass the ball, and move for the return, scything their way through our outfield, embarrassing our keeper with long range bloomers, that Matt made look good with ineffectual reaction times.
In the outfield, no-one took any responsibility for forward movement, we were static and standoff-ish, coaxed into rash and rubbish tackles that failed to connect. Their players easily held us off, blocking our path to the ball, while laying passes off to the runners. We paid them too much respect - Leo, a huge culprit of not sticking his boot in. With Dave giving up the ghost up front, the burden of the team’s expectations finally taking its toil on the shoulders of our father figure, Nobby and Dean had to try to be the aggressors against a comfortable defence playing their way through us, down the wings.
With Leo again denied his favourite position as sweeper, instead having to make up the numbers up front, playing with his back to goal, his shooting was almost accurate, but incredibly weak. Only Steve managed a decent arrowing shot to give us a first half goal, but our passing was found wanting. HARDER, FASTER, FIRMER passing was required to slip it past the speedy opposition. The Molly defence was going to pot, Robbie surely wishing to forget this performance as quickly as the opposition danced around him. Our shots ratio barely hit double figures, but at least Dean’s lucky pants appeared to be working, as he snuck two good plants past the keeper in the second half after nominal work from Nobby, clearly now a burnt out supernova this season.
The referee was intent on ensuring his favourite team (not us) won this match comfortably, and even took time out to chat to his ugly missus, and say good night to his cute kid (two negatives do make a positive), whilst awarding a penalty and other debatable decisions against us. The game ended with a harrowing 3-16 defeat that effectively crushed many a will to play, losing us much impetus to finish this season with some winning pride.
Four straight defeats, all without the tag-team pairing of Dave and Gareth upfront, has meant the team must surely be floundering about in the drop zone, in the final season before an enforced hiatus due to players’ more important commitments. On a recent excursion out, I received a number of questions about how the Mollys were getting on, from women no less (that’s right, they talk to me sometimes), and had to break it to them that the team was being disbanded, as I choked back the tears, and they cooed in sympathy. To be forever associated in the public consciousness with The Molly Maguires is surely the ultimate epitaph. One of them did go so far as to quiz me about my defensive heading skills. In a five-a-side match? But she was a Saints fan after all, so perhaps couldn’t be helped.
Three games left to maintain the legacy of The Molly Maguires. Three games left to find what once was lost.
Salmon Leap: An Incomplete History pt3
07/07/05 22:00: Match Four vs Salmon Leap
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?”
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
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
Salmon Leap: An Incomplete History pt2
"Keep Your Arms Down Blue"
Reserve Match Report (by Nobby Rau)
Molly Maguires vs Salmon Leap
Match Report - Thursday 28th April 2005 - Kick off 9pm
“You’re too shy, shy, hush eye to eye” sang Kajagoogoo and Mollys faced the start of the game this week a couple of men short as reading the teamsheet managed to get the better of a few of the squad for the second time this season. A timely appearance by the old Stanley Matthews, in the form of Don meant we could field a solitary sub, which was always going to be handy against Salmon Leap. Rainy, blustery conditions put pay to any good intentions that other potential subs may have had.
Leap were full of themselves as we prepared to kick off, perhaps forgetting the close opening match of the season – and Mollys set the early pace playing some well organised incisive football – taking the lead with a smartly taken own goal following pressure from Nobby. Gareth was our obvious outlet from the start, beating his marker time after time throughout the game, and his early goals helped create an early 3-1 lead to the obvious annoyance of Salmon Leap and their entourage.
The first half saw Mollys work their socks off to contain the skilful Leap players. Leo proving a more than capable keeper, not only making the spectacular saves, but showing good positioning sense to stop the horrible soft goals we hate so much. Don put in some crunching tackles – sometimes standing on the ball and pushing their players away. We were later to hear that a swiftly delivered elbow was retribution for an earlier effort to take the Kitman out of the game, but it wasn’t a great surprise having seen Don virtually wrestle a Leap attacker to the ground on the stroke of half time. Steve was similarly vexing the opposition, showing a growing range of skills (sometimes a little too close to our goal for comfort)
The second half started with Mollys in the lead which seemed to be closing from the start. Salmon Leap bagged a cluster of goals, with Mollys mustering a goal here and there through Gareth – but whilst it felt as if we were being overrun Mollys maintained a narrow lead as the game was reaching its end. This was greatly helped by a fortunate sin binning for swearing at the ref with Mollys making the extra man count for once, to score a couple of goals. The composure on the ball in the four minute period was in stark contrast to the usual shambles in these situations. Don was unlucky to see a shot worthy of Hotshot Hamish thump the wall inches past the post
The controversial zonal marking system held up well until the final few minutes, when Leap pressure finally paid off and an 8-6 lead was overturned. Leo’s good goalkeeping sense deserted him on a couple of occasions under a fierce barrage – gifting a couple of goals with some poor distribution, one of which was literally thrown to Leap player closest to the goal. Another shot struck the backboard and bounced agonisingly out of Leo’s reach to be tucked away from the edge of the D and as the ball fizzed around our half it seemed as if every attack would end in our goal.
In the end a sterling performance was let down by sheer exhaustion as Salmon Leap made their fitness (and full compliment of subs) count.
Man of the Match – Gareth
Final Score 8 – 10
Dean (1), Don, Gareth (6), Leo, Nobby, Steve. Own goals (1)
Reserve Match Report (by Nobby Rau)
Molly Maguires vs Salmon Leap
Match Report - Thursday 28th April 2005 - Kick off 9pm
“You’re too shy, shy, hush eye to eye” sang Kajagoogoo and Mollys faced the start of the game this week a couple of men short as reading the teamsheet managed to get the better of a few of the squad for the second time this season. A timely appearance by the old Stanley Matthews, in the form of Don meant we could field a solitary sub, which was always going to be handy against Salmon Leap. Rainy, blustery conditions put pay to any good intentions that other potential subs may have had.
Leap were full of themselves as we prepared to kick off, perhaps forgetting the close opening match of the season – and Mollys set the early pace playing some well organised incisive football – taking the lead with a smartly taken own goal following pressure from Nobby. Gareth was our obvious outlet from the start, beating his marker time after time throughout the game, and his early goals helped create an early 3-1 lead to the obvious annoyance of Salmon Leap and their entourage.
The first half saw Mollys work their socks off to contain the skilful Leap players. Leo proving a more than capable keeper, not only making the spectacular saves, but showing good positioning sense to stop the horrible soft goals we hate so much. Don put in some crunching tackles – sometimes standing on the ball and pushing their players away. We were later to hear that a swiftly delivered elbow was retribution for an earlier effort to take the Kitman out of the game, but it wasn’t a great surprise having seen Don virtually wrestle a Leap attacker to the ground on the stroke of half time. Steve was similarly vexing the opposition, showing a growing range of skills (sometimes a little too close to our goal for comfort)
The second half started with Mollys in the lead which seemed to be closing from the start. Salmon Leap bagged a cluster of goals, with Mollys mustering a goal here and there through Gareth – but whilst it felt as if we were being overrun Mollys maintained a narrow lead as the game was reaching its end. This was greatly helped by a fortunate sin binning for swearing at the ref with Mollys making the extra man count for once, to score a couple of goals. The composure on the ball in the four minute period was in stark contrast to the usual shambles in these situations. Don was unlucky to see a shot worthy of Hotshot Hamish thump the wall inches past the post
The controversial zonal marking system held up well until the final few minutes, when Leap pressure finally paid off and an 8-6 lead was overturned. Leo’s good goalkeeping sense deserted him on a couple of occasions under a fierce barrage – gifting a couple of goals with some poor distribution, one of which was literally thrown to Leap player closest to the goal. Another shot struck the backboard and bounced agonisingly out of Leo’s reach to be tucked away from the edge of the D and as the ball fizzed around our half it seemed as if every attack would end in our goal.
In the end a sterling performance was let down by sheer exhaustion as Salmon Leap made their fitness (and full compliment of subs) count.
Man of the Match – Gareth
Final Score 8 – 10
Dean (1), Don, Gareth (6), Leo, Nobby, Steve. Own goals (1)
Salmon Leap: An Incomplete History pt1
HEAR ME ROAR
REGULAR COLUMNIST LUNGBOY SUCKS ON ANOTHER BREATHLESS PERFORMANCE
Date and Time: 20/1/05 6.30pm
Opponents: Salmon Leap
Line-up: Matt, Robbie, Leo, Nobby, Jon, Dave, Gareth, Steve
From the sublime to the substandard, the Mollys have performed with their usual inconsistent inconsistency throughout the first half of the season. Good solid defensive victories trade fluids with luck deficient defeats. Teams beaten last season now have the better of the Mollys. The defenders are outscoring the midfielders. Newbies Matt and Steve have firmly established themselves in the team, while veterans Pete and Dean rarely have the opportunity to break sweat.
REGULAR COLUMNIST LUNGBOY SUCKS ON ANOTHER BREATHLESS PERFORMANCE
Date and Time: 20/1/05 6.30pm
Opponents: Salmon Leap
Line-up: Matt, Robbie, Leo, Nobby, Jon, Dave, Gareth, Steve
From the sublime to the substandard, the Mollys have performed with their usual inconsistent inconsistency throughout the first half of the season. Good solid defensive victories trade fluids with luck deficient defeats. Teams beaten last season now have the better of the Mollys. The defenders are outscoring the midfielders. Newbies Matt and Steve have firmly established themselves in the team, while veterans Pete and Dean rarely have the opportunity to break sweat.
Mulling through the tabloid back pages this week, fans would’ve been hit with all sorts of news. Ian, fourth choice keeper (behind Matt, Leo and a cardboard cut-out of Roy Carroll), frustrated at the lack of first team action, submitted his transfer request. In response, the management maintained a suspicious silence. Rumours continued unabated that Robbie had been caught in the act, munching on a female colleague’s “fudge”. The publicity machine for The Mollys vs The Mollyettes started to chug into life. And most shocking of all, the Gaffa has been reported metaphorically raising his voice to curb dissent in the ranks, with a team e-mail being anonymously leaked to the press.
The team started the second half of the season in 4th place, and the Gaffa announced an unchanged line-up for the first time in their history. Last week’s winning 8 would be entrusted to secure the points, under the threat of rotational jigging to come for the rest of the season.
Unhinged carnage. Absolute bedlam. Never in all my months of watching this team have I seen such a seat-of-my-pants goalfest ding-dong. Sure, the Mollys have been on the end of more one-sided tonkings than I’ve had three-way bonkings. But to be eclipsed by four goals in a 30 goal melee, reeks of random. An unnatural match, where goals were traded with superficial regularity, and the Mollys’ team shape spasmed beyond discernable control.
The match began as every recent match has begun, with ``the Mollys doing their level best to make life difficult for themselves. The starting five need to realise the advantage to be had from protecting and extending a lead, rather than playing catch-up. To impose the Molly way of play early on, to breed confidence in the players to be comfortable on the ball and play at their own pace. A mantra readily adopted by Steve, who kept teasing me to take the chalk out of my pocket and draw a line around his corpse, just before he twitches back to life.
Dwelling on the negative aspects would be very much against the spirit of the newly inscribed Five Commandments, but performing an autopsy on this match requires a brief groping around the internal workings of Molly’s desecrated body. Poor distribution from defence and keeper, lack of speed from the midfield, and slapdish shooting from the front all blended together to create a gooey mush.
Very much a mirror image of the Mollys, the Leap always threatened to take the ball from one end of the pitch to the other with the minimal of passing, but often the Mollys midfield failed to keep pace with their more sophisticated counterparts. This left the defence dealing inadequately with strikers running straight at them, who possessed enough individual skill to create space, to crack shots beyond Matt.
Up front, Dave embarked on a one-man vendetta against the back wall behind the opposition’s goal, and Gareth tried to defy conventional mathematical physics theory with shots at 179-degree angles. In defence, Matt felt the need to make as many new friends as possible by throwing the ball to the opposition; Robbie, was drunk on his own over inflated ability to pass long range, and Leo gave away needless freekicks by failing to maintain his feet, and tackling whilst on the ground. Too spread out, the midfield dynamic frequently found themselves isolated - Nobby tackling men who’d already passed him, and Jon unusually unpenetrative.
General consensus from fellow supporters I’ve spoken to is of the half-full “it was close” or “you scored a lot of goals” variety. No incisive comments about the leaking catheter of defensive lifeblood. A lack of shape, and lack of decent marking always gave the edge to the opposition. At one point, Matt was trying to throw the ball out of his area with two strikers on the edge of his D trying to intercept. Where were our players? Did we capitalise?
Whatever else can be said about our shortcomings, there was still much to praise about the performance. Dave, for all his bomb and bluster, was going to hit the net at some point, and weighed in with a record-equalling 7 goals, to help keep the pressure on the Leap right to the final whistle. Gareth and Steve continued their fine scoring form, and Jon snatched an opportunistic long range goal one touch from kickoff. All this goal scoring finally saw the Mollys crack open the skull of double figures for the first time this season, with Nobby impressively scooping out two fistfuls as the Mollys injected thirteen goals in reply (not fourteen, as the ref incorrectly counted).
Other lights (whether high or low is debatable) included Leo sitting out the last few minutes of the first half warming up his smacked up sausage and spuds. Don and Jon getting a tongue lashing from the ref incensed that Jon, frustrated at failure, had walked off the pitch, to be subbed, while the ball was still in play. Jon’s half-time team talk, aside from the “It’s good to talk” message, also threatened to be a heart-wrenching apology for all his meanie shouting at the team.
The vice-captain’s post-match press conference was equally heartstring stirring, as he praised the team’s overall effort and commitment, and singled out the performance of the team towards the end of each half, as they never gave up against the odds. Pass the tissues, I need to dry my eyes.
With the Gaffa’s recent vitriol slowly sinking in, Molly supporters can look forward to watching a team rebuilt on camaraderie, spirit, effort and fun. A back to basics approach to playing competitive football for laughs, yet still with an underlying desire to win, but not at all costs.
Final Score: 13-17
Goal Scorers: Gareth 2, Jon 1, Steve 1, Dave 7, Nobby 2
Man of the Match: Dave
In the Dressing Room
The Mollys’ veteran midfielder, Nobby Rau, writes exclusively for Good Golly, to expose the “behind the scenes” secrets of your favourite team.
“Just got home from tonight’s game against Salmon Leap. Currently sitting on the loo having a poo, but I just had to write everything into my laptop while its still fresh in my head. We lost 13-17. We played two halves. I scored two goals. Other players scored some goals too. We’re a handsome team, and we wore our blue kit. The opposition wore a white kit. Just like Rangers versus Real Madrid! We had a drink in the bar afterwards. I had an orange juice and lemonade. Then Jon went home. Then Robbie cycled home, wearing his helmet. Then Dave finished changing after his shower. Then Leo went home. Then the rest of us went home. Sitting here on the loo reminds me of the time Johnny dropped a book he borrowed from me down his toilet. He said he was getting up so he could wipe from both ends.”
Next Week: Nobby’s Scoring Masterclass part 1 of 24
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