Another sunny day.
A well crafted and in the end a comfortable victory. The pitch was most un-Sandy like and I think the game was enjoyable. The Sandy mittens have been buried. We don't often have a goalkeeper up there but this time we did and it paid off.
With a bare eleven we outfought and outplayed them. Matt was called into labour at 9 o'clock so had a reasonable-ish excuse for crying off.
Everyone played well and particularly in the first half we closed them down well and seemed first to all 50-50's and deservedly turned round 2-0 up. The real Gavin turned up and was scintillatingly fleet footed, soon giving rise to charges that he was only 20 something. Such a joy for me to quietly put Lil F in his place. "No old chap he is 35 yet I notice your two youngsters in their 20's haven't got the stomach for the fray!" Much better than, "ah fuck off yer cunt" certainly intellectually more satisfying, must remember that.
First goal Mark, deep on the left touchline, spotted the blur that was Gavin on the top right wing and a lovely flighted ball saw G take it in his stride, bamboozle the keeper and score. There was some doubt about the second, a Roy header from a corner gently chaperoned over the line by Gavin. The exultant Roy left noone in any doubt as to the owner of the goal, as he strode back to his position.
Steve Bull, labouring with a bad back, took a ball against none other than Lil F, flicked it over his head and finished with an exquisite chip that cleared the bar by a gnat's whisker.
Second half we remained in command and were really surprising them. Deep right Bully looked up and saw his fellow forward peeling off the back men. A lovely cross took out both central defenders and a diving header saw old man river nut home in delight, 3-0. Shortly afterwards Chris Wilson broke up their possession and burst through into the penalty area but sidefooted it wide with keeper beaten, hard luck, much discussion in pub.
They came back into it with two goals one a good one and one somewhat dodgily defended. John Boyle made an excellent clearance off the line before we got our fourth. A Mark corner found a totally unmarked Brendan, farpost. He headed into the melee where good old Gavin extricated his feet from his arse before gently rolling the ball over the line. His hattrick- no says Roy.
A deep crossfield ball from Bully saw Mark running into space, rounding the keeper and sliding home the fifth. Gavin could have helped that one on its way too but he's not that mischievous.
The referee did well apart from missing a diabolical push on 'old man' as he was about to notch his second header. It was laughing Joe the Eyetie wot done it. We parted friends (cunt) it was that sort of game.
The last of the summer sun was spent in a beer garden before we dispersed. John and Gavin to the Station to watch Spurs cement their place at the bottom, holding up mighty Newcastle. Now that takes some doing.
Roland
Goodbye Sir Ronald
Quack quack
Monday 29 September 2008
Monday 22 September 2008
Welwyn Pegasus 4 Knobs 2
A sunny day ,
Not very satisfactory organisation wise. Not my fault. Having arranged the game months ago, having confirmed it Monday afternoon I was told they were struggling to get a team out, don't worry we'll lend you a player. He promised to confirm Tuesday. I phoned him Thursday, oh he forgot, sorry, yes game on. Oh but it's 2 pm ko, a bit of a change from Monday!
No-one was unduly affected by this in our set up- I don't think.
11am Sunday morning, Andrew phones. Problem no referee, will I do it? There goes my game. Yes. Oh and there are no changing rooms. Great but it's a sunny day and perhaps our bollocks and arseholes need a good airing. Oh and I won't be there says Andrew, better things to do, no doubt, than bollock airing on a balmy Sunday- Man U v Chelsea on the TV, Ryder Cup and possibly a soupcon of shagging! (where's that cedilla? Got yiz there!).
Anyway we proceeded to the game on the vast acres of Monk Walk school playing fields in Welwyn. They had 13 players, and I had agreed to referee, me who loves to play rendered an obsolete cipher with a whistle! Such is ageing but I'd given my word because none of them lot wanted to ref or didn't have the guts or the wind. You might gather by now I'm not a little pissed off. To add insult to injury and this is not an excuse for defeat or for any diminution of enjoyment to be gleaned from the game, after all we're all fortunate to be able to bend over and put shorts on at our ages, never mind run joyously through 90 minutes of lovely football, they fielded a few lads. When I say lads I don't mean lags. Put it this way, the father of two of them, in his forties, was playing right back for them. He must have sired them when he was 10! And they weren't just fit they were superfit, could play quite well and were motivated to do so and crush our ancient limbs into the dust. Little turds. You cannot compete with that , short of resorting to dubious equalising tactics and neither Jack Sinclair nor I were playing!
On to the game. We could have won and should have won so well done in many respects. Our approach play was incisive, sometimes excellent, especially first half but our finishing was unlucky and sometimes poor. In the second half when we scored our goals, again we played some good stuff but sometimes erred by being over elaborate and too pretty. We were always chasing the game by then and Chris Griffiths had his hands full at the back when everyone seemed hellbent on going forward. Trouble was an acreage developed between our defence and attack which their roll-on, roll- off youngsters exploited. Then again they only scored 4 , good finishes but in my opinion not that impressive a score. Steve Bull scored from an excellent snapshot and Gavin rifled in his first of the season from a sort of good move.
As referee I was taken to task when the ball was out of play, hoofed into the great green yonder, for stopping the watch. This by their ageing but not aged midfield player. The ball must have been 30 minutes out of play, usually slothfully brought back by their young keeper who presumably only recently learnt to walk. I was told I wasn't allowed to do that, stop the watch that is. Do what I fucking like besides I only have rudimentary knowledge of its workings- the difficult part is starting it again, don't you find? Anyway apart from the time added on being to the advantage of both sides in allowing 90 minutes play to take place, this geezer reinforced his view by putting me firmly in my place as he sid he was a fully qualified referee of 15 years experience. Well fuck me, I'm just a little runt or even a little c... with nothing better to do on a Sunday than trot meaninglessly around blowing a little whistle now and then. Why aren't you reffing your game I asked him in a reserved way, "you're doing a grand job", he retorted trotting off. That took the biscuit. I was pissed off and still am and am considering my position, again... I was offered 20 quid in the pub for reffing but I declined. Broke as I am I still have a smidgeon of pride.
The sandwiches and chips were plentiful in the pub not so the opposition, there was us and two of them. Pity!
Dave and missus and kids feasted on the banquet.
Roy sustained an injury, Bill pulled a hamstring, John Boyle is in pain but in denial and from last week Richard and Phil are injured, the latter long term.
To complete a wonderful day I got to take the kit.
Sandy next week away- good grub at least.
Am old enough to know better
Cry baby cry
Not very satisfactory organisation wise. Not my fault. Having arranged the game months ago, having confirmed it Monday afternoon I was told they were struggling to get a team out, don't worry we'll lend you a player. He promised to confirm Tuesday. I phoned him Thursday, oh he forgot, sorry, yes game on. Oh but it's 2 pm ko, a bit of a change from Monday!
No-one was unduly affected by this in our set up- I don't think.
11am Sunday morning, Andrew phones. Problem no referee, will I do it? There goes my game. Yes. Oh and there are no changing rooms. Great but it's a sunny day and perhaps our bollocks and arseholes need a good airing. Oh and I won't be there says Andrew, better things to do, no doubt, than bollock airing on a balmy Sunday- Man U v Chelsea on the TV, Ryder Cup and possibly a soupcon of shagging! (where's that cedilla? Got yiz there!).
Anyway we proceeded to the game on the vast acres of Monk Walk school playing fields in Welwyn. They had 13 players, and I had agreed to referee, me who loves to play rendered an obsolete cipher with a whistle! Such is ageing but I'd given my word because none of them lot wanted to ref or didn't have the guts or the wind. You might gather by now I'm not a little pissed off. To add insult to injury and this is not an excuse for defeat or for any diminution of enjoyment to be gleaned from the game, after all we're all fortunate to be able to bend over and put shorts on at our ages, never mind run joyously through 90 minutes of lovely football, they fielded a few lads. When I say lads I don't mean lags. Put it this way, the father of two of them, in his forties, was playing right back for them. He must have sired them when he was 10! And they weren't just fit they were superfit, could play quite well and were motivated to do so and crush our ancient limbs into the dust. Little turds. You cannot compete with that , short of resorting to dubious equalising tactics and neither Jack Sinclair nor I were playing!
On to the game. We could have won and should have won so well done in many respects. Our approach play was incisive, sometimes excellent, especially first half but our finishing was unlucky and sometimes poor. In the second half when we scored our goals, again we played some good stuff but sometimes erred by being over elaborate and too pretty. We were always chasing the game by then and Chris Griffiths had his hands full at the back when everyone seemed hellbent on going forward. Trouble was an acreage developed between our defence and attack which their roll-on, roll- off youngsters exploited. Then again they only scored 4 , good finishes but in my opinion not that impressive a score. Steve Bull scored from an excellent snapshot and Gavin rifled in his first of the season from a sort of good move.
As referee I was taken to task when the ball was out of play, hoofed into the great green yonder, for stopping the watch. This by their ageing but not aged midfield player. The ball must have been 30 minutes out of play, usually slothfully brought back by their young keeper who presumably only recently learnt to walk. I was told I wasn't allowed to do that, stop the watch that is. Do what I fucking like besides I only have rudimentary knowledge of its workings- the difficult part is starting it again, don't you find? Anyway apart from the time added on being to the advantage of both sides in allowing 90 minutes play to take place, this geezer reinforced his view by putting me firmly in my place as he sid he was a fully qualified referee of 15 years experience. Well fuck me, I'm just a little runt or even a little c... with nothing better to do on a Sunday than trot meaninglessly around blowing a little whistle now and then. Why aren't you reffing your game I asked him in a reserved way, "you're doing a grand job", he retorted trotting off. That took the biscuit. I was pissed off and still am and am considering my position, again... I was offered 20 quid in the pub for reffing but I declined. Broke as I am I still have a smidgeon of pride.
The sandwiches and chips were plentiful in the pub not so the opposition, there was us and two of them. Pity!
Dave and missus and kids feasted on the banquet.
Roy sustained an injury, Bill pulled a hamstring, John Boyle is in pain but in denial and from last week Richard and Phil are injured, the latter long term.
To complete a wonderful day I got to take the kit.
Sandy next week away- good grub at least.
Am old enough to know better
Cry baby cry
Monday 15 September 2008
Knobs 1 Ware 2
Bugger!
It was a lovely day and resplendent in new kit a competitive game was fought out against Ware. The only downside we lost!
Probably didn't deserve to lose even though not at our best. Injuries didn't really help but not a reason for defeat. As their keeper said we battered them, though we didn't score enough and they kept hitting us on the break where Alistair coped manfully with their only forward, a black Gavin!!
They held a half time lead by virtue of one of their rare attacks before a lovely back to front move saw us equalise with an excellent headed goal from Mike.
The second half saw us finding out the difficulties of beating down a defence with 9 blokes camped around their penalty area. Not easy! And their goalkeeper played well as did Ware's Lady Luck, she were great.
They scored a good chipped goal to win it. However with their singular tactic being the hoofed break, Trevor had hitherto been employed to good effect as sweeper and when this particular shot came in they were fortunate it was so well placed- a rarity. How we never equalised in ensuing scrambles and through numerous well placed corners, goodness knows.
I would have thought there was all round enjoyment apart from the result.
Unfortunately Phil badly damaged an ankle and did well to hobble on as referee in great pain. He put me in my place, thank you it improved my game. Gavin was at his wife's 10km. run, I forgot. That worries me, my forgetting that is. The doc says something about a manifestation of ageing but am in denial.
Well done all, pub subdued as we were outnumbered by a victorious Ware mob- but we live to play another day. That, after all is what being a vet is all about- longevity fuck the quality.
Ron
It was a lovely day and resplendent in new kit a competitive game was fought out against Ware. The only downside we lost!
Probably didn't deserve to lose even though not at our best. Injuries didn't really help but not a reason for defeat. As their keeper said we battered them, though we didn't score enough and they kept hitting us on the break where Alistair coped manfully with their only forward, a black Gavin!!
They held a half time lead by virtue of one of their rare attacks before a lovely back to front move saw us equalise with an excellent headed goal from Mike.
The second half saw us finding out the difficulties of beating down a defence with 9 blokes camped around their penalty area. Not easy! And their goalkeeper played well as did Ware's Lady Luck, she were great.
They scored a good chipped goal to win it. However with their singular tactic being the hoofed break, Trevor had hitherto been employed to good effect as sweeper and when this particular shot came in they were fortunate it was so well placed- a rarity. How we never equalised in ensuing scrambles and through numerous well placed corners, goodness knows.
I would have thought there was all round enjoyment apart from the result.
Unfortunately Phil badly damaged an ankle and did well to hobble on as referee in great pain. He put me in my place, thank you it improved my game. Gavin was at his wife's 10km. run, I forgot. That worries me, my forgetting that is. The doc says something about a manifestation of ageing but am in denial.
Well done all, pub subdued as we were outnumbered by a victorious Ware mob- but we live to play another day. That, after all is what being a vet is all about- longevity fuck the quality.
Ron
Sunday 7 September 2008
Knobs 11 Garston 2
I refereed, in the first half and I was embarrassed. Martin agreed in the first half, this was embarrassing. Approaching John coming off at half time, his first comment was "this is embarrassing". So it wasn't just me. What was so embarrassing? Our 5-0 half time lead?
Perhaps some of us were getting things out of all proportion, perhaps we were playing so bloody well perhaps it was simply an unstoppable day for us. Who the fuck knows. In the pub Brendan said you can only approach a game against the opposition set out in front of you. Yes. It's no good beating yourself up because you outplayed an opposition so thoroughly in the only indisputable way- simply scoring far more goals than them!
However nagging disquiet rules in my addled brain. When arranging the fixtures their bloke John always emphasises the age of his side put out against us. (Garston have a very large vets set up and for some recent historical reason have chosen us as a fixture for their mainly over 50's side). I always retort that we are a small vets' squad and can only field an eleven that is available. I emphasised that to John last Sunday and he seemed to be OK with it. Last year we beat them 2-1 with not so much an older Knobs side but a less able one. You may remember I scored the winner, I do, it was a good win, an enjoyable game for both sides and one we actually won with a faultless display of goalkeeping by Trevor. Today was different. Apart from playing with our legs in hobbling irons I don't know what else we could have done.
They chose to kick off after winning the toss and we chose to kick downhill. They started brightly with some of their clever passing drawing gasps of admiration. Yet their purist football never looked remotely like advancing them into dangerous positions where they could damage us. It's a big pitch and they didn't have the legs to support each other in possession. C'est la vie! After a few pleasing-on-the-eye passes their moves either broke down with a loose pass or more often they were brushed aside by honest endeavour. Thence came the crunch. When in possession Knebworth possessed players who could run strongly with the ball and off the ball, Richard, the returning Alistair, Matty and Martin to mention a few were running like whippets. As we got on top we tended to run even harder and faster. What a contrast to the last two weeks when we looked decidedly unfit and off the pace. Of course the confidence of scoring made all the difference and we fed hungrily thereafter, racking up goals at will. Mind you we've all played games when we had a superiority and won but never so emphatically as this one. I remember a game two years ago against a very weak Old Pretenders which we only drew 2-2 instead of winning by a cricket score. Then there was the game we lost at home to a pretty aged Kempston side last season, how did that happen? And so on. Perhaps as their midfielder Wally and some of our team said some of their side simply gave up. Perhaps, I'm not sure. Anyway relative to the game today, those who played for us were certainly up for it and well played to them all. At least we paid them the respect of playing hard and not showboating or taking the piss just cos we were scoring so well. That would have been awful. We played hard and respectfully so well done all of you!
They won't all be like this one. Next week we entertain Ware at home in the league, a different world but please bring the same commitment and attitude with you.
Goalscorers Matt 4, Mike 3, Steve, Mark, Brendan and Ron (my kingdom for a chip! it brought memories back from twenty years ago and before and a tear blinded me eye).
A nice wee session in The Fox where Garston showed in numbers. I guess the next game against them, before Christmas, might see a different opposition in front of us. Fair enough, but we'll have Roy back. Revenge is a dish savoured....... Put this one in your diaries.
Thanks to Alistair for reffing second half. Thanks to John for not coming on in the second half. Thanks to Roy for going home before kick off, superfluity of players.
A viewing of the new kit took place in The Fox, the jury's out! Thanks to Trevor for providing it and best wishes to him in light of his family concern.
Obviously those who ref our games in future cannot wear black. Some of you may know that I have a rather attractive line in white T-shirts with dizzying designs which are borrowable at no charge! And I didn't get them from that Mike Ashley's sporting junk shops.
The incomparable Len Shackleton, Crown Prince of Soccer, once had a chapter in his autobiography entitled what directors know about football. Needless to say there followed several blank pages. This was followed by Cloughie's mantra- directors know nothing about football, directors never thank you and directors are essentially untrustworthy so don't try to befriend them. KK should have taken note. We have owners and international companies now running clubs. Thieving Russian oligarchs with their playthings, corrupt Thai politicians with apalling human rights records, billionaire Arab sheiks accidentally sitting on oilfields (wonder if Manchester City have a women's team, ad pay good money to watch a team playing in burkas but not sure about the stoning and amputations that follow a stripping off of a veil when they score) and then there's the heroic 'people's owner' Mike Fucking Ashley. The man who made his millions selling shoddy sportswear, made by slave and child labour to the masses, some may say the multitudinous unwashed, of Britain. Isn't it great to support a club with such financial scruples? He's given Newcastle nowt, he'll make a huge profit on his investment and life will go on. Just how does one ethically support your club in this day and age? Fucked if a knaa. The new messiahs of Newcastle? Some conglomerate of Indian businessmen. Better than Ashley? You must be joking though Geordies do like a curry! The pain goes on.... and on....
So it's howay the lads as England's national team slips further into the brown slimy stuff . What a way to run a pastime.
Chippy
Perhaps some of us were getting things out of all proportion, perhaps we were playing so bloody well perhaps it was simply an unstoppable day for us. Who the fuck knows. In the pub Brendan said you can only approach a game against the opposition set out in front of you. Yes. It's no good beating yourself up because you outplayed an opposition so thoroughly in the only indisputable way- simply scoring far more goals than them!
However nagging disquiet rules in my addled brain. When arranging the fixtures their bloke John always emphasises the age of his side put out against us. (Garston have a very large vets set up and for some recent historical reason have chosen us as a fixture for their mainly over 50's side). I always retort that we are a small vets' squad and can only field an eleven that is available. I emphasised that to John last Sunday and he seemed to be OK with it. Last year we beat them 2-1 with not so much an older Knobs side but a less able one. You may remember I scored the winner, I do, it was a good win, an enjoyable game for both sides and one we actually won with a faultless display of goalkeeping by Trevor. Today was different. Apart from playing with our legs in hobbling irons I don't know what else we could have done.
They chose to kick off after winning the toss and we chose to kick downhill. They started brightly with some of their clever passing drawing gasps of admiration. Yet their purist football never looked remotely like advancing them into dangerous positions where they could damage us. It's a big pitch and they didn't have the legs to support each other in possession. C'est la vie! After a few pleasing-on-the-eye passes their moves either broke down with a loose pass or more often they were brushed aside by honest endeavour. Thence came the crunch. When in possession Knebworth possessed players who could run strongly with the ball and off the ball, Richard, the returning Alistair, Matty and Martin to mention a few were running like whippets. As we got on top we tended to run even harder and faster. What a contrast to the last two weeks when we looked decidedly unfit and off the pace. Of course the confidence of scoring made all the difference and we fed hungrily thereafter, racking up goals at will. Mind you we've all played games when we had a superiority and won but never so emphatically as this one. I remember a game two years ago against a very weak Old Pretenders which we only drew 2-2 instead of winning by a cricket score. Then there was the game we lost at home to a pretty aged Kempston side last season, how did that happen? And so on. Perhaps as their midfielder Wally and some of our team said some of their side simply gave up. Perhaps, I'm not sure. Anyway relative to the game today, those who played for us were certainly up for it and well played to them all. At least we paid them the respect of playing hard and not showboating or taking the piss just cos we were scoring so well. That would have been awful. We played hard and respectfully so well done all of you!
They won't all be like this one. Next week we entertain Ware at home in the league, a different world but please bring the same commitment and attitude with you.
Goalscorers Matt 4, Mike 3, Steve, Mark, Brendan and Ron (my kingdom for a chip! it brought memories back from twenty years ago and before and a tear blinded me eye).
A nice wee session in The Fox where Garston showed in numbers. I guess the next game against them, before Christmas, might see a different opposition in front of us. Fair enough, but we'll have Roy back. Revenge is a dish savoured....... Put this one in your diaries.
Thanks to Alistair for reffing second half. Thanks to John for not coming on in the second half. Thanks to Roy for going home before kick off, superfluity of players.
A viewing of the new kit took place in The Fox, the jury's out! Thanks to Trevor for providing it and best wishes to him in light of his family concern.
Obviously those who ref our games in future cannot wear black. Some of you may know that I have a rather attractive line in white T-shirts with dizzying designs which are borrowable at no charge! And I didn't get them from that Mike Ashley's sporting junk shops.
The incomparable Len Shackleton, Crown Prince of Soccer, once had a chapter in his autobiography entitled what directors know about football. Needless to say there followed several blank pages. This was followed by Cloughie's mantra- directors know nothing about football, directors never thank you and directors are essentially untrustworthy so don't try to befriend them. KK should have taken note. We have owners and international companies now running clubs. Thieving Russian oligarchs with their playthings, corrupt Thai politicians with apalling human rights records, billionaire Arab sheiks accidentally sitting on oilfields (wonder if Manchester City have a women's team, ad pay good money to watch a team playing in burkas but not sure about the stoning and amputations that follow a stripping off of a veil when they score) and then there's the heroic 'people's owner' Mike Fucking Ashley. The man who made his millions selling shoddy sportswear, made by slave and child labour to the masses, some may say the multitudinous unwashed, of Britain. Isn't it great to support a club with such financial scruples? He's given Newcastle nowt, he'll make a huge profit on his investment and life will go on. Just how does one ethically support your club in this day and age? Fucked if a knaa. The new messiahs of Newcastle? Some conglomerate of Indian businessmen. Better than Ashley? You must be joking though Geordies do like a curry! The pain goes on.... and on....
So it's howay the lads as England's national team slips further into the brown slimy stuff . What a way to run a pastime.
Chippy
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)