Sandy 2 knobs 5

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