Knobs 8 Old Owens 0

A bit of a foxpot. We turn out with a strongish side for a league game, they show last minute with 8 men! A game took place with us giving them the extra. We claim the league points we have no spare games on our calendar and fuck the league, every game's a 'league' game at our age.
Steve Hammond and Mark turned out for them first half, Dave wouldn't, he's too partisan by nature. I would have played for them but Dave was unwilling to take up refereeing duties. He's too partisan by nature viz. he's a cheating bastard. So first half was their 8 plus our two against our 11 with me referee and Dave admiring the universe.
They had some good players and played some neat stuff, Mark Mills prominent among this but there was no holding back our our well oiled, balanced machine, coached to the point of a pencil.
After 10 minutes Gavin picked the ball up on the half way line and said fuck this for a soiled nappy and ran at pace through the middle of their team and scored beautifully in the corner. He then spent the next 10 minutes vomitting quietly in some quiet cranny so I am told!
Martin and Steve were prodding, pulling, prompting and piercing in midfield and it was no surprise when goals started flowing. John B added 3 before half time, one via the despairing nutt of Steve Hammond- John's or Steve's? Matty, the metronomic assistant, added one of his own- yes he was miles onside. Alisair was purring up and and down the line, crosses somewhat a lottery, Chris W was back reacqainting himself with the nuances of Vets' football and everyone was at one with the world. Martin was 45 years young. The oppo weren't happy though and asked for a reduction of time, 10 minutes each way, 40 minutes each way, let's fuck off now and I compromised at 35 each way , dunno why just felt sorry for everyone.
Second half more of the same but less coherence in our play as everyone wanted to be Martin and Steve Bull and a certain amount of shape went all gy. Dave was on now, for us, he's a homer, and Alistair was turning out for them , cursed by three blades of grass. Alistair was having a blinder on the right, largely due to John Twigg being awol trying to score goals. But the pitch didn't favour him!
Dave promptly scored on the end of a flowing move (offside?) I wouldn't know I was only reffing. A lovely move ended with Chris W sidefooting home, then John added his cruel fourth, blasting in from the narrowest of angles. Steve and Mark played well for them as did the less fortunate Alistair, when will the grass be cut and rolled to match our finesse and artistry?
Mark could have notched, when through, but was foiled by a neat scissor leg save by Gavin deputising for Phil in goal in the second half. Well done all, sorry for the brevity it seemed a long morning to me!
Phil went to Darlington to see Luton the day before. 4-0 down after half and hour- that's the sort of dogged vet we need!
To the Fox- the oppo 8 were still there drinking when we left- Martin 45 didn't show and Bella and Willie, mes chiens, thought the sausages were simply wonderful.
Cheerio folks.