Goldings 4 Knobs 3

Rural tranquillity, Bramfield. Sunny and cold, tiny pitch.
Crappiest of all "changing rooms", all together in a cupboard, so tight we were changing each other. Ooh nice, touch me there again Dave sort of coziness. It didn't augur well with the entrance  floor being covered by a broken glass bottle. Noone seemed to care. Two open plan showers in the corner doubled as a toilet well they did for Trevor.
Struggled to get a side out, so two outsiders Dave Fish and Tony's mate Richard deputised.
We attacked first and Gavin was thwarted from a narrow angle. Then they attacked , not particularly threatening or creative just lumping forward and pushing and shoving but trouble was we never looked like having a defence against it. We were woeful, nah we were absolute shite. Allowed ourselves to be bullied and intimated so much so that three of the goals came from the most pathetic of challenges inside our six yard box. Re phrase that, no challenges in the six yard box.
It was discussed in the conviviality of the salubrious pub opposite afterwards. All seem to acknowledge collective blame and yes as a group we were non existent in that dreadful first half. But in this mess individual lack of commitment stood out. Brendan was at fault for the first for not simply conceding a corner as the bloke behind him sneaked ahead and toe  poked past the line bound Trevor. Dave looked as if he was never gonna get near anyone to commit some of his morale sapping fouls and tackles and an easy bit of play, unchallenged saw them score from a shit cross from his side for the second. Unchallenged, unchallenged and unchallenged! After you Claud, you score. The third saw a ball wickedly bounce over Tony's head in the six yard box. His warning of "over me" was not supposed to be an invitation to sexual liaison but a warning to those behind to defend. Again no challenge, ball netted from a few inches.
The 4th goal was just the opening of the floodgates. 4-0. We were coping better with Mr Fish at centre back, Brendan at left back and Dave left midfield but could we get a bit of energy into the play and a bit of commitment instead the tentative passivity that was the first half story.
Everyone knew that as individuals and even as a team force we were far better than that. Second half everyone showed it. Except for a couple of breakaways from which they missed they weren't in it thanks to tackling, challenging, RUNNING and the occasional foul or three. The reward was three goals all from Gavin. The first, he outran the back for and slid it in before the keeper could get there. The keeper was favourite but Gavin was quick and committed. The second was a Gavin penalty after he, himself, had been scythed down. The third, from a deflected free kick, from one of the many freekicks they started conceding from shooting range. Ian slid Gavin in for what would have been an equaliser but a controversial flag thwarted him. Much mirth from their massed ranks on the line. wasn't even marginal. Our 4th was not to come.
John Twigg in at left back for Brendan was tackling and putting his body on the line like a man possessed. Dave was involved in everything on the left tackling, bumping, boring and stirring up passions. This was really really better. Nothing pretty but it was a competition for supremacy which the first half certainly wasn't.
Well done and in the end unlucky!
Noone felt like a journey into Hertford and all were disappearing to respective abodes when Tony emerged from the adjacent restaurant-pub and announced they were letting riff raff in. So we gathered together and went in. Very nice, clean and sparkling with quoffable ale.  Goodnight Vienna!