Saturday AM: The Pre Match Build Up
I woke up at 11.15am, feeling on top of the world. I had just caught up on several hours of sleep that I’d missed during a hectic week of work, football and women. Apologies, that was my first lie of what will continue to be a finely written but questionable passage. After my commitments to work and football I had no time to ‘chase da hoes’. Anyway, upon realising that I needed leave immediately leapt up out of my bed, scrapped my usual pre-match ritual of Bacon, OJ and Fifa and ran out of the door, having hit my injured knee on both bikes that were resting nicely in the hallway, blocking the only exit out of my flat that wouldn’t involve me having to take a trip to a poorly run A&E department.
So, I’m in my car driving across London when I realise that I’ve never driven to Victoria Park before. Luckily, Sat Nav was on hand. Unfortunately, I had to Google the postcode using my phone, evading the police as I did so. Challenge accepted, and passed. The next thing was to assess what kit I had in my boot. I quickly realised that I had no Deep Heat, Shin pads or self respect left, so I began frantically texting the team. I was most concerned about the shin pads – not for protection but more so because I wanted to look the part. My socks would fall down to my ankles if I did not have shin pads to hold them up.
My Arrival, Warm Up and Team
I arrived a little late (about 1pm), got changed and punished myself by running and stretching in isolation whilst the rest of the team took turns to attempt to name different stretches in a circle. Despite it only lasting 270 seconds, my warm up and stretching routine was more than enough to ensure I felt as hot as Mila Kunis and as flexible as a Chinese Olympic Gymnast. By this point I felt fired up and raring to go. We did a little keep ball in a square, however I needed to correct the fitting of the knee support that Stefan kindly leant me and slather myself in enough Deep Heat to create a fire.
Jeff read out the team. To be honest, I wasn’t really concentrating that much on the line up... I was just listening to see whether or not I had made the side. I was late, brought no kit and had complained consistently about my injured knee all week. I hadn’t scored in a couple of games, had been sent off recently and so thought I might be kicked out of the starting line up in not too dissimilar a fashion to the way that Dennis Wise was omitted from the Leicester City squad having broken the nose of Callum Davidson with one swift punch in ’02.
The First Half
It’s been 9 days and I have largely forgotten what happened during the game. I actually just had to look over an old email to recount which side we were playing. Anyway, I digress again. We were playing Cambridge Heath A. They were in one colour and we were in our gorgeous new sky blue shirts and navy shorts.
We went 1-0 down to a goal that they scored at some point during the first 10 mins or so. I then scored following a beautiful ball through from T (as he is now known in Atholl emails, when J remembers to include him). My speed took me past the nearest defender, who definitely should have stuck out a leg and fouled me, and I slotted home the equaliser.
Mid Second Half – 3-2 Cambridge Heath
Since you read the word ‘equaliser’, 2 more goals went in... 1 for Cambridge Heath and 1 for us. Who scored you might ask... PETE (or P, as he may well now be known)! He got into the box and following some neat heading and volleying, rifled home. Top corner strike. GAME ON.
On around 60 mins I won a penalty. Their centre back clattered me, which was unfortunate for them as the goalkeeper had already pulled off an excellent save. Unfortunately, despite a solidly hit strike by N, we did not capitalise. Cambridge Heath scored about 5 minutes later which added to my despair.
Nevertheless, we never gave up. For whatever reason, Cambridge Heath, having gone 3-2 ahead, switched to a 2-3-5 formation and I found myself with acres of space on the right hand side of the pitch as C picked up the ball on the half way line. I was SCREAMING for the ball. There are moments in games when you feel as though the crowd should consist of more than an old man, his dog and a questionable smell. C played an exquisite, pinpoint ball which took their two defenders out and left me with a clear opportunity on goal. One touch to control, another touch to push the ball into a hittable position and a final one to slot it across the keeper.
It felt like a 90 minute Champions League winner. I skidded into the empty, dog shit ridden fields behind and waited for everyone to walk over to me.
3-3 Final Score. A hard fought point with great character shown by the boys to come back into the game after going behind twice.​
