Stu's birthday is today - happy birthday Stu! Neil "Old Man" Zondervan had his birthday last week - happy birthday Neil! He was complaining pre-game about aches and niggles and old age, as was I (calf trouble). Sheepy/Sherry/Sheedy pulled on the gloves for the first half, with a backline of Star Man Lucas at RB, Zondervan, Intertoto (best place to hide him really), Doggie Dundee LB (also the best place to hide). Midfield of Jose, Tony, Alessandro and Byron (RM) with Illy and Tommy Dazzler up front. Jackson Flash was late (quelle surprise), apparently still hungover from a skinful the night before (quelle surprise), but in an actual surprise Jordan Zola joined him on the tardy bench, his bus taking an hour to travel the few hundred metres down Battersea Bridge Road. Thanks roadworks. The opposition were a complete rabble - they only had about four or five for kick off (no recognisable faces), so we roped in some randoms who were having a kickabout on the pitch before us. It was a very piecemeal affair to begin with, James making a great fingertip save from a powerful shot on a tight angle, but nothing else major to write about. The introduction of Zola and Jackson Not-So-Flash sparked things into life, Zola's second touch latching onto a wild panicked clearance from Tony and slotting home. Why we persist on playing such an easily spooked player as Tony in midfield still baffles me. We scored a second shortly after, Tommy Dazzler getting it from apparently a Tony assist, although I find that really hard to believe. The bystander talk at half-time was "they're killing them, they haven't looked troubled at all", and to be fair it wasn't too far off the mark. Second half saw the randoms slowly drift off, and with Jordan and Jackson Not-So-Flash bolstering our ranks we sent Star Man Lucas and Byron off to the dark side. With the addition of occasional BoC-er Injured Dan (Dan! Dan! Dan!) and his mate George they brought the oppo up to their full complement. George was talking a big game at half-time "I should go on, help them out, score a few goals", and he duly obliged, going on a mazy Anthony Martial-like (George's words) run on the left wing before slotting in at the near-post past Sherry. Despite that setback they never really threatened that much, although we had plenty of chances, Dazzler blazing a few over when in good positions but I can't criticise as I would do exactly the same. He did get his second of the game to seal it, Frazzled Tony was in all sorts of trouble on the touchline and Tommy Dazzler ran over to help, only for the ball to flick off Tony's heel as he was falling over and fortuitously bounce into Dazzler's path, his deft first-time left-foot lob nestling in the far corner. With the game won, Old Man Zondervan succumbed to his old age and went in goal to nurse his injuries (I think his chakras must be misaligned, seek homeopathic help), Sheepy forging ahead at LB. It finished 3-1, the three "assists" from Tony sees him getting the Encouragement Award - sorry, I mean MOTM. PubSquad was light on, just Doggie Dundee, Sheepy, Phil and his mate Rich in town from the US, here to watch the NFL: Washington vs Cincinnati. Go Penguins! Sheedy could become the next BoC Star Man, as on Monday he is being interviewed to be on Countdown. In explaining to me what Countdown was he mentioned the number round, and that you get to choose Large Numbers and Small Numbers. Upon hearing that 76 might be considered A Large Number I couldn't help but laugh. A Large Number is, say, Graham's Number. It is so large, that even if every digit only took up a Planck Volume of space (a quintillionth of a proton), the number itself would be many, many, many times larger than the observable universe. And the observable universe is large, just a few weeks ago it was discovered it actually contains 10 times more galaxies than previously though, at least 2 trillion. It's just annoying that ours has to have Donald Bloody Trump in it. I left the pub early to prepare my wife's visa application the next day (successful, £2000 buys another 2.5 years of BoC) so don't know how the evening ended up. No doubt mad cap shenanigans. Is this possibly the end of Reays as an oppo? Are they done? Cooked? Have we beaten them, finally, completely, totally, for the rest of eternity? If so, raise your glasses lads, to the End of Reays.
