By Smithy Out-fought, out-thought, outplayed, out the night before? This was a do-or-die encounter for both clubs in their hunt for a champions league spot and proved a real ding-dong-do. There was confusion from the outset as both teams decided to wear blue, fortunately Mexoc had the gumption to quickly change into their away kit of blue. The heavy pitch and biting wind ensured that this would not be the total football expected by the many fan (was he a fan or the ref's dad?) who had braved the elements to observe the battle, but this was real "no guts no glory" sport. Mexoc, testing out the Roma-esque 4-1-2-2-1-0 formation, began brightly and quickly found themselves two goals down, to what the ancient Romans would have described as "shit offside goals". Not to be disheartened. the non-scally XI continued to pass the ball around with great aplomb, albeit most of the passes strayed onto the nearby pitches, or to the feet of the opposition. Mexoc were thrown a lifeline when the Ginger Pole did his best Greg Louganis impression (or for those of you of a younger vintage - Tom Daley) and performed a triple pike with accompanying girly scream to scandalously win a free kick on the edge of the box. Former model (of balaclavas and gloves) Smith (aka El Big Dog) nonchalantly stepped up and nailed one into the top bin - sweet as a nut. Mexoc were now rampant and an the inevitable equalizer duly arrived from the 50p head of the old warhorse Mingebag Matthews, bundling the ball over the line from a set piece - game on. The animals of Alder had clearly had their cages rattled and they responded in typical Scouse fashion, by resorting to violence and name calling. Sticks and stones may break my bones, and so does a nut to the nose as John Ford Cortina found to his, and several hankies' cost. Half-time 2 - 2 The second half started as the first had begun with Mexoc in the ascendancy. Emotions erupted (along with JFC's nose again) when Mexoc found themselves in the lead due to yet another strike from Big Nose Faulkner, reacting first to a neat flick on from a long throw. Mexoc's joy brought about tumescence in everyone's shorts. Here We Go, Here We Go, Up the Mexoc, Come on You Blues, Hooray, Bravo, Encore, We are the One and Only Mexoc, Ee -I -ee - I Ee-I-O up the Football league we go etc.. roared the fan. You could smell the fear of Manweb FC 10 miles away as they could see their lead in the title race being chipped away by the resurgent Mexoc FC. At this point, all of the other I-Zingari bosses were shaking like shitting dogs at the prospect of meeting and being overrun by the force of the Mighty Blues. But fate is a cruel mistress and she positively shat all over Mexoc in the next 30 minutes as every freakin shot by Alder seemed to find the corner of the net; every offside decision went in Alder's favour; every foul was ignored - every dog has it day, needless to say it was not ours. Alder scored shed loads of goals, whilst our only further effort was ruled out for a push on the gaylord of a keeper. But let us not kid ourselves into believing that the finger of blame should be pointed anywhere than squarely at wounded warriors of Mexoc. This game included some of the best Mexoc football ever played, as well as the absolute nadir of the team's history. "Settling for third or fourth place for a team of this ability cannot be considered acceptable" - Kenyon. The boisterous exultation normally filling every orifice of Kelly's was replaced with tepid persiflage as the realisation struck that the league title was no longer a SMART objective and the last chance of 2009 glory all rested on an upcoming Cup match against Alder. Come on you blues!
