Mech-uck came into this game on a fabulous run of 2 wins in a row. For 80 minutes it was a very 'polished' performance by the 14 horsemen of the dispensary, however 'Mr Sheen' will need to dust the mud off the home team's crossbar this week after a mighty scare in the 137th minute, and a ‘pledge’ to keep the winning run going was paramount.
A large squad selection demonstrated the depth in numbers that the experienced Gavin McCann-a-like manager has built up after scouting the continent for new talent during the summer.
Mechshuck could even afford the luxury of having 4 (four) experienced players on the (no) bench and no place for Ioannis 'the gloved Campo' in the 15.
Played in conditions reminiscent of the Twelfth Battle of the Isonzo, where a young and bearded Simon 'Jeff Christ' Steff made his debut, it was an Asquithian decision that gave Polish their first real opportunity - the Himmler style ref electing to use the 'proper referee's coin' with no head - meaning a near re-toss before the trenches could be dug and the correctly inflated pig's bladder could advance.
The first real opportunity of the game fell to Causley, returning to the side after missing the previous week's epic, but his 8th touch let him down just as he was about to annexe the poles' stanchion, and the ball scuttled away towards Speke.
The horses were playing some neat football on the difficult surface, and looked organised throughout, especially at the back. Two flowing moves involving several players nearly resulted in breaking the deadlock; Smith’s worm shagger effort hit the outside of the post before a stunning volley by Regan just sailed wide.
Polish attacks relied mainly on the Delap manouevre, but like many other sex positions, Matthews, recovering from his £2 kinder loss, repelled each one.
So goalless at half time, and Mucksock could count themselves unlucky not to be in front. Patience was urged during the half time talk, though most people prefer to play Mingebag. A severe lack of sliced oranges would not deter the mighty horse power for long though.
The home team were quickly out of their ‘hangars’ and after some relentless poor play, with Moocsuck dominating, a quality corner from John 'assist' Faulkner allowed 5"10 Causley to out jump his 5"11 marker to bury a header into the corner of the 3rd 8th of the left hand side of the net. The stattos amongst you will have noted that this was Causley’s 66th goal in the last 66 games from only 476 chances.
It was no more than Mickoc deserved and it seemed to inject some confidence into the boys in the navy. Not long after, another Faulky set piece, delivered by his large nose, was met expertly by young Richie 'The Gasman' Pearson who was making his first visit to the opposition's penalty area to Corgi register his first for the club.
The opposition defence were poles apart for the following period, allowing Causley to test the workmanship of the furniture with a looping header that he may have done better with. Inspired substitutions by the allenatore soon lead to Mexoc's third.
Yet again it was Faulkner, in good form following his retirement as Deputy Speaker of the Lords, who released substitute Steff to canter across the terrain like a tortoise on its hind legs. The Polish keeper came out of his shell to close down the gippo-esque tricenerian however the artist formerly known as Steffi was too quick (yes its true) and his 'pole-driver' effort of a cross took deflections from a defender, the goal keeper, a tree, a slug, Reyno's new bed linen, Kev's dresser and finally the post before nestling in the onion bag.
Nobody could deny that Steff deserved the goal, none more so than himself who's celebration emulated his heroes - namely Shearer, Akinbiyi, Barton (Warren) and Lee (Jason) before sketching a human portrait of an un-kempt Bebeto with the old rocking baby dedication (I was going to say ubiquitous celebration but everyone's using that word these days). Surely a contender for celebration of all time.
Not long after, confusion amongst the Pole Cats allowed Smith to attempt an overhead kick whilst on the ground. The resultant mis-kick fell kindly to Causley but when it looked easier to score, a mole stuck its head out of the ground and nudged the ball upwards meaning Causley could only shin it for a goal kick. Then a good claim for a PK following a trip on Causley was denied by the twatty ref.
The battle seemed all but over, especially when the ref tweaked his hamstring whilst warning a Pole that he wasn’t allowed to use a tissue to stop his nose bleed. The game was to finish early provided the immigrants didn’t attempt to fruit pick the Mexoc lead.
True to form, it was the Madcocks defence that had a nosebleed at the prospect of a clean sheet, and when a long ball wasn’t dealt with, Johnson appeared to be favourite to get to the ball first (favourite compared to Princess Diana anyway) and he was stranded as the opposition claimed what seemed a consolation.
Yet the Macsick defence proved as leaky as Pearso's gas fittings as moments later Captain Mainwaring appeared to be organising the defensive troops when from the right flank, a blunderbus of an effort that Fritz would’ve been proud of, crept inside the home net meaning Corporal Jones took over with the team instructions of ‘Don’t Panic’.
Two minutes from time, a good move allowed Smith to lay the ball to Causley, who attempted a chip that couldn’t have been tastier if it had peppers, chillies and salt on it. For the second time though, the cast iron-work denied him.
With the ref’s ‘proper ref’s watch’ beeping for time, a corner was swung in by the Poles, seeking an undeserved equaliser. In true Clive Thomas fashion, the ref blew time as the ball was hurtling toward the most Northerly Pole only for the resultant top-shot to crash against the bar.
A very lucky escape then for the Horsemen - seemingly managing to make a potential 6 or 7 goal thrashing into an edgy 3-2 win. One day, the lack of concentration may cost the team, but in the mean time Mexoc can enjoy the heady heights of 2nd in the league and look forward to a cup game followed by a 6 pointer against unbeaten Manweb.
The 'koński zwis' of the day was none other than Simon Steff for his awesome celebration, and he only narrowly missed out on the 42p prize after Mingebag 2008 Part 1 ended in a stalemate.
Keep it up you ‘neigh-vies’, where do I claim the Pulitzer Prize?
Dan
