Red (5): James, Keith, Tufan, Daniel, John
Yellow (6): Gerald, Richard, Colin, Oz, Matt, Jim
What a cracker! The highest attendance since Mr Piper departed us in mid-August. Sunny – a little warm even. A good sized pitch but a bit bobbley and Matt returns from cricket exile.
Red didn’t start like they were the man down. Keith curled a peach of a cross for Daniel to head back across goal and over the keeper, just a shade high of the top corner – an impressive start from Red and it stayed relentless for the next five minutes. They peppered the Yellow goal with several headers and shots and own goals were there for the taking too. But nothing went in and Yellow finally got into the game. It was fast stuff, breaks-a-plenty and end-to-end running around. The first goal came after about 15 minutes, James taking a short corner to Tufan who dribbled around the defender, along to the goal line and crossed for Keith to side-foot in. Red got up to 2-0 after easily dominating the first half half but Yellow somehow pulled two back, the second going in just before half-time.
They settled after the break – a much more even-sided affair. Red got the first but Yellow replied and went ahead too! Sadly its all a bit of blur so all I can recall is Jim scooping a chance over the bar from a metre out, Keith impersonating Bruce Lee and a succession of consistently placed misses from Matt all going just wide and low of the right post. Oz fired off a handful of rockets which caused problems. John took the sting out of one but Matt was on hand to fire in the lose ball. John got on the scoresheet though in revenge, calmly poking in when the ball seem to have awkwardly aluded him. And then five minutes before the end, Red equalised.
Hardly an engaging report (apologies for gaps of individual greatness) but a very impressive counter-attacking style from both teams who both wanted the win. Just like Mr Piper, you couldn’t question the passion.
It may have been just a draw but something won out there – football!
Final score: Yellow 4 – 4 Red
Yellow: Nigel, Josh, Oz, Daniel, Bruno
Red: Richard, James, John G, Tufan, Gerald
We live – Huzzah! It rained – boo! Another 5-a-side.
Bruno returns from his work/study exile for his first game in nine weeks & Nigel introduces his 15 year old son, Josh.
Daniel got us started, snapping at the dithering heels of defending Gerald and poking betwixt James’s legs. Not to be outdone, Richard offered himself up as Mr Nutmeg, allowing all and sundry to dribble between his legs during the first half and not much else worked out for him either. However Tufan made amends, poking in a couple after some scrappy defending. Bruno swept home a cut back from the right and I don’t recall much else.
4-3 at the break to Yellow.
As a result, they had a complacent silence at half time. Red discussed much.
It paid dividends. They ran rings around the bamboozled Yellow defence and popped in four without reply – John, Tufan and James were transformed from the first half and linked up like a dream. Gerald’s goal was a peach, wrong footing the keeper who stepped out to block the anticipated cross so he fired into the gap left behind. Yellow took about 15 minutes to react to the demolition. Nigel stopped the rot, controlling a chipped cross from Josh (I think) with the first touch and firing in on the volley with his second. Nice. They got a few more too with Oz distributing well from the middle, Josh regularly attacking from the wings and Bruno dribbling anywhere. They were threatneing to draw level when Daniel parried an initial shot into the air and Richard only had watch gravity in action for the ball to fall onto his chest and bounce in. He got another shortly after, coming down the right wing unnoticed and pinging a chipped cross from the left into the far corner. James was very vocal in his celebration but it was goal of the game and if you want a visual reference, just look at Dennis Rommedahl doing the exactly same from a Stig Tøfting chipped cross, Denmark vs France, World Cup 2002. A carbon copy, only from the other wing.
A couple of goals here and there kept it exciting and Nigel’s boots once again failed him, 5.8, 5.7, 5.2 for the splits. Daniel could have drawn level with Bruno rolling the ball across the goal but he hadn’t believed by about an inch. It was cleared down the other end for a Yellow throw which fell for Tufan to stroke into the empty net a second before the whistle. Apologies that I can only recall nine of the twenty goals – feel free to describe your omitted contributions in the comments below!
Final score: Yellow 9 – 11 Red
Black: Oz, Kevin, Julius, Tufan, Keith
Yellow: Richard N, Gerald, Nigel, Daniel, Jim
5-a-side. Red bibs were shunned for the team who’d all turned up in dark tops. A return from injury for Jim, his first game since June; a debut for Nigel; a birthday for Gerald. It’s all about me! me! me!
Nigel made an immediate impact, side footing in from a Daniel layoff. He was having trouble staying on his feet though, good control but dodgy astros. The situation peaked during a kafuffle in the six yard box with the keeper, a defender and Nigel all going to ground and eventually Nigel poking it in. No handball but after a brief discussion it was controversially disallowed. A three man break of Richard in possession, Daniel running off down the left and Gerald down the right advanced on the Black goal. Daniel (lacking confidence after firing wide from to two lovely cut-backs) shouted “birthday boy,” Richard duly passed and Gerald slotted in. It took Richard, Jim and Daniel to retrieve the ball from under a circus truck after a wayward shot and they were subjected to the usual witticisms from Kevin.
Tufan took a shot which should have been easily stopped but Daniel in goal was unsighted by Gerald who got a touch to deflect the ball through the keepers legs. He was resolute after that though, frustrating Tufan on several occasions with some solid saves. Oz jumped on one parry to fire against the post, the goalkeeper relieved to see the ball roll across the goal to safety. Yellow got up to 3-1 by half time.
Throughout the second half, Tufan and Keith linked up well in attack, dangerous and quick pass-and-move type stuff and it paid off. They slowly clawed back the goals, 2-3, 3-3 and then they got in front, 4-3, 5-3 including one from Julius who took a pop and nutmegged the birthday boy in goal and strolled away muttering something like “Happy Birthday Gerald!”
Jim had been limping about a lot but then suddenly sprinted forward down the left to fire in past Oz – cynical but effective and it restored some hope but in the last five minutes, Oz took control and fired in to end Yellow belief.
Final score: Black 6 – 4 Yellow
It was a dark, still and clear night. El Capitano was just finishing cooking in his kitchen when a draft blew out the candle on the table. Strange, he thought, there hasn’t been a breeze all evening. Just as he struck a match there was a single ominous chime of a church bell followed shortly afterwards by a noise at the door.
Knock………(long pause)……Knock……….(long pause)……….Knock.
She’s a bit early thought El Capitano, I haven’t even prepped my julienne of leeks. He undid the bow on his pinny, draped it on the back of a chair and walked to the door, taking a quick glance in the mirror as a he passed, pausing to lick his hand and smooth down a wayward whisker in his beard. He winked at the reflection and fired off an imaginary pistol with his finger.
He opened the door. There stood a tall figure in a black gown billowing in the breeze. A dark shadow was cast by the hood so no face could be seen and the sinister figure was holding a very large scythe. Dry ice emanating from a nearby pipe, swirled around the base of the figure.
Strange outfit for a second date, thought El Capitano, and I know I haven’t cut my grass for two weeks but it isn’t that long. He was just coming to the conclusion that the lady was bit weird, even for his standards, when the figure spoke.
“Are you El Capitano?”
Blimey, she’s more butch than I recall, thought El Capitano, but she’s obviously heard of my reputation though and I do like that deep voice, very dominating.
“Yes, I am El Capitano.”
“I’ve come for you and your team.”
Now I’m all for a bit of sharing but that’s a bit Premiership, even for me.
“Er, I thought it was just us? I’ve only cooked enough poussin for two.”
“I am Death.”
“Oh. Er….”
“I am not here for a dinner date.”
“Chess?”
“Ha ha – very amusing El Capitano. No. I’ve come for you and the Peckham Commoners.”
“I can’t tempt you with chess?”
“The bell has tolled El Capitano, your time is up.”
“Do you mind waiting just a second, my runner beans are simmering and they’re going to turn grey if I’m not careful.”
Before Death could answer, El Capitano shut the door and ran to the phone and rapidly dialled a number.
“Please pick up! Please pick up!”
The phone rang and rang and just when he was about to give up, a voice answered.
“Bonjour?”
“JP?”
“Oui?”
El Capitano relayed the story of recent attendance and the arrival of Death.
“Sacre bleu! Je retour tout suite!”
Except this was like waiting for a pass from JP or like the Monty Python and the Holy Grail scene when the charging knight coming to save the fair maiden doesn’t actually get any closer, similes that JP’s return is three months away (the fair maiden represents the Peckham Commoners – read into that what you will). But Death didn’t know this and after El Capitano had explained that the Peckham Commoners weren’t dead yet because aside from JP, more people would turn up soon. Ed’s done some scouting in the Congo, Matt has just played his last game of cricket of the season (they both chuckled when El Capitano quipped that Death must be quite busy during the cricket season with so many people dying of of boredom) and Jim keeps threatening to return from injury.
As Daniel’s date never showed up, they shared a tasty dinner of roasted poussin and a delectable cheese board. The fire crackled and just as an awkward silence was about to decend, El Capitano spoke….
“Chess?”
“Oh go on then…”
A rather long story to reflect the shadow of Peckham Commoners’ imminent demise if we don’t replace departees with new blood. And we all know that Ingmar Bergman’s game of chess was only a delaying tactic. Any ideas or suggestions welcome. Or you can just play more often and/or introduce new people. The subject of….(cough)…..I can’t physically say the word without a chill shivering down my back…..j……..joi…….(heave)….joining the two teams was actually suggested today, by both teams! I know we all have commitments/children/wives/injuries etc etc, but five of the last seven games have either been abandoned or an amalgamation of the two teams. The writing is on the wall.
The actual match report:
Red: Oz, Daniel, James, Arnie, Lee, Jonny, Zavier, Danny, Mohammed
Yellow: Tufan, Tim, Richard N, Liam, Rob, Tom, Alan, Phil, Prit
Six Peckham Commoners were literally just about to start a meagre three a-side (the start of which was only delayed by – yes, you’ve guessed it, the ins and outs of the one touch rule) when they invited us to make up the numbers for a nine-a-side game. I don’t have a footballing mind (Collective shock…No!) and so can’t do justice to the game. This week, it was the Red team who could pass and Yellow who couldn’t – a strange hangover from last week. Yellow played with two defenders and six attackers whilst Red opted for a three-four-one formation which unsurprisingly worked a treat. Red opened the scoring, Yellow were quick to reply but then Red romped away with the only response coming from another cock-up from Daniel in goal (they allow passbacks to be picked-up) and James somehow fumbled a shot he saved over the line. However, consistent good passing, attacks and defending from both these two and the rest of the team saved their blushes. Yellow became demoralised and the goals rolled in.
Final score: Red 9 – 3 Yellow
Red: James, Tufan, Richard N, Stuart, Daniel, Prit, Arnie
Yellow: Colin, John G, Keith, Oz, Alan, Phil, Danny
We had nine but only five hairdressers turned up so we joined forces, this time mixing up the teams to make a change from the usual adversarial head-to-heads. Teams were picked randomly but it soon became apparent that one team could pass and the other could not.
Danny got us started with a rocket from the right wing. No chance for the keeper. If you think Oz and Ahmet can fire off a thumper, watch out for this guy. Prit restored the balance soon after with a long hesitation trying decide which pass was on. There were none so he feinted one way, drop a shoulder and curled in a peach. Yellow then became rampant. Danny got another carbon-copy belter, Colin also dropped a shoulder to fire one in across the goal, Phil looped a shot over the keeper from the tightest of tight angles – he was pretty much in the corner. And Daniel had a torrid time, parrying a shot from Oz into the path of Danny who made no mistake. And then whilst defending he got in a fluster with Colin right behind him. His intention was to pass the ball hard back to the keeper hoping it to be hoofed out of danger. Sadly it was soft and inaccurate, rolling gently across the goal, teeing up a marauding attacker perfectly. What a howler! So whilst Red couldn’t pass for toffee, Yellow got a second, a third, a fourth, a fifth and a sixth. But then something stopped the flood – half-time!
The second half wasn’t much better for Red. Tufan fired over and empty goal when a loose ball landed at his feet. Although they had eventually some chances, collectively and individually Red had the worst game of the year, simple passing was beyond them. Yellow attacked at will and it was only some smug showboating that limited the damage. If fans had paid to come and watch them they would have expected a refund. Luckily for Red, no one came to watch the shambles. Did I mention they couldn’t pass?
Final score: Yellow 11 – 7 Red
Red: Tom, Alan, Arnie, Prit, ?, ? + 1 temporary extra (aka The Hairdressers)
Yellow: Oz, Ahmet, Tufan, John G, Stuart, Kevin, Daniel, (aka The Estate Agents)
On the Eid!
So El Capitano’s enthusiasm didn’t wash on many and just seven of us turned up in the heat so we offered to play the Hairdressers.
A slightly scrappy game with not much of note. Yellow scored first. I then got salty sweat in my eyes so didn’t see them equalise. We got ahead again only for them to pin us back once more. Frequent attempts at what would have been impressive defence-splitting passes were cut out regularly by both teams and the width of the pitch was used well with Tufan often making a ramadan the wing. Alan liked juggling while in goal. We were one man up until they took on a youngster in the latter part of the first half. He made an immediate impact by slotting in but by the break Yellow were already 5-2 up.
Thank you Oz for half-time popsicles. Sadly Daniel couldn’t figure out how to get into his, a fact mirrored on the pitch by his utter inability to figure out how to put the ball in the goal. Red were definitely up for it in the second half. They hajj lots of possession with Tom being the most effective man on the pitch, distributing all around but they couldn’t mecca work. We somehow limited their chances despite their passing superiority, Kevin resolute with ever-changing defensive staff around him. They ought to have punished us even more especially as they went a man up when Stuart’s ankle gave out early in the second half. This was only his third game of the last two years (he’s won all three), a long and intermittent recuperation. He looked like it was serious but we hope not – get well soon sir. Although Red should have restored at least some parity, they lost their impetus as the youngster departed mid-way through the second half as he was too knackered to carry on! Daniel missed a sitter, sorry two, make it three. Actually, I lost count. He was supported by Ahmet and Tufan who also impressed by their lack of killer instinct so double figures eluded us even though Tufan did eventually find the net. I think they thought we were taking the proverbial as one of them walked off to go home ten minutes before the end. But no, he just wanted to go home. He was persuaded to stay but you could feel they knew it was a lost cause. John G got on the score sheet too but Oz was on fire, islammed in at least 5!!!
Final score: Yellow: 8 – 3 Red
What? The Edinburgh Festival? You’re too kind.