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Red (4): Richard P, Oz, Jim N, Darren
Yellow (4): Paul, Ahmet, Daniel, Jim M

Sunny, rather warm.
Five waited. And hoped. Much like a Sergio Leone film, the camera went from one face to next, the suspense growing as the clock ticked on. Would there be a game?  Suspicious eyes flicked from one person to the next, mistrust building. Why had we come? Who’d let us down? Was that a squeaky metal windmill adding to the uneasiness? No, it was Jim N on his bike cycling out of the haze, dodging the tumbleweed. Game ON! Oz looked up from under his wide brimmed stetson, a grin of satisfaction relieving the tension and the hitherton unseen half-withdrawn revolvers were carefully eased back into the holsters by their sweaty-handed and nervous owners. And just when we’d settled on three a-side, Paul and Ahmet appeared from opposite ends of the park. Huzzah – we believed!
Teams were decided on dividing the Darren/Ahmet height. Quite even we thought. However, Yellow pulled away to a 6-1 lead. Then it settled a bit. The first half entertainment was provided by Darren’s goalkeeping juggling act. Red finally figured out a response and with Yellow suggesting a change of teams at half time, Jim N completed his hatrick using the same move each time (nutmeg and run) and helped Red go into the break at a more respectable 7-4 down.
They came out fighting too, taking advantage of Yellow nonchalance and pulled it back to 7-6. In response, Yellow teased…8-6, 9-6, 9-7, 10-7, 11-7, 11-8, 12-8, 12-9…always keeping a couple of goals to the good, despite several wayward shots from both teams. Second half entertainment was provided by a toddler walking onto the pitch wanting to play, ball, flag – anything would do. The nearest adult denied any association with halfpint and it took at least a minute of shouting out into the park “Is this anyone’s child?” before someone claimed him. Yellow were marginally better with their passing and Red finally succumbed in the last 10 minutes. Oz comfortably held onto a bouncing through ball/shot but contrived to spill it two seconds later. Daniel snapped at the chance and slotted home.  Red hope evaporated in the heat and the floodgates opened.
A slightly flattering result at the final whistle, however I think everyone scored and ’twas a pleasant morning.

Final score: Yellow 17 – 10 Red

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