Only in the salubrious environs of Thames Ditton is it tolerable for a team of unexceptional middle-aged Men to call yesterday’s events successful.
The opposition, Old Meadonians, seemed UP for it enough. Arriving at least an hour before KO – they Zig zagged the hallowed Grists turf with an assortment of warm up drills lifted from TV-AMs workout with Lizzie.
The Tiffs Vets on the other hand were to be found dotted about the car park discussing the various discounts to be had on potted plants this time of year?
If match preparation amount to anything Old Meads landed the first blow before the referee had chance to put his whistle to mouth!
Autumn had arrived and an indifferent Tiffs cast their eyes over towards the opposition. “Bloody Schmucks”! Apathy then after the longest preseason had left the vast proportion of the squad knackered; broken and unsure.
All this was palpable enough until Senor Baile comes up with a masterplan after reading Alex Ferguson’s biography for the umpteenth time.
Under significant pressure after the last routing, Gaffer Baile did what Ferguson and all good Gaffers do when their Assistant Managers are absent of earshot or blame.
Carl (Carlos Queiroz) or plain Carl to friends, deep into a second week holiday on a desolate strip of Torremolinos. I suspect Carl was laughing into his beer after learning of last week’s events before layering up on lotion and his deep tan to wander aimlessly around a swimming pool with nothing but a cheap plastic football and a pair of Budgie Smugglers for company.
The Gaffer you see decided to use yesterday to introduce the little known “Block System”? After a life navigating the Footballing world this sounded new, intriguing, and mysterious. With an embarrassment of riches on the bench he decided to allow the Defense / Midfield & Attack to select their own 1st team and nominated time slots.
Heck we were in disarray now. The whistle….
Old Meads take the lead and playing horridly the Tiffs faithful looked for someone, anyone with blameworthy credentials. I settled on a strengthening wind as we struggled to get to grips with their number 11 who danced around the midfield like Gimli from Lord of the Rings.
What followed was something akin to a fightback.
I suppose Ben and Dave Smith ought to be mentioned at this point. Dave dashed down the right with a stepover so high that it wooed a linesman whilst simultaneously leap frogging over Gimli. Ben on the other hand was consistent throughout! He missed sitters in the first half then again in the second. A genuine nuisance throughout! At some-point however he sensed a growing distaste and a possible lynching from his own teammates before scoring a brace to seal a sketchy victory and a welcome 3 points.
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