Noble Nine's Narrow Nemesis
Books etc 2 : 0 Blue Badgers
10.30am Batesea Park. A mackeral sky and mists lies heavy over the
somulant Thames. Nine pairs of badgers eyes peer through it in the hope
of seeing at least one more of their collegues emerge. Vain hopes alas
as news filters through of the absent badgers. It is not good: Salmon,
pox ridden in his fetid pit, Whitey larging it up with c grade celebs,
and of Davies?( or mud as he has been renamed) Nada.
10.35 kick off. A 4:3:1 formation - the christmas tree, but spindley
and sparsly decorated - face the eleven bookworms. Immediately they are
under pressure as books pour forward. The Badgers defence bends and
sways, but does it break?Do lardy cheating geordies deserve to win FA
cup semi finals? No and no again. Asbury in the unfamiliar position of
left back is goaded and kicked but lets his boots reposte and lets
nothing by. New kid on the block - big John - strides Bourgiose like
up theh field and marshalls the defensive line like, er a line
marshall. Macdonald wears the captains armband for the first time and
leads by example: imperious in the air and on the deck anyone who tries
to get past him buys the farm. Ashman's passing and control make a good
argument for the formation of a Badgers c team but he is in there
harrying. Four hardbacks.
Books are caught repeatedly off side and the cat in a fit of boredom
decides to spice things up by passing directly to a Books attacker. An
audacious lob and Books start celebrating but it is a celebration a la
Rapson verus Rough Guides for even as the first cheers go up so does the
cat, arching back, whipping out an arm, and palming the ball over the
bar. This was one page the bookworms would not turnover.
But lady luck is a painted strumpet and as books attacked again their
forward shaped to shoot right but violently miscued and the ball ended
up in the left hand corner of the net. The bookworms had turned.
But lady luck is a painted strumpet and as books attacked again their
forward shaped to shoot right but violently miscued and the ball ended
up in the left hand corner of the net. The bookworms had turned.
Badgers fight back as plucky Oliver ploughing a lonely furrow up front
throws himself into the fray and lobs the keeper with a header. The
keeper gets back and he is cruelly denied The badgers trudge in at half
time 1 ; 0 down.
Second half and not to flout tradition the badgers spend the next 10
minutes demonstrating that the place for headless chickens is the
resturant not the football pitch. They are kept in the game by a
savetastic point blank stop by the cat at the end of an unseemly goal
mouth struggle.
But rumours of the Badgers demise had it seems been premature and a
textbook fight back begins. Duncan Wilkie - a thorwback from an unholy
alliance between two of Englands finest swimmers - dives in and
repeatedly emerges with the ball leaving a trail of wailing books
unbound. Baker - whose resemblence to another black and white striped
mid- week mid field Man united tormentor has been well noted - ran with
guile and sprayed passes about by the dozen!
And where did the passes end up? On the cultured tootsies of Razor
Rapson. Shorn of his goalfinding shackles he made merry on the right
wing swivelling and nutmegging like it was christmas. In this he was
abley supported by the shiny new macrobiotic non smoking Ashman. His new
fitness scheme beginning to bear dividends as he marauds up and down the
field at will. "If he can learn to do that with a football it could
cause real problems" commented one wise pundit.
How would you like your goals sir? Scrambled please. And it was nearly
thus as relentless Badgers pressure culiminates in a stinging attack as
Baker bursts through passes to Rapson who glides a cross in. The ball
richochetts around as if porpelled by Tommy the pinball wizard, arriving
at the feet of Wilkie who defty flicks it over the flailing Books
keeper. Goalbound? But not a goal as it is headed over the bar by the
Books captain.
Could this pressure last?
Nope.
The badgers began to tire, and Books etc - a team whose members seem to
share a profound distaste for each other started to gain the upper hand.
Gaps appeared in the Badgers ragged flanks and through one of these a
bookworm slithered, progressed into the box and finished clinically.
2:0 to books and that is how it remained but no shame for it was a
valiant effort and now we can go forward and beat the team whose name
will always be associated with Cuckow clocks and dubious nightime
alliances: Swiss Cottage.
Glyn.
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