KELLY'S WELLY BEATS THE BELLY IN BADGER RAMPAGE
Blue Badgers (1) 2 Energy! FC (0) 0
Oliver 40, Kelly 65
The children and screaming girls at Hackney Marshes clamoured round the changing rooms. "Are you THE Blue Badgers?" they yelled in chorus. "Yes, we are" growled a grisled Panther sternly, "But no autographs today kids, we've got a job to do – and girls just leave us alone this once". And so the team rushed into the changing rooms, brushing aside the adoring fans and groupies. Harsh, but necessary as the Badgers, on the back of two dreadful games, faced a test of their grit against a team two places above them, Energy FC. A team who came. Who played. And who left with a lesson in what energy actually is as the Badgers battled like caterpillars coming out of a cocoon, culminating in a butterfly of a goal from the irrepressible Kelly in his irresistible flannelette purple pantaloons.
It was far from plain sailing though, despite a wind that yachtsmen dream about.
A wind that howled across the marshes and up into players' shorts chapping their inner thighs - did that happen to everybody?. But these Badgers didn't huddle back into their burrows. Gone with Wind? Oh no. Frankly, my dear Energy, the Badgers don't give a damn. In a style reminiscent of England's 4-1 Euro. '96 thrashing of Holland, the Blues soaked up the pressure from an enthusiastic but naïve Energy team with ease. The experience of the Badgers proved to be formidable (yes, despite their boysband goodlooks, average age is 31) with the defence once again putting on a display confirming their status as the best back 5 in the league.
Kings Head Alan commanded his box, hung onto crosses like Jesus and punched the ball like Tyson off sedatives. Awesome. Bourgeois charging forward, oblivious to the click, click clicking of the worlds press photographers, was feeding the front Rio Ferdinand style. Ashman, soaring down the right, adding another dimension to this new attacking Badger style in which the class of the mighty McDonald was there for all to see. Faultless, skilful and powerful, this Badger of the Match took everything and distributed with Godspeed to a midfield that dominated the day.
A midfield of demon tackles and angel skill.
Rayner, yellow carded for a shameful stud showing tackle was the same Rayner who passed with precision and sprinted forward to hit a ball at full stretch just over the bar with an agility eastern European teenage gymnasts strive for. Panther, ticked off for a double footed, bone-crunching lunge at their left back (his comment? "You may be sorry, but that got my bones") Gazza style after a pathetic possession losing pass, was the same Panther who tackled perfectly throughout and mercilessly skinned their defence with a regularity deserving correspondence with Hannibal Lecter.
Thank heaven there was a consistent, calming element in the engine room in the shape of Baker in his light blue flannelette pantaloons (what is going on?). This Scot gave away nothing as you'd expect, held the midfield together and made penetrating, passionate runs. One glorious move saw him linking up with Panther. The feline heartthrob beat one man down the right and then cut inside to feed Baker who stampeded into the box, cannily took the ball, tempting the penalty foul but was tackled at the last. The spirit was superb and ran through the team, as shown by slippery Salmon, on for the last 15, his darting runs and commitment tackling back stank of Badger – a marked improvement on his trademark cheap quasi designer aftershave.
For all the moves and invention the Badgers still, as ever, couldn't hit the net. Captain for the day, the newly engaged, ever dependable and highly vocal Ben Brocklehurst came close with a corner that nearly went straight in – it would've beaten Steve James. Panther's 25 yard bicycle kick narrowly missed the target. Rapson hit a stinging volley, well it stung the Energy defenders back. But it took a touch of comic genius for the first half stalemate to be broken. A tactical switch saw Purple Pantaloons swan over to the right and Panther prowl over to the left. A managerial move that must put a new name on the England Manager contender's list for within seconds a goal resulted. Ball kicked out by their Fat Cat No 1 bobbled around and went to the Pokerface Assassin, Oliver. Picking his spot, he hit it hard one yard past the keeper's right hand post. A strange spot to pick you may think but that's why you're in sitting in your 9-5 office job and Pokerface Assassin is an international fussballer (5 starts – 4 goals, flippin' heck Tucker). The keeper flubbered down and stopped the ball going for a goalkick and skilfully juggled it on the floor, over his head, round his M25 stomach, along the goal-line and into the net.
Fattastic.
In any other game this would've been the highlight but the 65th minute, again after another midfield switch, saw a nettrembler. As you'd expect, it started with Tiger Rayner feeding the hamstring strained Kelly. Cruising past the Energy leftback he looked up, saw that Teletubby keeper was only 5'5", weighed 16 stone and thought "why not shoot into the corner rather than chip it into his hands – not that anyone would do that, or maybe they would, best ask Rapson and include in the sentence 'open goal'". Kelly picked his spot and unleashed a cannonball, Hotshot Hamish shot just inside the area. The net rippled as did the keepers stomach. And a then a deathly 10-second silence. No one could quite believe it, especially the Blue Badgers who know Kelly. But it was a goal of outstanding class that has gone down as the best in Badger history (by some one in purple flannelette pantaloons at least).
But for how long will this goal stand as the best? The Badgers are rampant and may god have mercy on their next victims… the dreaded archrivals Euromonitor.
Now then, where were those groupies?
20.2.99 Team
Kings Head Alan Keeper
Glyn Ashman Right Back
Mark Bourgeois Centre Back
Lee McDonald Centre Back
Ben Brocklehurst Left Back
Steve Baker Central Midfield
Tony Rayner Central Midfield
Jon Kelly Left/Right Midfield
Matt Brocklehurst Right/Left Midfield
Sion Rapson Striker
Tim Oliver Striker
Dom Salmon Sub for Oliver (72)
Return home