Bowing to public pressure the story continues....
The begining of the story can be found here
Martin "3 halves and I'm off", living up to this weekends nickname and remember these are short halves, cleared off early having to attend a soirée. He's a bit posh of course (remember he's got white boots) so while we attend BBQ's he goes to soirées. I have an invite around to his for dinner in a couple of weeks and I'm already brushing up on my elocution
Phil "3 games no problem" did the decent thing and stuck around even putting himself in goal when no one volunteered.
There's an interesting phenomena with the Sunday league, which is particularly evident for pickup games, and that is that no one really wants to be in goal. Invariably 11 players trot out onto the pitch and when the refs demand that someone go in goal everyone just stands there. There's a peculiar skill, which I have almost perfected, which involves looking around but not catching anyone’s eye. If someone catches your eye you're almost obliged to go in goal. So what you get is a bunch of people standing around calling for someone to go in goal kinda staring down each other without directly looking at them. The best place to be standing is well away from the sidelines where the gear is - since you need to change shirts - and also not standing on your own. Hyenas, wolves, lions all pick on the lone antelope so stick with the pack friends or face the long walk between the sticks. Eventually one of two things happens: Either someone cracks and trudges into goal or someone on the sideline steps in. Of course when the latter happens we now have an extra player on field and the whole process starts over until someone leaves the field.
I digress of course, but the relevance comes from the fact that I cracked and spent 20 minutes seething at my own weakness since I only wanted one more half before going. Of course I only wanted an extra half since Martin distributed an email comparing this blokes performance in bed (less than 2 minutes and quite witty really) to my on field stamina.
The begining of the story can be found here
Martin "3 halves and I'm off", living up to this weekends nickname and remember these are short halves, cleared off early having to attend a soirée. He's a bit posh of course (remember he's got white boots) so while we attend BBQ's he goes to soirées. I have an invite around to his for dinner in a couple of weeks and I'm already brushing up on my elocution
Phil "3 games no problem" did the decent thing and stuck around even putting himself in goal when no one volunteered.
There's an interesting phenomena with the Sunday league, which is particularly evident for pickup games, and that is that no one really wants to be in goal. Invariably 11 players trot out onto the pitch and when the refs demand that someone go in goal everyone just stands there. There's a peculiar skill, which I have almost perfected, which involves looking around but not catching anyone’s eye. If someone catches your eye you're almost obliged to go in goal. So what you get is a bunch of people standing around calling for someone to go in goal kinda staring down each other without directly looking at them. The best place to be standing is well away from the sidelines where the gear is - since you need to change shirts - and also not standing on your own. Hyenas, wolves, lions all pick on the lone antelope so stick with the pack friends or face the long walk between the sticks. Eventually one of two things happens: Either someone cracks and trudges into goal or someone on the sideline steps in. Of course when the latter happens we now have an extra player on field and the whole process starts over until someone leaves the field.
I digress of course, but the relevance comes from the fact that I cracked and spent 20 minutes seething at my own weakness since I only wanted one more half before going. Of course I only wanted an extra half since Martin distributed an email comparing this blokes performance in bed (less than 2 minutes and quite witty really) to my on field stamina.
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