My game scaled new heights this morning. Those heights being somewhere near the bottom of barrel. You reach those heights after stumbling through total uncoordination, by-passing reading the game and taking a quick stop at misdirected passes totally stuffing up your teammates. It's a one way trip but caught early enough detours can be put in place. My remedy is to get off the field - smartish like. The technical term is 'having a mare' and I was having it bad.
When I did come off we were 2 - 1 down and in what seemed like total disarray at the back. Martin got the assist for our goal so that gave him license to bellow at everyone else who committed the mortal sin of not reading his mind. I reckon the ball should be spread wide, he wants to play it through the middle. So I tear off down the wing and watch the inch perfect passes get threaded through the middle to the opposing defenders. Nice.
The morning started well enough and Martin and I were in high spirits with the topic of the week - cougars - being discussed on the trip to the match. We've been cougar watching all week and whilst we've not descended/ascended to the devotion levels of twitchers we've been pretty dedicated.
I should have known things wouldn't go so well because during warm up I played a pass across the circle that managed to graze Ali's manhood. I say graze but given that Ali recoiled back five feet and the ball shot off in the opposite direction - I've understated the damage I've done to his potential family tree. Don't worry mate - adoption is still an option.
Anyway I come back on near the end of the first half and slot in as stopper and after a few simple passes that actually worked I'm starting to feel better about life. The second half started and I was ambling towards taking up a midfield position. The team insisted I went up front with Phil, who had turned out for us. Probably felt sorry for us after last week. So there we were up front - the classic little and large combination. Crouch and Owen, Abbot and Costello, Hartson and Wrighty, Morecombe and Wise etc etc.
The teams insistence that I go up front was less attributed to my goal last week, nor to my general forward play, rather, with damage limitation in my mind. Smart move as it turned out as we levelled after about 5 minutes when I crossed for Ali to knock it in. Stevie Wonder could have scored from that cross - it was laid on a plate. We took the lead 10 minutes later after another cross to Ali (for his hat-trick) that he completely mucked up so Ronnie rolled it in for him. With 5 minutes to goal I played a quick short corner to Martin who whipped it in and in the resulting panic after some head tennis we got our fourth. I've been yelling for us to take corners and free kicks quickly and now feel totally vindicated.
Technically I could claim 2 1/2 assists and Martin 1 1/2 but it could have been so much better. Phil played an awesome ball down the line to me with just one defender to beat. I skinned him and barrelled towards the left side of the goal. The keeper came out so I shot early and watched in agony as it hit the base of the post and go out for a goal kick. Another from 18 yards, after Ronnie laid it back to me, would have ripped the net out except it was high and wide to the right. Rush of blood and all that. Still 4 -2 is a good mornings work and the boots keep on doing the business.
When I did come off we were 2 - 1 down and in what seemed like total disarray at the back. Martin got the assist for our goal so that gave him license to bellow at everyone else who committed the mortal sin of not reading his mind. I reckon the ball should be spread wide, he wants to play it through the middle. So I tear off down the wing and watch the inch perfect passes get threaded through the middle to the opposing defenders. Nice.
The morning started well enough and Martin and I were in high spirits with the topic of the week - cougars - being discussed on the trip to the match. We've been cougar watching all week and whilst we've not descended/ascended to the devotion levels of twitchers we've been pretty dedicated.
I should have known things wouldn't go so well because during warm up I played a pass across the circle that managed to graze Ali's manhood. I say graze but given that Ali recoiled back five feet and the ball shot off in the opposite direction - I've understated the damage I've done to his potential family tree. Don't worry mate - adoption is still an option.
Anyway I come back on near the end of the first half and slot in as stopper and after a few simple passes that actually worked I'm starting to feel better about life. The second half started and I was ambling towards taking up a midfield position. The team insisted I went up front with Phil, who had turned out for us. Probably felt sorry for us after last week. So there we were up front - the classic little and large combination. Crouch and Owen, Abbot and Costello, Hartson and Wrighty, Morecombe and Wise etc etc.
The teams insistence that I go up front was less attributed to my goal last week, nor to my general forward play, rather, with damage limitation in my mind. Smart move as it turned out as we levelled after about 5 minutes when I crossed for Ali to knock it in. Stevie Wonder could have scored from that cross - it was laid on a plate. We took the lead 10 minutes later after another cross to Ali (for his hat-trick) that he completely mucked up so Ronnie rolled it in for him. With 5 minutes to goal I played a quick short corner to Martin who whipped it in and in the resulting panic after some head tennis we got our fourth. I've been yelling for us to take corners and free kicks quickly and now feel totally vindicated.
Technically I could claim 2 1/2 assists and Martin 1 1/2 but it could have been so much better. Phil played an awesome ball down the line to me with just one defender to beat. I skinned him and barrelled towards the left side of the goal. The keeper came out so I shot early and watched in agony as it hit the base of the post and go out for a goal kick. Another from 18 yards, after Ronnie laid it back to me, would have ripped the net out except it was high and wide to the right. Rush of blood and all that. Still 4 -2 is a good mornings work and the boots keep on doing the business.
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