COWHC Men's 1s vs Andover Men's 1s - 12th November 2016

9am: I woke up bright and early to the sounds of birds tweeting on the trees outside my window. The first rays of morning sunshine were beginning to stream in through the gaps in my curtains. What a lovely day for a trip to Andover.
I rolled over to check my phone. That’s strange, my phone has got the day wrong. It’s saying Frid………...
24 hours later…
9am: I’m so excited. It’s finally here. Saturday. It may be raining, cold and all-round utterly miserable weather, but it’s still my favourite day of the week. I get to see all my friends. I bet they can’t wait to see me. I can’t wait to see them. I miss them all so much. God I’m excited. And we’re getting a train. I love trains. And we’re getting lashed on the way back. I love getting lashed. Christ I can’t wait. Let’s go.
10am: I arrive at Clapham Junction with ma bruver from an Aryan muver, Big P ‘Daddy No’ Henthorne. We strut through the station. First impressions are key. There are bare juicy yats around here. I know they’re all checking me out, and who can blame them – I’m so good looking!
I see my friends on the platform. I get nervous when I see them. I want them to like me. I need their acceptance and brotherly reassurance. I know what will make them like me… lots of terrible jokes. Continuously. For the next 9 hours. It always works. My life motto is “Disputatio stercore, sed non stercore disputatio” which is Latin for “chat shit, but never shit chat”. And so, I begin.
Unfortunately, God was not shining down on us today. Apparently South West trains don’t particularly like rain, and despite Nicky Christ (our saviour, Amen) politely asking his daddy to make things better, it didn’t look like we’d be getting the train to Andover. But fear not, surely my captain Feebs can use his classic boyish charm, normally saved for Hampshire umpires, to see if the platform supervisor can… oh no wait he’s coming back with his tail between his legs.
12pm: I’m in the back of a dilapidated baby blue ford focus bouncing around the M25. The car isn’t bouncing, it’s me. I’m so excited. I LOVE road trips with the lads. The team has decided to split and make our way to Andover by car. Apart from a slight hiccup of Henners’ car not starting, which was solved by us attempting to pushstart it whilst Nicky Christ prayed, we are making good speed towards Andover. Henners is telling us how Sprinklr is still hiring (presumably still desperate to find someone willing to work with Foley and Henners) , Nicky is apologising to every car we overtake, Mark is explaining the differences between the retractable landing gear configurations of a Boeing 737 compared to an Airbus A320, Belly is daydreaming about the hot shower and free meal he’ll get after the match, and I’m having a serious bout of verbal diarrhoea.
1.30pm: Push back. The moment I look forward to every week. However, the enjoyment of starting the match this week was hindered somewhat by A) only half the team being present and B) Foley thinking that this temporary player shortage was the perfect excuse to beat his previous record for oldest CROWs 1XI player. Thus, adding an extra year to the target that Cheesman and Drury have set their sights on. We decided to wait for the remaining half of our team to arrive by giving Andover 10 minutes of short corner practice. None of which they managed to convert thanks to the mighty Collard for making an extraordinary goal line clearance. God I love Collard. He’s such a good friend of mine. In fact, I’d go as far as saying he’s my best friend. Shame it doesn’t appear to be reciprocated.
1.40pm: The rest of the team arrived in Chris’ pedal go-kart. It was so good to see them again! I missed them so much! Feebs was so horrified to see Foley in full kit and ‘playing’ that he ran onto the pitch without his stick. And so, with the whole team reunited it was time to unleash the shoeing. Collard was relieved of left-back duties and sent forwards to join me. Together we began double teaming to penetrate Andover’s rear defence. Together we proved a deadly combo as after a few unsuccessful attempts, Collard drew the keeper in and promptly slid the ball across for me to deflect in. 1-0. Yay. I love hockey. Dom who?
2.00pm: As a team, we often like to make a match slightly more challenging for ourselves otherwise it gets a bit monotonous shoeing teams all the time. As already mentioned we started with half a team, but after scoring we could see it was going to become too easy. Therefore, our defence decided to gift Andover a counter-attacking chance which they converted surprisingly well with a reverse stick shot across the goal into the bottom corner. I distinctly remember Chaundy lifting his left leg up to let it in. Such a sporting chap.
2.10pm: And so, after 40 minutes, we went into half time at 1-1. You’re probably wondering if I meant 40 minutes but I do. The mystery of the extra 5 minutes, which happened again in the second half, was solved when it was spotted that the umpire had an Automatic watch. These such devices are charged by wrist/hand movement (particularly in an up and down motion), and looking at the umpire in question clearly indicated that he had not recharged his watch in a very long time.
2.15pm: The second half began and the shoeing of Andover recommenced. A period of heavy pressure was eventually rewarded by my best friend, Mark, who scored a delightful goal to prove that he is actually useful to the team. I would like to take this opportunity to apologise unreservedly for stealing his goal on the goal line in the match vs. Winchester on the 8th of October 2016. Feebs added to the tragic demise of Andover by slotting home the slowest dragflick in Surrey/Hamp Div 2 history to make it 3-1. With the victory now conclusively in the bag, we decided to be sporting gentlemen and give Andover another 10 minutes of short corner practise to see if they could score one this time. Eventually, on the 6th time of asking, they managed to bundle the ball over the line. Again, I am certain I saw Chaundy let it go in on purpose. He really is such a nice guy. 3-2.
2.50pm: With five minutes left to go, Benjy was teasing the Andover defence just outside of their D. Finally he got bored, and having previous bad experiences of shooting at goal, decided to feed the ball across to me on the P spot. I did a naughty left right V drag and dashed around the now immobilised goalkeeper. It was all going so well and then I pathetically pushed the ball into the goal. It was such a disappointing finish that no one else had the heart to poach my goal and so left it to trickle over the line. At least I did finish this time – often the girl has to finish by herself.
And so to conclude. The match finished 4-2 to the mighty CROWs. I had another great day out with my friends. I can’t wait for Wednesday to see my friends again. South West trains are shit. Henners’ car is shit. My chat is shit. And I’m going to be so lonely without my bae Mark.
The end.
DOD – Mark (myself) for going to Spain for 3 months in the middle of the season.
MOM – Chaundy for doing what he’s supposed to do as a Goalkeeper.