Another weekend, another tomfoolerous short-notice away fixture for the mighty SBA. This time it was off to sunny Leicester for a fixture with the Foxes. Bob Wood contacted me early in the week to ask if we wanted a game after Derby had cancelled, and the rest was just a matter of finding players. After a particularly gruelling recruitment drive, we managed to turn out our biggest squad of the season and, in fair weather at Leicester Police HQ, we lined up thusly:
Croftsy Britney Steve Digger Banjo John Mc Lanie Joe Dan Pete Sam Subs: Tim David Fin Ian
Just to summarise the less familiar names there: Croftsy in goal has actually played for the Crewe internet team, but we poached him. Top lad, handy keeper. Sam up front is my erstwhile next door neighbour who played for us at the Leicester 7s. Hobbies include scoring goals and taking ages to get showered in the morning. Ian on the bench (figuratively speaking, there were benches but they weren't generally used) is Banjo's mate and a Grimsby fan. Boo!
The early play was disrupted by the unusual event of someone losing their glasses. You certainly don't see this sort of thing in the Premiership. Except maybe the Daventry Municipal Plumbing Sunday Premiership. Or the Bells Scottish Premiership, at a push.
Anyway, glasses retrieved and restored to their rightful owner, battle commenced. The Foxes were blessed with two very quick, skillful lads up front. In the early stages, their midfield looked to get the ball to them as much as possible and they came close on a number of occasions forcing several solid saves from Croftsy and one outstanding one, as he dived low to one side and palmed the ball up over the bar.
Meanwhile, we were moving the ball up the flanks pretty well and got several good overlapping moves going, which were usually punctuated by some wayward shooting. After posing a moderate threat to the Foxes goal, we went ahead after some midfield tomfoolery led to the ball reaching Pete up front. The hungover striker darted down the left-hand side of the area, before releasing a killer pass which left keeper and defenders stranded and Sam with the gratifying prospect of an unguarded net. 1-0.
Halftime arrived, along with a few words of encouragement by Tim, who was still shocked by the fact that he was actually going to have to make some substitutions. On came Dave for Digger at the back, Ian for Banjo on the right and Fin for Pete up front. Tim opted to keep himself under wraps for the time being; if not a secret weapon, then certainly at least a weapon.
The second half started well: we put together three touches before the ball came sailing back through, me and Steve having left it to one another, and gave one of their pacy front men a clear run in on goal. Croftsy was finally beaten by a very good shot and Tim must have been reaching for the valium.
Having held out under some heavy pressure in the first half, it was bloody irritating to concede such a soft goal, but we plodded along with the game, still looking to use the wide spaces and had probably most of the play. Our differentials were restored when John McCutch laid the ball off on the edge of their area and I put my foot through it to claim a landmark 40th SBA goal, hence the rather over-exuberant celebration.
Although the Foxes battled hard to get back in the game, we continued to pressurise with the wind at our backs. Lanie struck the woodwork with a brilliant left-footed drive from the edge of their area, as well as having a free kick tipped onto the upright by their goalie. Ian also went close after a move up the left involving me, Dave and John: the ball arrived in the middle, Sam laid it off and Ian narrowly missed the post. We then had a bit of a scare when Lanie produced a brilliant turn in the centre circle, only to be clattered by the bemused opposing midfielder. Unintentional certainly, but Lanie didn't look too comfortable. After a bit of reverse psychology ("You'd better go off Lanie, you don't want to risk it..."), the Inca Llama sprang back to his feet, evidently intent on playing out the 90 minutes.
Leicester now pushed hard, looking for the equaliser, the dangers of which were illustrated when Steve pelted the ball over the top for Sam to run onto. The frisky debutant took his time, before driving a ferocious shot beyond the Foxes keeper. A very well taken goal and one which eased the pressure on us.
We still attacked gamely and Edwin came very close to a collector's item goal when the keeper tipped his powerful header onto the underside of the bar. The errant sweeper reacted swiftly to the rebound, but was swamped by a horde of Leicester players.
By now both teams were tiring and the final whistle was quite a relief when it arrived. A good victory for the Sky Blues and I had the additional catharsis of tipping a bottle of iced water down John's back in the shower.
Which leaves us the formality of this week's Shooters and Rooterstm, as nominated by Peter Borough-Myton. Our shooter was probably always going to be Croftsy, since his attendance obviated the need for Pete to go in goal, although he also put in an outstanding performance. Some great saves and pretty unlucky not to keep a clean sheet. Meanwhile, Tim finds himself in familiar territory, being, as he is, this week's rooter for not even bothering to play. A second dishonourable mention of the season for the fledgling manner. If he gets rooter a third time, we'll put him on a sex offender's register. Or something.
Anyway, that's your lot. It's Sunday morning and my head is bastard well killing me.