SBA FC 2-1 Leicester Foxes

Glory of glories, the long-awaited SBA home game finally came to pass. As we've had five home fixtures cancelled this season, it turns out that our long-overdue first game at the MSA is also going to be our last, since they're redeveloping it in a few weeks' time.

Thanks to expert directions provided by my good self, the opposition arrived in good order (apart from one stray rooter who'd ended up at the train station, probably having come on a train. I don't recall recommending that.) The SBA were also fairly prompt for once, and after a spot of pitch-inspection tomfoolery, we lined up on the hard, uneven surface of pitch three thusly:

Digger took the first watch on the sidelines, Russ reffed the first half and Ross, even more damningly, was nominated to play for the opposition, who were a man short. Martin spent most of the first fifteen minutes trying to kick him.

I think both sides were initially set on the idea of hitting each other on the break, which meant that the ball got hoofed back and forth a fair bit, but neither side managed to get much support up to their strikers. The uneven surface gave both teams a few scares and it was one particularly treacherous bobble which took the ball past our sweeper, Steve, for (surprise surprise) Ross to mince onto and open the scoring with a driven shot inside Pete's near post.

Horrified by this act of South London treachery (after we thought we'd washed our hands of the rooter) the SBA struck back like a team of overweight, sky-blue alcoholics striking back. After a tomfoolerously improvised short corner, a luke-warm ball into the box was made to look red-hot by reluctant striker Simon Fahy, who darted into the near post area to nod the ball home.

Better was to follow from the self-proclaimed centre half. A sweeping (I kid you not) SBA move up the pitch led to David receiving the ball in the area with his back to goal. With deadly accuracy, he turned and floated the ball across the six-yard box with the celebrated Beidas left peg, onto Simon's head for another deft finish. Somewhere between the two goals, Tim decided he'd seen enough and substituted himself for Digger, in order to prepare his half-time address.

At the break, we reclaimed Ross from the opposition, and put him on the right-flank. We gave the Foxes Martin, who was starting to smell and Gav volunteered for a stint of refereeing.

The mighty SBA started to develop a better shape in the early stages of the second half, and forced a number of chances from setpieces. Another short corner and Mick's stylish delivery into the box was attacked by Russ, but the retractable neck betrayed him at the last instant as he crashed his header against the bar. Simon had a potential hat-trick goal cleared off the line and John missed a sharp chance from close range after the ball had ricocheted across the six-yard box.

It was far from one-way traffic, though: the uneven pitch caused a lot of stray passes and both sides worked hard and kept the tempo of the game high. Pete was finally called upon to show his class in goal with ten minutes remaining: the ball broke loose in the SBA box and the Leicester forward's well-struck shot brought a diving save out of "The Startled Cat". Whilst this was going on, a train was thundering past behind the goal, which made the whole incident rather spookily like watching a silent film.

Dave took a stint of reffing just before the end, but the excitement was all but over. The SBA held on for a hard-fought victory. It could have been more, but- equally- the Foxes could have nicked a goal as well.

Next up, I asked Mr Borough-Myton for this week's Shooters and Rooters^tm: "Only one shooter, mate- Simon. Two great goals." And Rooter? "You are, you bloody rooter." Rather galling, but I was probably overdue a nomination. I eased the pain by emptying a bucket of cold water over Ross in the shower for scoring a Judas goal.

As a footnote, I'd like to thank Orca for sorting the pitch out for us and Russ for all his help keeping things shipshape on the day.