Lobbed From The Halfway Line

Latymer Vets home to Southgate (Walkers) lost 0-4

2012-01-24T14:44:00.000-08:00

Terrible.

I could just leave this weeks post at that one single solitary word and it would do just about enough to sum up everything that took place on Sunday morning.

It's tempting to just leave it at that but I guess I should grit my teeth and plough on in true blog spirit.

I will make a brief mention for time line purposes that with no Vets game the week before I got asked to play for the 3rd XI on the Saturday. Regulars will know that I'm on a mission now to play for every Latymer team in one season so it was great to add this 'cap' to my collection. Run-outs for the 1st, 2nd and 5th elevens prior to this one had resulted in defeats all round and with no wins for the Vets either this term, I hoped for more joy with these boys. Alas, we were stuffed 8-1 and I'm starting to worry that I'm the common denominator! The 3rd's were a great set of lads but I must admit did lack any real cutting edge. I let in eight so clearly didn't have a decent game either! So I'm waiting eagerly for a chance with the 4th XI before the season's out so I can complete my set. I'll keep you posted.

Back to this week and a home tie against Walkers of Southgate. Odd name - I wondered if they were from the crisp factory or something. Apparently they've undergone a name change in recent times. One might of thought they'd have gone for something a bit more' footbally'...

We had good numbers in terms of personnel too and it was nice to see the likes of Nipper, Phibsey and AK back. Still no Jurgen though!! Poor Nick still can't run but was on the sidelines gee-ing the boys up as usual. Lev chose not to strip-up this week, opting for more of the Mancini role, complete with coat and scarf.

Mark as ever slotted in at left back with Wrexy back too this week on the right. Codz and Scottish John completed our back four, playing behind a midfield of Nipper, Dino and Jonesy who had a brand new centre midfield partner as we welcomed Mark Jones to the club.

This caused a bit of a stir before the game because Mark, apparently, used to play for Southampton!

Lev broke the news to me before the game (I'm always the first to arrive - too keen!!) but played it down because "it was only one game, but I have it on good authority that he did definitely play for Saints first team." I was suitably impressed. So was everyone else.....

Paul and Sully started up front to complete our line up with AK and Phibsey starting on the bench. Matty got his boots on too, I think more test the ankle than anything else. He didn't end up coming on but it gave us all a lift to see him back so soon after that nasty twist. Maybe it was wise not to put it to the test just yet - we'd have all hated for him to any damage so soon.

When I said terrible at the very start of this post, it wasn't in an attempt to be negative or nasty, but I'll say it again - that really is the only way to describe how we started the game. We really didn't get going at all and allowed them to put us under unnecessary pressure. Walkers are a good team and have some very useful players but we did ourselves no favours at all.

We went 1-0 down from a sloppy corner. The ball flew over from my right after an initial clearance and met their chaps flicked header. The ball flew past me before I even has a chance to get moving. The game was only five minutes old but I genuinely think that killed us. We had no response. No answer. I was gutted that we just couldn't find our feet.

We were having a bad day at the office - made worse on ten minutes when a wee mix up at the back (the Scotsman held his hands up very quickly for the error) allowed their player to pull the ball onto his right foot to drive it low and hard past my diving left hand. 2-0 and it felt like we'd been punched - as it turns out the punch was to come later on!

Then the fun and games started. Walkers have a bit of a reputation for being quite rough and more than a little physical. Our boys were getting properly but fairly stuck in and there was more than one or two crunching tackles that made me think we might be able to get ourselves back into the match. Then Codz made a bit of a late one across the back of the legs of their number seven and this was the first in a series of farcical incidents involving their man. Number seven was a big bulky chap with no hair who looked more like a boxer than a footballer (are you picking up on the sub-text yet folks?) but to be fair he was a very good player. It turns out he's a fireman as he even had his own fan-club from the brigade down complete with big shiny fire engine! So I guess we'll have to call him Fireman Sam. But my my - what a temper. Poor Codz tried to apologise but Fireman Sam simply wouldn't have it. He wanted to fight Codz there and then. I mean he was losing it mega quickly. I haven't seen anything like it for ages - certainly not at Vets level. He eventually calmed down and our wall did their job at blocking the free-kick

Lasty and Lasty was trying to tell him off etc. In the end the Ref had no choice but to order him off the pitch into the 'sin bin' for five minutes to cool off. Oh the joys of Vets football - we have rugby style sin bins for stroppy players! In a friendly league like ours I think it is a good idea but generally the game is played in the right spirit that you never see any problems anyway. Certainly not red cards....(oh yes, I'm getting to that!)

With no Fireman Sam they were down to ten men for five minutes but it wasn't long enough to give us a chance to take advantage. We did get the ball in the back of the net in the first half but that was ruled off-side. Another ugly incident in the scramble to get the ball in saw Sully have his hand stamped on by another one of them. I've never seen him so angry. I thought Sully was going to kill him!

Before the break there was another foray in to our box as Walkers threatened to score again. Their player danced around two of ours and just touched it heavily enough for me to dash out and make a diving point blank smother as he shot on goal. Pleasing as ever to make the save. Like I always say - saves breed confidence.

In spite of our poor show we were only two down at half time and knew that we if we could get a break we'd be back in the game. Phibsey came on for Nipper and we certainly made an improved effort as a team into the second half. We didn't get out of third gear the whole game but we did carve out two ideal chances to score and draw level, firstly as Paul created an opportunity for himself by nut-megging two of their lads and leaving them for dead before firing straight at the Keeper in a one-on-one, and then Phibsey did the same thing not long after when it seemed easier to score.

Turning points? Who can say but 2-2 makes it a different story.

Frustratingly, we shot ourselves in the foot as Codz tried to usher out the ball for a throw only for their winger to nick it off him and fire it accross for their striker to pull it away from a flying tackle to smash it past me.

I'll make a mention of my only other moment of goalkeeping glory - we were cut open down our left and Fireman Sam feinted a shot but instead passed it to his mate. I scrambled accross and got a foot on a point blank shot to send it wide. A good stop.

Not long after it was 4-0. Fireman Sam stayed level enough to beat the offside trap to recieve the ball and knock it past me as were were one-on-one. We were dead. Buried.

AK had come on for Scottish John before their fourth goal and Fireman Sam and he had what it seems were a series of minor clashes. Nothing serious and nothing to get het up over. But this is Fireman Sam we're talking about, he of sin-bin shame and fiery temper. AK wasn't going to get involved in a slagging match so chose just to laugh at him. That's right Constant Reader, laugh. Not swear or spit or insult or hit. Laugh.

This was enough though to send Fireman Sam bonkers. He wanted to hit AK and do him a bit serious damage. He even took his shirt off! I honestly thought it was going to kick off and ran all the way to the halfway line where it was taking place, not cos I'm a hero but all for one and all that...

Thankfully someone did step in front of the Fireman but in my opinion, his team didn't do anywhere near enough to calm him down. Maybe they were shit scared of him too. Eventually, the Ref had no choice but to actually pull out the red card and send him off. This caused even more outrage and finger waving and everything else. I even thought he was going to hit the Ref!! There was a kids match on the pitch next to ours with loads of parents on the sidelines. The looks of sheer shock and horror at what they were witnessing were comical but they were right cos it was fucking embarrassing.

Twenty minutes later the game ended 0-4 and we hoped that Fireman Sam had had time to calm down. Yeah right!

He came looking for AK and was intent on a fight. I genuinely couldn't believe it. He had to be pulled away and eventually headed for the changing rooms....where he waited and waited.

Sadly, AK did get a punch off of Fireman Sam. I missed it as I was following with some of our lads but when we heard we that he'd waited for AK and still wanted a fight and did manage a punch we were all disgusted. What can you say?! You just don't expect it at our age and I think for a bloke who works as a fireman to behave in such a way is appalling. I was involved in a bad car crash on the M25 in 2007 and within minutes the fire service were there looking after me and doing their job to keep me safe and clear the road of my wrecked Mondeo. These guys do an absolute stunning job and are real heroes every day and I think we all supported them a few years back when there was a dispute over pay. I hope this guy realizes how much of a plank he was and that this was no way for anyone to behave let alone a member of such a notable public service.

The kick in the teeth came in the bar after. Their skipper came over to apologise but then went on to say "but you did wind him up!" I couldn't believe it. He was almost condoning the fact that Fireman Sam had every right to wait to punch AK at the changing rooms. No amount of winding up (and don't forget folks, all Andy did was laugh) deserves that. What happens on the pitch stays on the pitch. We don't play on a Sunday to have to deal with the possible threat of violence.

One of their lads approached me in the bar and strangely commended me for my blog! How on earth it's been found by any one else in our league is a mystery and I guess it should prompt me to watch what I say but if this does make it's way to any of our opponents from last Sunday - thanks for the game but do something about your player before someone gets hurt.

Sorry for this week's post to end up as a blow by blow (pun) account of the rumble at Donkey Lane guys. More football next time. Hopefully....

There can only be one look-a-like this week:

Latymer Vets home to Met Police (lost 1-4)

2012-01-17T09:50:00.000-08:00

So the 'winter break' and Christmas came and went in a flash and our first game of the new year saw us line up at home against possibly the best team in the division in the form of The Met Police, who had given us a bit of a spanking in the reverse fixture at their place in October.

It was nice to be back and we found ourselves finally using the brand new changing rooms at Donkey Lane. I'm not quite sure why they have this odd policy of teams using these huge lock-up cages for their bags but it all seemed a bit like the blind leading the blind.

The game itself was a bit of a beauty and it was great to see that our improving form hadn't been interrupted by the two week break. OK, so we're still losing but it makes a massive difference if the manner of the defeat is one that sees us battle and have a go and lose to teams narrowly, rather than our previous habit of rolling over and shipping eight-plus goals. We're causing teams problems now and maybe they're turning up thinking they've won already...

Nick-the-skipper was still out of action with the same ankle problem that he picked up against this lot in the away game and of course Matt was never going to be ready to play after his rather nasty ankle turn in the last game before Xmas. It was really great to see him and AK arrive towards the end of the game thought to cheer (or heckle?!!) the lads on!

No Wrexy or Flying Scotsman either so Lev, took up the spare Centre-Back slot alongside Lord Codz with Adam and Mark as ever in at full-back. Our midfield was looking pretty solid too actually as we welcomed back Luffy and Pete on the flanks and a new partner for Jonesy in the middle in the form of someone I hadn't met before called Swailsey. I have to say we haven't looked so good through the middle of the park all season. Swailsey was a proper in-yer-face sort of terrier who was always looking for the ball in the same way Jonesy always does. The pair of them worked in tandem to dominate the play for much of the first half. Swailsey was getting proper stuck in with a few suspect tackles and was constantly asking for the ball short from me where ever possible. The difference and influence on the rest of the team was a positive one. Paul and Sully up front completed the line up.

I thought we were going to be in for a real rough ride as the game got underway as the Old Bill passed and passed and passed some more. We didn't actually touch the ball for the first five minutes!

And then we scored....

It came out of a lovely break from our midfield pair and the ball found its way to Paul who rather neatly nut-megged their giant centre-half just inside their half, took a couple of strides forward and literally smashed it into the top left corner from about thirty yards. Their Keeper was nowhere. I have to say, when we do score they do tend to be gems and I think this one has to stand as our goal of the season so far.

Yes, there was pressure on my goal. I was please to get a flick of a glove on a long range shot that smashed my bar and then to drop really quickly to stop and hold a close range effort as their lad was put through.

The equaliser was a bit of soft one when it did come. The ball was sliced straight between our back two and as I rushed out to the edge of the area their striker got their first and did enough to touch it round me and in.

Even so, we kept plugging away and Paul made their Keeper work with another decent shot that he just put round the post.

The Cozzers have this bloke called Junior who I think is some sort of ex semi-pro. He ran the show when we played them at their place and was pulling their strings again this time. I have to say his goal was quality to make it 2-1 to them. He managed to work his way to the top left of my box and was cutting in to approach one-on one with yours truly. As I came out to close the angle he deftly chipped the ball high and it floated over me into the top right hand corner. I had no chance. Bastard!

We definitely felt we could get something from the game at half time and the attitude was first class from everyone. I just hoped we wouldn't fold,...

The pressure was more intense on my goal but I still felt we were coping well enough to possibly nick a draw. We had real spell around their box when we asked all the right questions but just couldn't get the ball over the line. This was summed up when, from our corner, the ball landed plum on the edge of their box in front of Swailsey. As he hit it it looped up and was gliding straight into the top right hand corner. We all knew it was a superb goal - until out of nowhere their Keeper appeared, flying across to his right to get both sets of finger-tips on it to push it on to the bar. How he saved it I'll never know, especially as he wasn't the tallest of Keepers. I think he spent the rest of the game in a daze re-living that save over and over again - I know I would have!! Fair play to the lad - it was a real turning point because if Swailsey had scored it would have been game well and truly on. Poor Swailsey screamed with frustration - I don't think he could quite believe it either.

I had my own moment in the second half too when Mr.ex-pro, Junior stormed into my box and smashed a cross shot past my left hand. As it was going into the bottom corner I was really chuffed to get very strong hand on it to clip it round my left post. I had another point blank block to savour against Junior in the last ten minutes but by that point they had scored their third. It was quite late in the game, (last fifteen minutes I think) when they finally broke down their right and managed to get the ball across for their lad to fire home from twelve yards. It finished us off.

The fourth was with seconds to go. Junior danced into the box and took it round me - as I flayed an arm to try and knock it away he pulled it back for his pal to smash in from two yards out.

I don't like losing - who does? - but I can handle it a whole lot more when we put in that kind of performance. We will win soon - I can feel it. Just a little more luck and the rub of the green to go our way and we're there.

This week's look-a-like has to be Swailsey. He reminded me of this crazy little Tasmanian Devil, scrapping with everyone and winning everything all game. Certainly our man-of-the-match!

Latymer Old Boys 2nn XI away @ Unknown - lost 2-0

2011-12-23T05:59:00.000-08:00

I think I'm going to have to make it my mission to play for every Latymer team this season after my latest call-up involved stepping into the 2nd eleven last Saturday. This means that I've now played for the Vets, the first's, second's and fifth's and so if the opportunity arises to turn out for the third's and fourth's I'll have a full house!

I'll keep it brief, as I need to go and but some last minute pressies for Christmas but both myself and Phil Hartley got the call on the Thursday before the game and as my usual Vets game had been postponed (again!) I was happy to squeeze in a final game before the "winter break."

Thankfully it was only in Edmonton so I arrived into the unknown in plenty of time before kick-off, knowing nobody at all and without Phil who had gone down sick. The Second's were very welcoming - something that is prominent through all the sides in the club and I got myself ready listening to funny banter between the lads as the Arsenal fans slagged of the United fans - and vice-versa.

The Second team can play football. They look to pass and move all the time and I was impressed with the short Geordie lad called Alan in the centre of Midfield who was lively and skillful in his play. Sadly though, they found it quite hard to be a force in front of goal and rarely created an opportunity to have a shot. The opponents were tough in the tackle but our boys gave as good as they got and the first half was a bit of a stalemate.

I had little to do except be on my toes to mop up through-balls but frustratingly we went one-nil down towards half-time as their striker was put through to slam home past me. It was a decent shot and I don't think there was any expectation that I should have stopped it. Even so, I did go to ground earlier than I usually would and it might have made a difference if I had stood tall.

We should have had a penalty but the Ref was having none of it as our lad was clipped down.

The second half was very bitty and again we lacked any real penetration. I grabbed a few balls out of the air and punched a free kick to safety but apart from that the play was centred around the middle of the pitch. Their second goal was a scrappy affair that saw a long range free kick lofted into the box. Our defender was out jumped as their striker nodded the ball down - it bounced and like a pin-ball for a few seconds before it went up in the air only for one of them to bloody overhead kick it with a looping shot into my net.

Disappointing.

I enjoyed the run out but I think the lack of fire power was the difference.

Looking forward to 2012 and the Vets kick-starting our season with a win or two.

Happy Christmas everyone and thanks for supporting this blog with your continual reading.

Latymer Vets away @ Atlas - lost 2-1

2011-12-13T09:09:00.000-08:00

I knew that eventually my penchant for dishing out a bit of abuse on this blog was going to land me in the shit. Readers of my last post may remember my reference to the Referee for the Maccabi game which was, shall we say, a little unkind....

No-one thought to tell me that this particular Ref was in fact a bit of a Latymer legend with over forty five years of service to the club and who was of course a former club Captain and honoury Life-President. I also wasn't aware that he was in-fact on the email distribution list so when I sent out my usual brief alert that the post was available to read, he of course had full view of my over-the-top description!

Steve Last, our man in question, thankfully saw the funny side of it all but I was extremely embarrassed to say the least and rather sheepishly offered a wave of apologies when I saw him for our next game which he was again referee for. Steve laughed it all off again and it says an awful lot about the man with his ability to be so forgiving. But once again for the record- my sincere apologies.

We were rather hoping to build on our 1-1 draw from the last match and an away tie in Greenford to Atlas Vets, we felt, might just bring us our first win of the season.

Indeed, we have discovered the ability to be much more disciplined in our play and hold two banks of four in a much more organised and professional manner but this time round it seemed that lady luck wasn't on our side as we went down 2-1.

Codz was back this week to partner Scottish John in the heart of the defence with Mark in his usual left-back slot and Marcello on the right. We started with Nipper down left midfield and Dino on the right with Jonesy and Paul in the engine room. Sully again partnered Matt up top, while Lev and Adam on the bench this time. Sadly, Nipper lasted only five minutes before limping off with what I think was a pulled hammy so Lev was employed as an emergency left winger! Marcello also experienced a bit of a niggle of sorts so took an early rest with Adam slotting in at the back - good for me because he's my goal-kick merchant!

Atlas started quite brightly and it was evident that they were very much a passing team. They perhaps over-did it a bit but they moved well for each other and popped the ball out wide in an effort to get any cross over. I felt our boys coped pretty well and were really good at staying on their feet and not diving in, getting pulled out of position.

I didn't have an awful lot to do in the opening quarter of the game and bit by bit Latymer began to take control of the game.

We enjoyed a flurry of encounters on their goal which led to a string of corners that certainly caused them a few problems. Codz was getting himself into the fray in their box as much as possible from these corners and only narrowly slammed the ball over from one half chance. Our own passing and moving was really good and Jonesy was asking his usual questions with through balls for Matt and down the right wing for Dino. I think Sully was gutted at the end of the game because he had some really good chances to score, one the Keeper did really well to stop, another that he curled inches wide with the outside of his left peg and yet another that was a little back-heel on goal from a shot from Jonesy.

My own little adventures as the half wore on included a decent but expected stop as one of their lads fired on goal after the ball was scrambled clear from their corner. It was straight at me but I did see it late as it came through a crowd so a double-fisted block was enough to send it clear of danger. There was also a one-on-one as their attacker came clean through. Closing the angle quickly was enough to force an early shot that flew wide and over.

Then the sucker-punch. We failed to stop a cross coming over from their right winger and it sailed beyond me onto the head of an incoming striker to nod home from six yards. A few of us threw our toys out of our prams but thankfully it only took a minute for us to grab a cheeky equaliser.

And yet again it seems we owe a bit of grateful debt to our truly fantastic Referee as for the second week in a row his out-of-place whistle evidently helped us out. Last week he was forced to disallow a perfectly good goal for Maccabi when he blew his whistle when the ball was in mid-air (and going over my head and in) for a dodgy offside. This time it was our throw-in on the right which of course, Matt launched into the box. All I saw was Paul connect sublimely with the sweetest volley to drive the ball into the bottom lefty hand corner. Paul turned and ran off in delight, mobbed by our boys and we thought that was that. The Atlas lot were going bonkers at Lasty, complaining that they had heard him blow his whistle as the ball came over and they reckoned it made them all stop. This time, the Ref was having none of it, I think denying he'd blown at all, and firmly awarded the goal!! Superb. I love a favour!

We lost Matt towards the end of the half as he rather nastily turned his ankle badly and had to be carried off. The latest news is that there is no break but agonisingly he has injured some ligaments. Gutted for him. Matt's been a really strong player for us this season so I hope he can get back soon.

The second half was one way traffic all the way really but at the same time we dealt with it really well. There weren't any major dodgy moments for us and we coped really well - mainly because we kept our shape and Atlas were forced to play it side ways. Scottish John had a superb game and did save our bacon a couple of times with a last-ditch sliding tackle, but other than that it looked like we'd get another draw. In-fact we could have nicked it as twice we were able to counter attack and catch them on the break - one in particular saw Lev slide a super weighted pass down our left flank for a charging Mark to run onto. We couldn't make the final ball count and just weren't able to get a shot in on any of these breaks though.

Their little front guy (who looked about twelve) was a little ferret who had no sense of humour. Codz had properly wound him up at the end of the first half and it was comical to see this little 5ft Turkish chap tyring to square up to 6ft 5 Codz! Their lad looked like the little creature from Harry Potter called Dobby trying to take on Lord Valdemort!

Dobby found himself through one-on-one with me and as I rushed out to block him he chipped the ball over my left arm only to see it rebound off the left post and then cleared by the Scotsman. He wasn't happy as I chirped in his ear and he was being a right little gob-shite.

I only had a free-kick from twenty yards out to deal with that curled round the wall and straight at me so with only five minutes left I was sure that we'd done enough to get another draw.

Of course, things don't always go according to plan but it took a speculative long range effort that crashed the underside of my bar, bouncing down and in to beat me. I was so pissed off as we had worked really hard and deserved to get at least a draw.

Dobby found me after the final whistle to have a final swipe - little fucker!

To add insult to injury, there was no bloody bar open and no grub laid on by our hosts. I vote we send 'em to the Kebab house when we play them in Enfield in 2012.

This week's look-a-likes clearly have to be their little chirpy centre-forward and our very own Codz. Dobby and Valdemort take it away...

Latymer Old Boys Vets @ home to Maccabi Lions Vets - 1-1 Draw(!)

2011-12-07T13:18:00.000-08:00

It was nice to be contacted in the week by Pete Collop, Captain of the 1st XI, to ask if I could play again on the Saturday, and I would have snatched his hand off had there been no Vets match scheduled for the Sunday. Two games in one weekend kind of takes the piss a bit on poor Wifey, so I declined and was majorly focused on putting in a solid performance for the 'overs.'

Our home games have, thus far, been non-existent as the club seem to be in endless negotiations and talks over our proposed use of the new Queen Elizabeth II stadium at the top of Enfield playing fields. This new arena seems to have taken an age to finally get to the finished article but I have to say it is rather splendid. Complete with an athletics track round the pitch (rather spoiling the atmosphere no doubt!), the ground is the new home of Enfield Town and we have been led to believe that the Vets will be allowed to use it on a Sunday. Given the excellent venues that the likes of Maccabi Lions and North Greenford use it would be fitting and in-keeping with the standard of the league to be able to host our opponents in this new stadium.

Alas, we were put off again for this weeks game at home to Maccabi so had to slum it on the regular pitches on the fields. The new changing rooms were also "not quite finished" and so we had to use the joyous Central Pavilion. The Central Pav is proper old school. There are no individual changing rooms - rather a full-on open room where all the teams (and there are always loads) have to get changed with only a few inches of bench and a broken clothes peg for every couple of men! You're afraid to bend over to tie your boots for fear of getting knocked arse-over-tit and the testosterone in the air is only overshadowed by the smell of sweat, deep-heat and some fat blokes Indian from the night before.

Even so, a home fixture is a home fixture and surely the place you might hope to build s decent run of results from....

We were up against Maccabi Lions who were our opponents for the opening game of the season. They were too strong for us on their big, beautiful pitch that day running out as 6-2 winners. I feared a similar story if I'm honest, purely because it had been about a month since our last game! For different reasons we've had fixtures postponed and I was worried the gap since our last promising performance against Garston would have filtered out any drive and momentum we might have looked to build on.

Thankfully, we had decent numbers in terms of personnel for the match with fourteen names on the squad list for the fixture. Nick Klinsman was still out having still not been able to recover from an ankle injury picked up six weeks ago against the Met Police! I think Nick must have felt he was in the Doctors surgery before the game as about four of us offered expert opinions and advice on what the injury had to be. I diagnosed tendinitis and told him to "keep it elevated wherever possible and use ice or freeze gel as much as possible." Dr. Luffy took Nick through his symptoms and recommended a sort of flexing routine of exercises to "keep it loose" while Doctors Lev and Scottish John nodded in approval while concurring.

No Codz either (bad back) meant that Wrexy was partnered at Centre Back by the Scotsman for the first time after a run of games at full back. These slots were filled by Mark as usual on the left and Adam, back in after missing a couple of games of the right. We had a very attack-minded midfield with Luffy and Dino on the flanks and Jonesy and Paul in the middle. It was nice to have our play maker back and I was looking forward to him linking up with Paul who also had missed the last two games. Matt was partnered by Sully up top and to be fair I thought we looked a strong unit, especially with Lev, Nipper and Shamzey on the bench.

I loved the fact that Ref looked like some fat trucker, complete with dirty baseball cap and scruffy beard. I think I even saw traces of brown sauce on his chops from his morning bacon butty!

So did we take another spanking or did we finally manage to notch our first win of the season? Well the answer is no - to both questions. Yes, Constant Reader, our first points of the season came by way of one of the luckiest, frenetic, ball-hits-woodwork-fifty-chuffing-times, cheekiest 1-1 draws known to man. And this is how it happened...

I actually thought we played well for the first fifteen minutes or so, keeping the ball and putting a decent string of sensible passes together several times. The game was generally being played around the halfway line and more so into their half, with once again, Jonesy totally dominating possession. He is always looking for the ball and creating the angle to receive the ball back after a pass and just doesn't stop running. His link up play with both Luffy and Dino was really good and Paul was really strong too. I felt we were coping really well and I hadn't really been troubled at all through the first quarter of the game. Maccabi are a good side and slowly did start to exert themselves into the game. They were constantly looking to get the ball wide, especially down their left, with a view to getting a cross in. Adam was having what I think was his best game of the season at right-back - closing down their winger as much as possible and Dino was doing well to support this as well.

I was called into action for the first time when scramble saw the ball fly into my penalty area to the feet of Mister Attacker. He sort of hesitated as he came forward because suddenly he was one on one with me. This lack of initiative from him meant that I was able to close him down enough to get down quickly and get a boot on the ball to scuff it wide for their first corner.

This proved a good moment for me too - the corner was smashed high and at pace but was literally coming straight down my throat as I was looking at it. A nice early scream from me saw me follow up with a really decent take out of the air as the ball stuck to my gloves like glue. For a goalkeeper this is always a nice moment as it inspires confidence.

Not long after that their attacker broke into my box down their left hand side. As he strode forward on goal the angle was fairly tight and in my favour. Even so his shot beat me but not my post as it luckily hit my left upright and literally rebounded straight into my arms as I was lying on the floor!

You could say we had started to ride our luck just a little bit. Various incidents included a one on one of sorts as their bloke was put clean through - I committed to come really far out to meet him while he was still outside my box, forcing him to pelt a chipped effort over my head. The bar came to our rescue this time, although I must admit I felt good that I'd rushed him into that particular effort.

Another moment saw Adam rocket the ball over my own bar as he cleared more danger and then of course the inevitable happened, and they scored.

Their lad broke into the box down their right this time and sprinted in on goal. The angle was again quite tight and I hugged my near post so I couldn't be embarrassed with any shot there. When the shot came it went across me and I did get a decent body behind it making a standard save. As it rebounded back towards the penalty spot a mad scramble from the Latymer boys wasn't enough to stop it rolling straight to one of them and he cooley popped the ball into my bottom right hand corner.

The pressure had been quite strong from them but it was still disappointing to concede.

Our forwards hadn't had a great deal of joy and I think I remember only a couple of efforts that didn't trouble their keeper. Their number one was a different lad from the first game and it has to be said - this bloke was a bit of a pudding. He didn't look like he could get off the floor if he was called into action and I was just praying Matt could unleash one of his unstoppable long-range shots on his goal. Matt and I had spoken before the game started as I pointed out to him what I saw as a possible Achilles heel, and Matt assured me he'd be setting his sights as much as possible. Frustratingly, the opportunities just weren't forthcoming, and the one half-chance that did come Matt's way was from quite far out and sadly he just couldn't keep the ball from going high and wide.

It wasn't long after going a goal down that the ghosts of high-balls past came back to haunt me. I could see their winger desperately trying to shape to get the ball over at my goal from their wide left position. I wanted him closed down, no-one did and finally he lofted the ball directly at me . I had all the time in the world to see it but yes it was a windy day and I felt that on its path towards my goal it did experience a sudden whoosh that helped it loop and fly more than just a bit. I stumbled back and caught a stud on the bumpy grass under-foot. In my defence it was always going into that tricky area between bar and post and it was coming down from a silly height. I missed it and it went in as I fell like a pile of bricks into my own net. Gutted.... The funny thing was as that Scottish John was saying "Dinna worry Greg - it's not a goal..."

Confused, I quickly got the gist that as the ball had flew over, one of their lads was standing in an off-side position. I mean he wasn't active but Nipper popped his flag up anyway and had the ball required a touch off him it would have been a genuine free-kick to us. Rather brilliantly, the Ref had blown his whistle before the ball had gone in and while it was in mid-air!! Maccabi were off celebrating and our lot were going mad at the Ref. After all we play to the whistle right? The Ref was desperately trying to back-track over his premature whistle saying that the ball was going in anyway. That was until I rather cheekily and bare-facedly piped up that it was in-fact his whistle that had "made me stop" had "put me off" and "I had it covered but let it go cos your whistle went!"

The poor Ref had no choice but to disallow the goal and award the free-kick!! Priceless.

Even though it was ruled out, I was genuinely chuffed to make amends minutes later. The ball pinged about round the edge of my box and eventually was driven very low and very hard at my bottom right hand corner. I almost left it as I thought for a second it was going wide but before I knew it I had managed to get down and offer a full, firm hand to palm it round the post. As I looked past me post save I could see the ball literally curling inches wide. Relief! It was almost a carbon copy of a save I'd made for the 1st XI a coupe of weeks earlier and I didn't feel such a twat after the goal that wasn't incident.

We made it to half time and were really geared up to give it a real go in the second half. Matt had to disappear to a prior commitment so Nipper came into the fray. Paul assured me he needed no encouragement to shoot when I pointed out their fat keeper and we kicked off and prayed for a miracle.

Someone was listening somewhere because for the next forty five minutes we soaked up so much pressure and cashed in our lucky dollars for the season as Maccabi did everything but score a second goal. They were firmly camped in our half and had a few shots fly wide or over that perhaps they could and should have scored from. Luffy's hammy seemed to go again so Shamzey came on and later, Lev replaced a hobbling Scottish John.

They crashed my bar another two times and I was punching balls clear where possible as lady luck smiled on us and it got to the stage where John Motson would have said something like "and you can just sense that Maccabi Lions may be made to pay for squandering what can only be described as a mountain of opportunities at the Latymer goal!"

And you know what? Motty would have been right. We picked up a free kick as one of our boys was chopped down midway into their half and down our right. Adam took it a pinged the ball at pace straight onto the edge of their six yard box. It was such a scramble and from where I was I couldn't;t really see it but at least three of our lot went up for the ball as did their keeper. He missed it, someone connected with it and the ball ended up in the net!! Fuck me we'd scored. 1-1

Maccabi were going bonkers claiming a foul on their Keeper but the Ref wasn't having it and awarded the goal. Shamzey said he'd got "something on it", Sully was desperately trying to convince anyone who'd listen that he had "the final touch" and Paul described how he'd "barged through the Keeper with an elbow and headed the ball home!" Either way it was more like tag-team move out of WWE on their poor Keeper because Paul admitted later that it was a definite foul. Who fucking cares? We deserved the goal because we've had nothing this season and were due a bit of luck for a change.

The goal came with about six minutes left and for the final five it was like the Alamo on my goal. Maccabi prodded and poked trying top break through to nick a late winner. And sure enough they had their chance...

I was ultra determined that I wouldn't concede, so when their attacker managed to wriggle past our last defender to be clean through in a one-on-one I stood tall, and I stood firm. The shot was hard but I sprang to my right and made a strong, decent save. The danger was only averted when the ball that rebounded to another of them was sent wide of my post.

They had corner after corner and I did enough to block a header point blank as I rose with their striker, and there was time for one final shot on my goal that was going in until, for some reason, their number 17 decided he'd get a flick on it that sent it over!

The final whistle was music to my ears and I was elated that we had finally got some points. It felt as good as a win and I know that all the Latymer lads were just chuffed to bits. It was nice to see Pete and Andy had arrived during the second half to watch the game and they enjoyed the result as much as anybody. Jonesy and Adam commented that I must have been carrying my rabbit's foot, four leaf clover and lucky horse-shoe in my bag that morning - something like that!

Yes, we had been lucky but I firmly believe you make your own luck. Football is the best game in the world and we proved that against a strong team, who had previously beaten us heavily, we could compete.

The new cafe and bar facilities were open so we thoroughly enjoyed a pint and a sarnie and looked forward to our next game and the thought of making it to our first win.

This week's look-a-like's must surely be Paul and Sully after their impression of the Legion of Doom with their double-team on the Maccabi Keeper:

Latymer 1st XI (!!!!) away to Unknown (lost 2-1)

2011-11-23T23:40:00.000-08:00

After our last performance I was really geared up to play and looking forward to Sunday's match eagerly. I think it's really important to let momentum work its magic where possible and I was dreaming of the Vet's first win of the season. Imagine my dismay when Lev's email pinged into my inbox on the Thursday with information that our game had been postponed due to a problem with the opponent's pitch...Well pissed off. I think you can safely say my weekend was ruined.

I informed Ewelina that I had a football-free weekend and we agreed to 'do something' on the Saturday and 'go somewhere' on the Sunday...

So there I was working away quite happily at my desk in the office on Friday, having put aside my annoyed feelings at there being no game when the email came. I had to read it twice just to make sure I wasn't seeing things - all I got the first time was goal-keeping crisis, Saturday, and first team... but the slower read revealed that Pete Collop (first team skipper) was getting in touch as he had a major problem for their match on the Saturday as he had no goal keeper and could I, (would I) step in and help out?! I was only being called up into the fucking first team!!! I nearly fell over!

I now know how newbies to the England squad feel when they first get the call because my first thought was "this is a wind-up", followed by "fuck", followed by "is he mental?" A closer examination led me to believe this was genuine and I have to be honest the ego took a massive leap. Then all the insecurities kicked in and I had to ask myself if I was really going to be good enough. I consoled myself that a goal keeper of sorts was better than no goal keeper at all and was really just chuffed to be asked.

My mind flashed to the likes of Paul Robinson and Ben Foster who lately had retired themselves from England duty and I thought to myself they must be nuts. Here I was getting a chance with the first team of the club I play for and it felt great. Any opportunity that presents itself shouldn't be snuffed at and whilst this ain't England, for me it was a great call-up to receive. The game was in bloody Roehampton so was going to be a bit of a trek but I was mega up for it. Ewelina is an absolute diamond because she had no problem with me breaking our plans and I was cleared to play.

I wasn't really too sure of what to expect so I went along telling myself just to be confident and do my best. The journey over was long, as expected, but I got there in good time and was given a real genuine welcome by Pete and all of the first team lads, including a nice patter of applause before the game started when Pete introduced me as the team was read out. I half-expected them to be older but I'd say the average age must be about 22. All the boys were great towards me from start to finish and this was a massive help to me because I didn't want to let them down and I didn't want to make a fool of myself with any stupid, costly mistakes.I hoped my experience would help me to deal with what I perceived would be a higher standard of football and I also hoped it wouldn't be me who was the weak link.

The first team had played our opponents and won a couple of weeks earlier in a league match (no pressure)and this was a cup game. We only had a bare eleven so it seemed we were up against it right from the start.

I did my usual pre-match "I'm useless at goal-kicks so somebody needs to take them" spiel, and I was set.

Deep breath....

The first half was a fairly even affair. What I didn't want was to concede at all but especially not early. I had a few early touches - nothing too strenuous, but I was a bit embarrassed when my first two kicks out of my hands were terrible. This part of my game has massively improved of late but I totally screwed up with flat, life-less efforts that made me look a right twat. I think it was nerves. My kicking did get much better after that and I feel I did make up for those early shit attempts with some solid long, high balls right down their back-four's throats.

I dealt with a cross-shot that was a bit of a grass-cutter well as well as free-kick from distance that was well on target to my top left. I saw it in plenty of time and got a solid body behind the ball. I was impressed with our play as the first team definitely know how to play football. They are very industrious and work hard for each other. Our back four were solid with our full-backs James and Paul (I think that was our left-backs name - sorry if that's wrong) getting forward as much as possible and both Mark and John at centre-back, excellent at snuffing out danger as well as being great on the ball. In the midfield both wingers, Jamie and Jordan were nippy little beggars who were causing problems in the opponents full-back areas and Pete and Mark in the middle of the park didn't stop running. Our forwards, Aaron and Leon were both a bit of a handful so I felt we could certainly nick a goal.

Sadly, it was us who conceded first. The ball looped over from the left and caused a bit of a mix-up on the edge of my area. The ball fell to their striker who fired it past my left hand in to the net. It wasn't a great shot and I got a flick of a finger on it. Could I have stopped it? Possibly.

Our boys continued chipping away at their defence and the flowing, passing football that they were working hard with finally paid off only a few minutes after we lost that goal. A great move saw the ball pass accross our back four before Jamie was released down the right wing. His superb delivery across their box found Aaron who managed to slide a foot on the ball and into the bottom corner. It was no more than we deserved and I felt we could go on from here and get the win. Minutes later a similar break across my box box for the opposition saw the ball land at the feet of their striker. His shot was low and hard and was flying into my bottom right corner. Somehow, I reacted well enough to dive down and get strong hand on it to turn it round the post. It was a super stop and one I was mega chuffed with. It kept us level and added to my growing confidence.

We got to the break at 1-1 and it was all to play for in the second half.

We brought Ash on at centre-back and I have to say it's been a while since I saw a player with such a strong presence and who was so good on the ball. We were so dominant in that second half and probed and prodded the ball so much that I was kept pretty quiet. The pleasin thing for me was the level of my handling. Three or four time I had high balls both across my six yard line and straight down my throat which I claimed confidently and with a loud scream of 'Keepers!!' I was coming right off my line and getting to everything - the Vet's lads would have been amazed!

The sucker-punch was when on one of their rare forays on our goal the ball was cut back to easily thirty yards outside my box and their left back just simply ran on to it and wolloped it like an exorcet straight on goal. it was well wide of me giving me zero chance to do a thing about it as it smashed the underside of my bar and flew in to the net in the top left corner. I think the lad was more surprised than anyone (he hadn't had a good game at all) and we were gutted. 2-1 down.

There was still a good 25 minutes left and we had so much of the ball it was ridiculous. But alas, we just couldn't find the equalizer. We had three decent free kicks on goal, the best of which saw young Jordan smash the crossbar and then fall agonisingly away to safety. It was just one of those games where we didn't deserve to lose - but did.

It wiuld have been nice to have gone to extra time and then even penalties (goal keepers love them because it's the chance to be the hero and all that) but we trudged off at full-time more than just a touch deflated.

I thoroughly enjoyed my first team experience and was really pleased that I had made no serious errors and had actually put in a solid display.

But my heart lies with the Vets. The club have taken me in to their fold and I'll always step in and play where ever I'm asked if there's no Vets game on the Sunday, but I remain desperate and committed as ever to help the 'overs' grab their first win of season and then hopefully more after that.

I thanked Pete and the boys for the game - I am sure they will do really well this season. A super bunch of lads (Latymer as a club seem to attract great lads throughout the entire club actually) and once again I thank them for welcoming me.

In tru blog spirit I'll add a look-a-like. Young James Bentley, who chatted to me quite a bit and was a top bloke towards me played at right back and then switched to left back in the second half. As soon as I met him he reminded me of Wayne Bridge....James turned out to be a very good full back too so mayber they're related...?

Latymer Vets (home fixture) V Garston Vets - lost 4-2

2011-11-13T11:42:00.000-08:00

With no game last Sunday for the Vets, I wasn't looking forward to two weeks with no match. For me personally, I always find the more I'm playing - the more the chance of improving. So I made myself available to play on Saturday for the club again and was called into the 5's starting eleven. As it turned out, some the opponents pulled out quite late on so the 2's and the 5's were left to mix up the teams and play each other in a 'competitive' friendly on Enfield park. I'd rather play a meaningful game for sure, but this match turned out to be a great work-out and a much needed confidence boost for yours truly. These lads can run and run all day and I have to say I was very impressed with the ability of a lot of the young players on show. Latymer have a lot to be happy about because the standard is getting better and better within the club and the attitude and commitment all round is superb.

The game ended 1-1 although I think we really should have won. Their goal was a penalty and ours was a super diving header from my pal Phil Hartley, who should have had a hat-trick. It set me up perfectly for the Vets next game and like I said - I got a bit of confidence back after a couple of half decent stops.

That feeling of foreboding was in the air again through the week as Sunday approached when Lev's email went out with the familiar plead for players. We were short again it seemed. Sadly, injuries from the last game were still hanging over Jonesy and Nick who were to undergo a 'late fitness test' and with no AK or Shamsey on the team sheet I can only assume their injuries were still sore enough to rule them out all together. Other absences meant we needed to try and recruit more players! I tried to get a couple of pals interested but Damien was busy and I couldn't get a response from Mim. The last thing I think any of us wanted was another whipping - the last two matches were bad enough. Having only a bare eleven meant we could at least put out the correct number to start the game with but then of course with no subs, everyone would be fucked after an hour...And of course we were playing Gartson and Big Sam (he of the four headers and the crack across the back of my head a few weeks ago)! This was actually our home game but we're still waiting on clearance to play in the new stadium at Donkey Lane, so yet again we were at the Met Police ground in Bushey. Garston sit at the top of the league so were probably gagging to play us after our recent shite results.

Getting to the ground is pretty straight forward from Cheshunt but there was a bit of a nasty car accident en route that slowed the traffic on the A1. Thankfully it didn't take long to get past it and even more thankfully there was no-one hurt. Car crashes always put me on edge a little and I was left feeling rather subdued as I went past the incident. The delay meant I ended up arriving at about 10am - still plenty of time but much later than I would usually prefer. Preparation is paramount and all that.

We really were down to the bare eleven for the game and it was interesting to note that of today's team only five started the previous game with two others who had been on the bench last time out. The regular changes in the line-up each week does make it incredibly hard to get any real settled pattern of play together but I guess we'll just have to deal with it as we go along. So with me in goal and Mark, Wrexy, Codz and Scottish John in the back four we had a five-man midfield of Marcello, Dino, Sully and another John (who I was meeting both for the first time) and the other Greg. Matt was the lone ranger up front. We half expected Adam and Jonesy but alas they didn't make it and Nick, whilst he did make it to the game, was clearly unable to play as he was still hobbling around. With no Lev(!) either, Nick became Kenny Dalglish for the day.

Garston were clearly going to have a game plan that revolved around getting the ball behind our full-backs for their wingers to cross for Big Sam's head. We knew that from past experiences. But did that past experience make a blind bit of difference...?

Well, constant reader, yes - it bloody-well-did!

The master-stroke of the day was playing Codz at Centre-Back. Codz is by far our tallest player but not only that he's bloody brilliant in the air! Also, for a tall feller, he can play football!! Twinkle-toed and calm and collected on the ball, my opinion is that this team need Codz at the back whenever possible. I'm not sure if it's his favoured position and he'll probably thump me for these comments but hey-ho. Today he was absolutely superb and stuck to Big Fat Sam like glue, beating him to nearly every ball and stopping him scoring a single goal.

The truth is that everyone played well today but the back four were immense. Wrexy put in tackle after tackle and swept up everything and Scottish John and Mark as full-backs, held the line brilliantly.

The first half though was a bit of an on-slaught as Garston flooded forward trying to slice us down their wings as well as through the middle. We definitely rode our luck on more than one occasion and in terms of possession, we certainly had less of the ball than them. It was difficult to get a series of passes together and we rarely threatened their goal. But we held our shape and were digging deep to try and stop them as much as we could. Our best chance in the first half was a bit of a scramble in their box and I think our shot was cleared off their line (it's always hard to see from where I'm stood folks!)

Early on Wrexy tried to power a header wide of my left post to clear the danger only for the ball to fly at my goal and well on-target! Fortunately, I saw it in good time and was able to get across and actually hold the save. Phew! It actually served as a bit of a confidence builder for me so cheers for that Wrexy...

In truth, Garston had their chances to score with several efforts on goal that either went over or well-wide but at one point Big Sam had managed to pull out wide and as the ball came to his feet I was well pleased to smother his point blank shot on goal. One nil to me Mr Fat Twat! Ha!

Gartson's pressure led to an endless stream of corners which they put into my box with scary accuracy. Big Sam clattered the bar with one header (I like to think that my leap into his side put him off so two-nil to me) but in the end they finally made one count. Then two. And then three...

We must have got to half an hour before they finally scrambled the bar over my line with a header from the corner and I seriously thought we'd cave in. More corners followed and I even managed to get a punch on one, but 2-0 came with yet another header. They made it three with a carbon copy of the first two as the ball flew over to the back post and their lad climbed all over Scottish John to power another header into my net. We were pissed off because all three goals were identical. Big Sam hadn't scored but three of his bloody pals had.

At half-time it was pleasing that everyone was really positive and it just felt that the boys had decided that they weren't going to lie down and die. We'd suffered two heavy back-to-back defeats already and I don't think the lads were going to stand for another.

The pace and effort and pure commitment in the second half was just a whole new level for us. The amount of talking and tackling and running was so impressive. Yes, there were more corners for Garston but we finally managed to deal with these in a much better, more organised fashion and we actually caused them a lot of problems. Dino was playing a blinder in midfield and Matty up front was holding the ball up so well to try and bring our lads into the play. It wasn't easy but our efforts were well rewarded with a goal mid-way through the half when one of our lads was hauled down about six or seven yards outside their box. Garston have the tendency to be a bit bloody dirty so it was really pleasing when Matt stepped up and stroked the ball into the bottom left corner. A massive amount of credit must go to Dino though because he'd popped himself on the end of the wall blocking their Keeper. As Matt ran up to hit the free-kick Dino basically ploughed to his right, knocking their wall completely over and opening up a lovely space for the strike. Superb stuff. Steve Hodge used to do exactly the same trick for Stuart Pearce at Forest years ago and it was great to see it working for us too.

I have to say that Nick, who was running the line was a massive part of why we performed so well in the second half. He was so positive and never stopped talking and gee-ing us up. It had an effect on all of us and it was great to hear so many voices today.

I was pretty pleased with my own performance too, especially when for once Garston did manage to play their striker in on goal. I came out quickly and as he knocked it round me I kept my eye on the ball and managed to slide accross and claw it from under his feet and grab on to it for dear life!

Of course that feeling of invincibility was shattered when minutes later my goalkeeping gaff of the year occurred. It was fucking silly really - a cross/shot from my right floated past two of theirs and two of ours and evaded several kicks and attempted flicks only to go straight past me into my bottom left corner. I saw it in fucking slow motion and it wasn't even travelling at speed. I should have saved it and I was so hacked off. Garston didn't deserve it at all and I just wanted the ground to open up and snatch me into hell there and then.

As the game ebbed away our boys kept the fighting spirit and yet again, that super special long throw of Matt's did its magic and there was Codz leaping at their near post to get a flick on the ball to make it 4-2. We totally deserved our second goal and indeed to win the second half 2-1 but I had images of us grabbing another and my mistake on their fourth goal being the difference. As it was we didn't score again and the game ended with us all feeling rather elated. Sure, we hadn't won or even gotten the draw but we did prove that we can compete. The mood after our last few games had been one of despair and even embarrassment but here we were finally walking off with a smile on our faces. I've said it before and I'll say it again - we play because we want to enjoy it. And today we did.

Singling individuals out isn't always fair, especially when the whole team have done so well so apologies for harping on about the odd few. But it was doubly pleasing to see Big Sam subbed with about twenty minutes to go and even more funny that Codz, who'd marked him out of the game, actually scored for us.

The best bit was in the bar afterwards when Wrexy told us what had happened to him seconds before the kick-off: He decided that the pitch could "take a stud" and so he removed his moulded boots in favour of normal boots. As he put on his left boot by the side of the pitch he had the most awful pain occur in his left foot. Taking the boot off, a bloody wasp nest fell out of his boot! Wrexy had been strung by probably about three wasps! Instead of rolling around in agony and making a song and dance about it (which is exactly what I would have done) he pulled on his boot, laced it up and played the whole game with a numb left foot! I don't think he could actually feel his foot at all for the first ten minutes of the game! And he played a blinder today...Tough or what?!

The look-a-like section of my blog has got a few of the lads coming up with ideas so by all means if there are any ideas out there I want to hear them. Remember Codz, I've got a special one just for you coming up - but not just yet...

This week's look-a-like has to go to a man who, although he shouts and screams a lot, is full of blue-blooded Scottish passion. The one and only Braveheart - Scottish John.

And the whole Keeper number thing never really caught on so I've decided to keep the back of my shirt blank until we win our first game - and I'll use the result as my number.

Latymer Vets away @ Met Police (lost 8-2)

2011-11-02T13:19:00.000-07:00

A bit late this week - been really busy at work!

So Halloween weekend and our performance, unfortunately, turned out to be a bit of a horror show. Oh it had everything: tantrums, own goals, injuries and even the boys in blue (wearing white...)

We were back at the Met Police ground in Bushey again this week with memories of our previous trip a few weeks earlier when we lost to Garston (who also play there) still fresh in the memory. I even saw 'Big Sam' the Garston centre-forward (four fucking headers!) who had given me the dirty elbow across the back of the head, outside the changing rooms. Bastard!

And there was another new face for me to meet in the form of Simon Mabey. What a character! Where have the Vets been hiding this guy?! A very funny bloke - with twinkle toes it would turn out.

Scottish John was back after missing last week so it was nice to be reunited with my pal, and we actually had a good fourteen players for the game. Sadly, the regular situation of players missing through injury from the week before reared its ugly head as Luffy was absent following last weeks pulled hammy and we also were without Paul which was a shame because I'm sure he would have loved to have added to his two goals in his previous outing. It was nice to see Codz again who in spite of his physical appearance ( basically he looks like he could cause a few problems in a ruck), is one of the most placid and laid back guys in the team, and Wrexy who admitted before the game that he had heard the Steve McClaren similarity before...

Lev thought we'd have a go with two holding midfielders which saw Nick alongside Codz in the middle of the park with Shamsey out on the left and Jonesy on the right. Personally, I'd have Jonesy down the middle pulling the strings as usual - but that's just me. AK & Lev set up at centre back with Mark and Wrexy either side and Matty was partnered up top with Dino. We also welcomed a new chap called Marcello who started on the bench with the Scotsman and Mabes. I thought we looked pretty strong actually and of course there was the usual pre-match murmurs that 'we gave this lot a good game last year....' Famous fucking last words.

We did our very best but the Met Police do have a decent side - possibly one of the best footballing teams we've played. They pass and move extremely well for each other and had us really chasing them and the ball for pretty much the whole game. The first half was a bit of a tidal wave of continuous pressure but the most pleasing thing was that we actually held out for about thirty five minutes before conceding. Prior to that we properly rode our luck seeing them clatter my bar and me getting in a couple of scrappy saves with my legs. Things weren't helped when AK did his knee pretty early seeing Scottish J coming on and then a poor tackle from one of them saw Shamsey limp off being replaced by debutant, Marcello.

Nick and Codz were at one point almost playing as extra centre backs but finally their tall centre midfielder, a lad called Junior, planted a header into my top corner. We went two down just before half time when a cross from my right was hooked home. Lev thought I could have been on my toes a bit more to perhaps have gotten out to meet the cross and we 'had words' to say the least. I disagreed, but on reflection I have been shit at getting out to balls lately so he may have a point.

Sadly, we couldn't maintain any real sort of defensive 'shut-out' in the second half. Lev took a breather to start with introducing Mabes into Centre Midfield and Nick dropping back. I was assured Mabes was a decent player and I have to say I was impressed. I think he's probably been living all week off the nutmeg he got in tho!

I was gutted for their third goal. All I wanted was a shot on my goal that I could fly across for to make a confidence-boosting stop. When that shot came I saw it all the way, flew across to my right, almost tracking it in slow motion - and promptly missed it as I flapped my hand to push it made. Pissed off doesn't even cover it.

Things seemed a little more optimistic when Codz looped a header over their Keeper to make it 3-1 but we never really looked like we were going to pressure them enough to get back into it properly.

A long deep kick from their Keeper was allowed to bounce and yes maybe I could have stormed out to try and grab it as it headed in to my box. The way I saw it Codz was chasing back shoulder to shoulder with their attacker and had I rushed out it was a hospital ball scenario and would have exposed the my goal for any flick. As it was they ended up scoring anyway and for the second time I had a bit of a rant. I wasn't happy at all - even offering the gloves to 'anyone who wanted to do better!' Once I'd collected my toys back into my pram I felt much better tho!

Our shape was all over the place and things got worse when Jonesy pulled his hammy making a last ditch block on goal. Lev hopped back on but by then it was 5-1 as Codz decided that one goal wasn't enough and powered a header past me. The best came minutes later tho.

I came right out to close down their striker who was clean through for a one-on-one. I was pretty pleased to hold him up and then get down enough to push him far enough to my right so that he literally couldn't get a shot in. He needn't have worried tho because the ball was smashed home in to the top corner by the on-rushing player - who happened to be Scottish John! What a finish - surely it seemed easier to miss? Left foot too....

We lost Nick to injury too (can you believe that? - four players in one game!) and we effectively played with ten men. AK and Shamsey tried to come back on but could hardly walk let alone run.

There seventh was a point blank header but the goal of the game came from the hard-working Matt. I think he was pissed off because he had launched a stunning shot from way out earlier in the second half that had their Keeper totally beaten - so much so that he was actually applauding the shot that had beaten him. From where I was I could see that it had actually gone in under the bar but the sheer force of it saw the ball bounce straight back out and hit the keeper on the back!! The Ref (who was fucking awful by the way) 'didn't see it' and the goal didn't stand. Matt held the ball up as much as he could all day and put in a proper shift but their cheating lino flagged him twice when clean through when he was definitely on-side. His goal, when it came, was another excellent drive that flew into the top corner - well-deserved too.

I did manage a scrappy leg save onto my post - although Wrexy was kind enough to comment that it was a really decent save. Personally, I was mega fucked-off because I hadn't played well and had also had a couple of tantrums.

There was time for them to grab a cheeky lob as I came out to close their striker who was clean through and the ref put us out of our misery.

So gutted. At least with no fixture the following Sunday it would give players a chance to recover from knocks and scrapes.

I had a good think about this week's look-a-like. Ever since I met Lev I've thought he bears a resemblance to one of the characters off Star Trek - Deep Space Nine....'Odo.' I hope he doesn't get offended!!! (If it helps I've also included a picture of the actual actor in an effort to prove he actually looks like him minus the make-up...)

Sorry Lev!

Latymer Vets away at North Greenford United (lost 10-4)

2011-10-25T14:00:00.000-07:00

A game of two halves? You'll never believe how much of an understatement that cliche really seems right now...
Sunday's game was the first time in a long time that I have come away from a match feeling really really frustrated and really really pissed off. Going straight to the punch-line - we lost 10-4! Not a great result at all but made so much more annoying because we were actually winning at one stage 3-4...
I hate feeling the way I did because, like everyone else, I play to enjoy it. Getting spanked each week in the end becomes proper tough and eventually heads are down before you even start the next game - invariably resulting in another heavy defeat. Prior to joining Latymer I managed and played for my work team, ALC FC and the first half of our inaugural season saw us get hammered nearly every week. Thankfully, after Christmas in that season we did turn it around and enjoyed a bit of a winning streak that saw us finish a very respectable mid-table and in turn we all loved our football again. It just goes to show that things can turn around very quickly - especially at Sunday morning football level where the gap between teams often comes down to fitness, belief, and commitment.
Football literally is a funny-old-game (another great cliche - I think I'll try and cram lots in to this post) because one minute the team you play for look like they would be better playing netball than football, and the next minute it's just like watching Brazil - well OK then, Barnet - but you know what I mean.
I think the problem the Vets are facing at the moment is putting out a settled side each week. For whatever reason, availability is an issue as we seem to only be able to keep a set of about seven or eight usual faces, with different players from the squad making up the numbers each week.
Without doubt this is no-one's fault. Vets are of the age where families and wives and other necessary commitments mean it's not always easy to be around every Sunday. I think that all the boys would love to play every week - but for different reasons just aren't able to. We're at the age where knocks and scrapes take longer to heal too so there will always be weeks where someone can't feature because some big lump kicked them the week before! We're not kids anymore so the freedom to do what we like every Sunday just isn't realistic and responsibilities in other parts of our lives play their part too.
I do think, however, that with a settled team or squad each week we would have more, essential discipline in our actual play resulting in better performances and of course more wins.

Yet again, the opportunity to play in a 'stadium venue' presented itself on Sunday because North Greenford United allow their Vets to use the main pitch complete with the odd tiny stand and dug-outs etc. Once again, the pitch was massive although the actual playing surface wasn't the best. A bit bobbly in places and a wee bit hard.
It was nice to see a couple of the lads who I'd only seen on my very first game such as Andy (AK) and Luffy, and in total we had 13 players - not too bad really. Lev announced that Pete wanted to play midfield today which in truth was met with the odd raised eyebrow from one or two - Pete would have the last laugh though as he put in a proper shift during the game and claimed our third goal (more of that later.)
I was well up for it as I hadn't played for three weeks and hoped that wouldn't have too much of an effect.
The game started and I remember talking to myself "Come on Greg - let's have a good one today."
Two minutes later we were 1-0 down - and yep, it was kinda my fault. The ball came forward into the left corner of my box and Nick the Skipper had time to get it away - in-fact I did call "AWAY" as their attacker charged in. Nick chose to trust me and rolled it over to me to kick it clear. Good idea - except I totally scuffed my kick straight to one of them. OK, so it did get defected for a corner but of course as it floated over to my back stick their big number 10 rose and headed home.
I'd seen him before kick-off and had thought he'd be good in the air. We always seem to come up against big blokes and this chap looked like Grant Mitchell - bald, a bit fat, and like he could rip my head off with one hand. Oh what joy...

Latymer Vets then decided that for the next thirty five minutes they were going to play some of the best football I think I've ever seen from any team mates I played with. It was unbelievable. Nick did his usual and organised the defence, Mark and Luffy were so in tune with each other down the left hand side it was silly, Lev was doing a sterling job moping up any loose balls and Jonesy was (as ever) totally running the midfield. Add to that Paul and Matt up front who were running their socks off and Shamsey who, standing in at Right-Back was putting in a great performance. I like Shamsey - he's a quiet lad who just wants to be involved and is happy to play wherever and whenever he is asked. I also think he's a better player than he's perhaps given credit for. Lots of energy and quite skill full too.
The passing on show was simple but very effective. We kept the ball and created space by actually moving for passes back. We really deserved a goal and a second of quick thinking saw Matt (I think) deliver a superb throw-in for Paul to run onto down our left channel. The finish was bloody brilliant as a firm chip flew over their keeper who was nowhere as it went over his head. 1-1.
Minutes later and we were only bloody 2-1 up!! This time it was Matt who was put through (possibly by Paul - I couldn't see) and again an almost carbon copy of a superb finish from just about the same position as Paul's goal was lofted over the hapless Keeper who looked gutted to have been beaten twice by the same sort of shot.
Delirium nearly set in as not long after that we only went and chuffing scored again!! And yes it was that man Pete who calm as a cucumber slotted past the keeper after yet another superb quick throw-in went past their back line in to the path of 'Powerhouse Pete.' Shamsey had done brilliantly (although a little dangerously) dribbling the ball out of the Right-back position and past two of their players and then managing to win the all important throw-in. I'm not sure if this throw-in tactic is one that we've developed or planned because I think Lev had said that our goal the week before came in a similar fashion, and we also scored one in the same way a few weeks back against Garston. Even so, Pete found himself with all the time in the world and had plenty of time to get 'the fear' and miss. He didn't, and we would have loved the game to have ended their and then. Alas not...
Yet, again we did what only we seem to be able to do - self-destruct and implode.
Greenford managed to pull us back to 3-3 with 2 quick goals which probably came from a lack of concentration somewhere. I wasn't having my best game. It must be said my earlier scrappy kick had pissed me right off and I was doing my best to get my head back into the game properly. The way we had been playing had helped ease pressure of my goal area but then with ten mins to half time we just stopped doing all the good things that we had been doing to get our three goals. The break came and I think we were glad to go in at 3-3 as they had taken control back of the game.

We were well in with a chance of winning the game if we could only recapture half of the form from the first half. We even managed to go 4-3 up inside ten minutes of the restart as we pushed on to try and take all three points. A super free-kick into their box saw Paul rise and get a headed flick past their keeper and we thought game-on!

Then came half an hour of naive football and we simply imploded. There were no-more highlights and we conceded two quick goals to go 5-4 down. They cut us open down our right and we switched off too much. Goals six and seven followed quickly and while on a personal note I was pleased to get a double stop in with a push onto the bar from one looping shot and a Hollywood leap to my left to turn the follow up round the post - I was to blame for goal number eight when from the resulting corner I came flying out, screamed "Keepers!" and totally missed my punch on an easy ball leaving Grant Mitchell an easy powerful header to score. Gutted.
Grant Mitchell ended up scoring five as they added two more goals to finish at 10-4. Unbelievable. There was even another slightly smaller bald fat bloke who scored a couple for them - must've been Grant's brother, Phil.

Totally a game of two halves. Embarrassing really because we let ourselves down and our tails were well and truly between our legs as we trudged off.

The positives are there to take away - my only hope is that we don't let this result and second half performance get to us too much. Lots more games to play still, so fingers crossed for a bit of luck next week.

This weeks look-a-like has to go to Wrexy - who I actually haven't seen for a few weeks but genuinley looks like Steve McClaren!

Latymer Vets v William Fitt in the AFA cup. LOST 1-4

2011-10-21T06:24:00.000-07:00

Just a brief post this time to keep a bit of a time-line together in terms of how the Vets are doing this season. I had to miss the game as it fell on my birthday and we had made plans to go down to Gosport to visit my parents and have a night out with friends in Gunwharf.
37 years of age now!! Crikey, it seems a bit unreal - only because in my head I'm still 21...
The funny thing is that I'm probably more looking my age than ever before now because I've stopped dying my hair. The Vets lads will know no different as they've only ever known me with the plethora of white hair that now flecks through my barnet. Little do they know but I only stopped dying it black after my wedding in June of this year. I'd always said that I would never stop dying it because I knew just how much chuffing white hair would show if I didn't! Vain? Hell yeah!!
It started about ten years ago really. I started getting funky salon-type hair cuts with shaved bits and cropped sides etc and had a full head of dyed black hair with other extreme colours streaked through it at different stages. Each hair cut was always different with a new colour every time ranging from red to purple to blue to blond to anything that goes! I thought it looked cool and for a time it complemented my DJ image...and cost a fucking bomb every time! I think I spent more on bloody hair cuts than anything else!
In the last year I went black all over and cut the funky colours and even then stopped the funkier cuts and went for something a 'bit more my age.'
Ewelina had harped on at me about just letting it go completely and I scoffed at her - Never in a million years! I had this fear of looking like Father Fucking Christmas because if I let my beard grow I really do look like a sun-tanned Kris Kringle.
Anyway, with the approach of my 37th birthday it just sort of hit me to give it a go and stop putting colour in my hair. And as it turned out, I actually don't mind it at all. It's certainly different to what I've been used to but Ewelina is very happy with it and most people say "oooh it looks much better now!"
The only person who turned her nose up when she saw the new-look grey was my flaming Mum! Never one to hold back her opinion she told me I look old now! Cheers Mum, love you too!

So the Vets team drafted in Lev 'Yashin' to stand between the sticks in my stead and by all accounts were a little unlucky with what I've heard was a fairly decent performance. Lev sent out an email to sum up the performance which featured a dislocated shoulder for Lol, who was back to get a game in at left-back as the game fell on a Saturday this time. Thankfully, Lol was able to get discharged from hospital fairly quickly and was left feeling rather sore. Now unavailable on Sundays due to committing to take his son to his own match for Latymer Youth, Lol is trying to retire full stop! The boys are having none of it though so hopefully he'll be coaxed in to playing again in the future.
Lev's email was as follows:

'Against a good, previous winner of the competition we gave a reasonable account of ourselves.

Pete put us 1-0 up early on after a long throw from Matt surprised everyone with its distance.

It certainly shows we can compete BUT cannot afford to switch off at any time. 3 first half goals were results of someone somewhere switching off for a minute resulting in us getting into problems and conceding unnecessary goals, one a penalty.

The second half was a bit scrappy but we did play some better football and kept the ball better. Yes the oppo were still the better side and had the better chances but it showed that when we competed and got in their faces a bit they lost a bit of shape.

We were unfortunate to play last 15-20mins with 10men because of a serious injury to Lol who dislocated his shoulder. The shoulder was put back in on site by the ambulance staff and after a visit to the hospital and a quick decision not to wait two hours for an x ray he was home, early in the evening although stiff and sore is all well.

Thanks to Adam who looked after lol while he was waiting and Dino who went with him to hospital.

It also showed that Subs are not subs in our game, and we should consider all named as a squad. Thanks to Scottish John who borrowed a car to get to the game and came on after 20 mins when Adam pulled his hamstring'

So, we look forward to better times this Sunday as we go off to play North Greenford United. I'm really looking forward to the game as it's three weeks since the Winchmore tournament and I haven't played since. The team is looking a bit thin on the ground again due to absences and injuries so possibly a bare eleven!! Come on lads - we need a better squad out on a Sunday if we're going to compete in any way shape or form.

No look-a-like this week as I was away so I'll target someone on Sunday!

Winchmore Hill Vets Tournament

2011-10-03T15:05:00.000-07:00

I love tournament football.

It takes me back to when I was a kid of about nine or ten and was playing for my very first 'proper' team, Centurion Colts and then later on, Gosport Raiders. I remember playing in various 5-a-side tournaments and loving the atmosphere generated by the sheer amount of different teams (sometimes as many as twenty) and all the mixed colours of team kits and over-eager parents cheering (and jeering!) the kids on.

Those first days in playing organised football are as fresh in the mind as if they were yesterday. Although in my teenage years and early twenties I was more of a centre-back/midfielder, I did begin as a goalkeeper. I have no idea why I ended up in goal except that I genuinely loved it between the sticks and was actually pretty good. It started in the playground at junior school where we used to play something like 18-a-side, kicking a tennis ball around (we weren't allowed proper balls - they broke windows and were deemed too dangerous!) with me between a school jumper and the netball post and diving around scraping my knees trying to make saves. Not bad training really - if you can save a tennis ball then a proper football should be no problem...

I ended up playing for Colts because the word circulated that there was to be an under 9's team and so me and pal, Andrew Simpson rocked up and signed up! I only thought to ask my parents after joining the club. Luckily my Dad was happy for me to play and in truth I think I remember him saying that he was once a goalkeeper when he was young too. Dad is my hero so I think that the decision was made there and then. The very first game I ever played was a cold, wet Sunday morning and we were playing Seagulls, the top local club that had a billion teams and won everything. Damien, who would later become my best pal of 25 years was actually on the bench for Seagulls that day and we got stuffed 14-0. The best bit was that I had an absolute corker of a game and was given the bloody man-of-the-match award by our manager!! I even remember his words: "in spite of the score-line, the award goes to Greg." I almost began to cry with pride - it didn't matter that I'd actually let in fourteen fucking goals - but managed to stop myself and ran in to my Dad's arm who wasn't, it seemed, as successful as me at holding back the odd tear.

Nostalgia is a wonderful, funny thing. I bet we all can conjure up memories of yester-year and the ghosts of a footballing past that we all wish we could have again, even if just for 90 minutes.

My time with Colts took a turn for the worse when Bryan Timmins' Dad, also called Bryan, took over the running of the team. Bryan Senior was a bit of a fat, gobby bastard who just rubbed people up the wrong way. You know how it goes, a change of Manager means a change of regime, he brings in his own staff and team and new players and noses are put out of joint. And this was bloody kids football! And so a plot was conceived and a splinter group formed meaning a new team, Gosport Raiders, was born and bastardized under the expert management of Andrew Simpson's chuffing Mum!!

Gloria. Oh Gloria! You knew absolutely fuck all about football but bless you, you tried. In fairness, she only agreed to set up the club because of Andrew but my God we were shit. I played for them for two years before going off to boarding school (lots of stories in later posts I'm sure) and we only ever won one game. We got hammered every week and I developed a bad back from bending down to pick the ball out of the net! But it was at one of those 5-a-side tournaments that we actually ended up surprising everyone and getting to the final. Of course, we lost, but that didn't matter. We had been a decent outfit that day and come really close to glory.

So expectations were high in anticipation of the Winchmore Hill Tournament, featuring eight teams split in to two groups of four. 9-a-side, ten minutes each way, rolling subs and no offsides!! Lev set the tone in his email with the immortal words in his email on Thursday:

'With this youthfull looking side mixed with a blend of experience we are looking for glory in a tournament in which twice we have graced the final.'

Final? Fuck me a chance for a medal! I have to say I was more than a little excited by this carrot that was being dangled and the chance to exorcise the demons of a lost final aged ten was firmly in my sights. I was intrigued by the format too. 9-a-side and on a full-size pitch too! Surely this would mean an open style of game with lots of goals? It would also mean all the poor sods out on the pitch would be well and truly shagged. Yet again, I was more than a little bit chuffed that I was in goal.

Of course one thing that nobody factored for was the weather.

Ewelina opted not to come along but made me rolls and flasks of tea and coffee etc and off I went thinking I might get a bit of a tan.

Never in all my years can I ever remember a start of October like it. Ewelina and I enjoyed a lovely Saturday afternoon walking Jasper in the blistering sun that broke all records as the hottest October day in something like a hundred years. Sunday, the day of the tournament, of course just happened to hotter still.

Our squad was looking pretty decent but a real spanner was thrown into the works when news broke that Jonesy was going to be arriving late and might miss our first group match. Now I'm still getting to know everyone but I have sort of gathered that Jonesy is a bit of a die-hard Latymer chap and is a proper club man. So I thought it must be something pretty serious such as a dying Grandma etc for him to be arriving late... Er, No.

Jonesy had apparently forgotten about his other half's birthday which was the day after the tournament (Monday) and hadn't organised a birthday present!! Of course, the shops close early on a Sunday so in a panic he was flying around Enfield Town waiting for the doors to open so he could secure a gift and then race over to the rest of the team. Needless to say he came in for a bit of stick when he did finally arrive - just moments after our first game had indeed finished. I'm not sure if the sat nav that he got was for her or for him...As it turned out I think the team could have used it because we were well and truly lost for most of the day.

There were yet another couple of new faces for me to meet in our team as Gaz, Barnsey and Shamsey hadn't made it to either of the previous Vets fixtures. All really lovely fellers and really easy to get along with. Barnsey was definitely another proper staunch Latymer stalwart and was kind enough to declare a genuine interest and appreciation for this blog as he actually lives in Sweden and as he is only really ever back in the UK once a month, my write-up each week keeps him in touch with the games and what is going on. This was music to my ears of course because it is for these very reasons that I do the blog. Barnsey was very much a hands-on sort of chap and a definite leader. He reminded me of Hannibal from The A Team because he's got a super head of grey hair and seemed to be the one who had the plan. All that was missing was the leather gloves and the big fat cigar!

I totally missed the actual names of the other teams in our group but can tell you that we had a team in Yellow, a team in Blue and a team wearing the full West Ham kit! We watched a decent enough game that saw Yellows beat West Ham 1-0 and then it was our turn against the Blues in our first game.

This was a match that in hindsight should have gone a whole lot better than it did. The good thing was that we didn't lose - but then, we didn't win either. The best we could manage was 0-0 in an encounter where we actually played some decent passing football. Sadly, we lost Phibsey after only two minutes when his thigh muscle popped when taking a corner. A really decent player with lots of energy and good pace too! We tried to keep the ball as much as possible and the heat was by this time scorching. Scottish John even went on a mazy wee run towards their box only to brought down just outside the area. The chance to do something from the free kick was wasted when the ball hit the wall and all of a sudden the first ten mins were up and it was half time. Our second half performance saw us have the lions share of the ball and we really should have scored on more than one occasion. I think Paul will hold his hands up because he scuffed a couple of decent chances and we were nearly undone when they almost nicked it in the dying seconds. I'd had a fairly quiet game, having only really touched the ball a couple of time in the whole match. I dealt with one rasping shot straight at me with no problems and then right at the end we were carved open from pushing a little too high up the pitch. Luckily the ball that was put through was just a tad heavy and Codsey, playing superbly in the heart of the back three, got back and hassled the opposing striker just enough as the ball sprang through to me. It was at a funny sort of height and I had visions of me fumbling it forward back into the path of their man. As it was I went to ground and decided to let it rebound off my my knee and fortunately it flew off to my left and was cleared to safety.

Nil-fucking-nil. Not the end of the world at all. I mean England always draw their first group game in any championship and then progress through don't they...?

So Jonesy arrived and we had a break while West Ham beat the Blues and then we were on for our second game against the Yellows. We all knew that whilst we had just played the weakest team in the group we were now probably coming up against the strongest.

This was definitely a tougher encounter and all of a sudden we just stopped playing. Balls shanked off knees, passes went astray and nothing seemed to run our way. We lost our passing game and just couldn't seem to get into the match. The Yellows dominated the play and we were literally chasing shadows. The heat was making us all fucked and in truth the break after our first game didn't help. It would have been much easier maybe if we been able to play straight through. We got to half time at 0-0 but my moment of the day did actually come in that first half. They attacked down our right and the ball ended up at the feet of one of them just inside my box. The shot that was unleashed was powerful and was flying over my head but I did manage to somehow get enough of a flick from my left hand to send it over the bar. Phew!

In spite of not actually threatening their goal I actually thought we were going to make it two 0-0 draws in a row but alas it wasn't to be. Yellows broke down our right and it was played across my six yard line where Mr. Attacker easily slipped the ball past me. I was pissed off because I wished I had scrambled over quicker and closed the angle better. The game finished 1-0 and with that it meant we had to beat West Ham to stand any chance of finishing second and going into the semi's.

Our lot were a bit jaded really going into the last match and the pace was somewhat slower from the off. Maybe they were fucked too?! Again, we were sloppy and again we just couldn't organise much of a threat on their goal. Nick and Jonesy were trying to run things from the midfield and Mark was doing well getting up and down our left but our final ball just never seemed to come off. Yet again though we got to half time at 0-0. Nick, absolutely went bonkers as we were giving the ball away loads and we knew we needed a goal from somewhere. Frustratingly, within two minutes of the restart there was a goal - from them. Their pressure on our goal paid off as a low shot from the edge of the area found its way low and hard just inside my left post. Could I have done better? I don't know. I saw it in plenty of time and if I was a few inches taller or had longer arms then maybe.

2-0 came a couple of minutes later when the ball flew was lashed in from my right and richoched of Nick's knee and literally flew in between my legs grazing my nuts on its way into the net.

And so that was it. Three games, one point, zero goals scored and three against. There had been talk of the losing sides going into a knockout for the 'plate' but the heat and dejected spirit of all the four teams that were 'out' meant that we didn't bother so instead we headed for the bar and free lasagna & chips.

There's nothing quite like an ice cold Magners on a scorching hot day. Some of us stayed and watched the Yellows get beaten in the final 2-1 by Winchmore Hill but most intriguing was the news that they had a bloke playing for them up front who had genuinely played for fucking Marseilles in the flaming Champions League!! No offence but that just takes the piss.

No Lev either this week which was a shame because I was hoping I could borrow his talc!

And so to a bit of housekeeping...

This weeks look-a-like must go to Alex 'Hannibal' Barnes.

I love it when a plan comes together.

And finally, I've put a poll up which I'd appreciate you selecting from. It's for which squad number you think should go on to the back of my goalkeeper shirt. Do make a selection please as well as popping yourself down as a follower of this blog. You can also write your email address into the strip on on the top right corner and you'll receive an alert whenever there is a new post.

Watford 0 v 1 Nottingham Forest

2011-09-25T13:24:00.000-07:00

So no game for me this weekend but I did manage to get to see Forest play at Watford so I thought I'd offer some thoughts on the game instead.

I have always managed to get to a few games a season but last year was the first season where I didn't make a single match so I resolved to fix that and buck my ideas up for this term and arranged as usual to meet my cousin, Mick Oram, who is probably Forest's number one fan! You see, Mick simply never misses a game. In fact I think the last game he missed was something like the first game of the season 1982! Mick also runs the official travel club for Forest and has been heavily involved with the football club for most of his life, including a few fanzines. So if ever I need a ticket he's the man to sort it for me and I'll meet him in the closest 'away' pub before the game for a few liveners. Living in Hertfordshire, there was no excuse for not making the Watford game this time so we hooked up in the Wetherspoons at around 3pm as it was a 5.15pm kick off as it was live on BBC.

It's always a bit funny for me when I'm surrounded by other Forest fans because I'm so used to being the only one. Everyone I know seems to support Spurs, Arsenal or Man Utd - or another Premier League side. I sometimes get quizzical looks when I'm walking around Cheshunt in my Forest shirt and I always get asked why do I support them. Well, the answer is I was born that way! It's that simple. All my Dad's family are from Nottingham and Forest are the family team. My Dad grew up following Forest and I inherited this as much as I did all his mannerisms and the way he looks. I can't help it, I wouldn't change it and I'm bloody proud of it.

Of course, being a Forest fan for me between the ages of 0 and 18 were magnificent days. League titles and European Glory with regular trips to Wembley were par for the course for all Forest fans. We were the team to follow and of course we were spoilt with a diet of exquisite football from some of the best players to ever play in the top flight (Robertson, O'Neill, Gemmill, McGovern - I could go on....Psycho etc) and we had the best manager the game has ever seen in Brian Clough.

Everybody knows about the relegation's and subsequent years in the wilderness so for me life as a Forest fan in the last 18 years has been a bit 'hellish.' Sure, we enjoyed finally getting out of League One but there have been a catalogue of embarrasing players who have pulled on the Garibaldi red shirt in recent times as well as some appalling performances on the pitch. The David Platt episode nearly saw us go out of business with stupid, terrible siginings coming in on silly wages, and a board who didn't have a clue how to add two and two together let alone run a football club. Ridiculous appointments in the form of Joe "it's just another game that doesn't mean anything" Kinnear (referring to Forest v Derby!) and Gary "twat" Megson, left us all reeling as if we'd been punched in the mouth and I must admit, I struggled to see any light at the end of any tunnel.

My own belief is that we did well out of Colin Calderwood who eventually got us out of League One before probably taking us as far as he could before the fantastic Billy Davies came in and got us playing the best football since Cloughie walked accross the Trent. Finally it seemed we were back in business and the promised land of the Premier League was just a heartbeat away but play-off heartache has become something of a regular end of season feeling although that doesn't make the pill any easier to swallow. Billy's constant out-spoken rants at the board and their lack of decisiveness in the transfer markert became a weekly event on the telly and in the newspapers as well as his usual lines about "this young team" and "lack of players." From a fans point of view, I was chuffed with signings like Earnshaw, Moussi and Majewski and no-one works harder than Chris Cohen, but had to genuinly question the ambition of the club when the reinforcements that we so desperately needed (and everyone could see we needed) to get us over the finish line just never transpired. The stupid bloody 'aquisitions panel' seems such a long, useless drawn out affair that simply doesn't make any sense. I'm all in favour of the board being careful but the way they operate is so amateur-ish that I think it puts players off from wanting to join us. Why employ a manager in Billy Davies, who clearly knows what he's doing and what he needs in terms of playing staff , only to not listen to what he's telling you? I just don't get it. None of us do.

Poor Billy would have stuck with Forest had they not sacked him and his settled team would have been added to in the summer with the right players to allow us to progress. I firmly believe that he was treated harshly and I would always thank him for his services to the football club because he wore his heart on his sleeve and gave it everything.

Having said all that I must admit I was excited with the (immediate!) appointment of Steve McClaren. I was thinking, right he's got contacts in Europe, he's won the Dutch title, and apart from the England saga he is a decent coach! Finally we had promising signings coming in such as Greening & Andy Reid & Boateng.

Then all of a sudden it felt like I was in a time warp. All of Billy's lamenting was now coming out of the mouth of McClaren! The club hadn't learned anything and the dreaded aquisitions panel were once again slowing everything down and the signing of Wayne Routledge (a nailed on certainty according to all the papers) went tits-up. He'd got bored of waiting and joined Swansea. Ishmael Miller and Matt Derbyshire eventually were solid signings but I'm convinced that Wesley Verhoek, after agreeing to join us, took one look at the Micky Mouse way the club is run and cancelled his medical and left Nottingham without even looking back. Why-oh-why can't anything be simple? No further signings before deadline day. Not a left-back. Not a sausage.

The biggest laugh of all was getting a text from Damien: "Steve McClaren is considering his future at Nottingham Forest." Sky News confirmed this for me and I shook my head in disbelief. Our club was a joke. I mean come on!! I thought all the embarrasing days were behind us. A shitty start to the season, nine or ten players out and only five coming in and a squad that was even more depleted than last season. I actually wouldn't have blamed Steve if he had walked but he must have had an inkling about the way Doughty operated when he took the job?!

For me, Nigel Doughty doen't know his elbow from his arsehole. He's hiding behind Financial Fair Play because he hasn't got the bollocks to go all in. If you're going to invest 65 million quid into a football club then wouldn't you want to be in the Premier League? Wouldn't you want to take a chance or two? I'm not saying be frivilous and sign shit, but for fuck's sake Billy was saying it, the new gaffer, McClaren is saying it and so are all the fans - WE HAVEN'T GOT THE FUCKING SQUAD FIT ENOUGH TO COMPETE! Doughty sprouts on about FFP and being financially viable etc but I believe he's settled for Championship football. He hasn't got the minerals to take this great club forward and thinks we all owe him something because he's put his hand in his pocket occassionaly. I'm sorry but it's not good enough. I look at Leicester and West Ham and and all the other top sides in our division and the players they have brought in to strengthen their sides and I think it makes us look a laughing stock. Promotion favourites at the start of the season? You're having a fucking laugh. Doughty's mouth-piece, Mark Arthur, is just doing his bidding so I don't actually direct my anger at him. He's just a waste of space who is a spineless yes-man who should resign out of respect to all the Forest fans who have paid his wages for the last God-knows how long. We're not proud of the owner of our club - in fact we're pretty bloody ashamed.

Last week's suicidal performance at home to 'the sheep' drove the dagger deeper in to our hearts (especially losing Cohen for a year with a ruptured cruciate) and so it came as no surprise when Mick told me we'd only brought about 800 fans with us to Watford. I've been there before and we always sell out our allocation so it seemed the fans were voicing their thoughts by staying away. OK, the match was on TV so most probably thought it was sensible to save a few quid - especially whilst we were playing shit. But, it hurts a bit to see the fantastic Forest fans turning their back on the team.

A brighter performance at home to Newcastle in the Carling Cup in mid-week gave us all optimistic hopes and the emergency loan sigining of Clint Hill from QPR on Friday finally saw us land a proper left-back - albeit for 90-odd days....

I sat in the pub before-hand and chewed the fat with Mick and a couple of his mates and then made our way to Vicarage Road for the game.

Unfortunately, there isn't an awful lot to write about the match because it was one of the most boring games I've ever been to. We were perplexed to see Joel Lynch playing left midfield and it didn't actually click till later that in-fact McClaren had gone with a back three of Hill, Chambers & Morgan with Lynch and Gunter as wing-backs! Greening, McGugan & Moussi operated as a midfield three with Findley and Miller up top.

It was a messy game with no real fluidity and I don't remember us testing the Watford goal at all in the first half. Lee Camp, in the Forest goal was pretty quiet too but when called in to action dealt with any threat with ease. I think there was one good save from former Forest striker, Joel Garner's head that he had to make but there were hardly any shots on goal from either side. The game was pretty much taking place in the midfield with missed passes aplenty and the lack of penetration from Forest was frustrating to say the least. We just wanted them to put something together but it just seemed to much to ask for. Half time couldn't come quickly enough and when it finally did the most positive thing was that at least we weren't losing!

The second have wasn't much better and Mick's friend, Steve, was in the middle of jokingly blaming me for a lack of goals when we went and bloody scored! It came out of nowhere really - a long boot up field by Camp, bounced once and over their centre-back and Miller pooped in to slip it past the on-rushing Watford 'keeper, Loach. We were all a bit stunned really but took the goal gladly and celebrated accordingly.

I had visions of us shooting ourselves in the foot (a traditional Forest trait) but Watford weren't up to much at all and apart from the odd flurry at either end, the game sort of petered out and ended with a much needed victory. I'm usually full of words and love to write detailed reports but the game just lacked any real spirit.

It was a scrappy win and I'm praying will be a platform for us to go on a decent winning run of games - only time will tell...

Latymer Old Boys Vets away @ Garston Vets (lost 5-1)

2011-09-18T11:35:00.000-07:00

I asked Lev after our game for the 5's who the Vets were playing next week.

"We're away to Garston at the Met Police ground in Bushey. They finished top last season so it could be a busy day for you..."

Hmm. Ok, so what Lev was really saying was we could get stuffed. Well, I was feeling pretty good after my performance that day so thought bring it on...

I was a bit concerned when Lev sent an email out on the Wednesday before the game on Sunday saying that we were short of players! Surely not - I mean last time out we had bloody 20 players! My heart sank as I remembered that Garston were supposed to be shit-hot and it was going to be difficult enough. We were encouraged to source some players so I spoke to Damien but he was unavailable and couldn't play but I thought if there was one bloke I could call on it would be the legendary Scottish John.

Scottish John and I have been best friends for about fourteen years having first met at University and then never losing touch. We shared a flat straight after Uni but rather than go our separate ways and drift apart, our friendship was too solid and we always made sure that we catch up regularly and have enjoyed some right laughs over the years. John is a true blue-blooded Scotsman and is a real Braveheart type of bloke. It's funny though because although he was born in Scotland and is a die hard member of the 'Tartan Army,' he actually supports the only English team to play in the Scottish league - Berwick Rangers! Basically, John is from just over the border and Berwick, whilst on the English side, was John's local team growing up. When we were at Uni, John even organised the football team onto a wee trip up to Berwick (via a memorable night out in Newcastle) to watch the mighty Black & Gold Rangers on the Saturday and then into a football tournament on the Sunday. There were even three or four more similar trips in the years that followed and one of my greatest football memories was playing in goal on Shielfield Park, the home of Berwick Rangers. Funniest though was in a tournament in Manchester when I managed to pull off an unbelievable save that was flying into my top right hand corner. I got up off the floor and turned around to see Scottish John literally crying with laughter - he couldn't believe the save and was rolling around on the floor pissing himself!! John and I also played for a team in Watford called The Boys Home at the end of the nineties so we had good history together, and more recently I had roped John in to play for ALC FC in the last couple of years when I was the player/manager. John has always been a very solid player but in fairness at the age of 44 has probably lost a yard or four in pace. Nevertheless, still a very good Vets player and I didn't hesitate in giving him a call to see if he wanted to step in and help out.

Sure enough, the Scotsman was well up for it and I informed Lev that we had an extra player.

The purpose of me writing this blog was just to take a light-hearted look at the highs and lows of a Sunday morning goalkeeper, and in truth I had to do a bit of catching up with the first few posts because I'd only thought about doing it once the season was underway. Even so, I realized this week that it was probably a bit pointless if no-one was going to read it. Apart from a few of the lads in my office, the blog was off people's radar - because no-one knew about it. I think in the back of my head that I had always intended to put the word out once there were three or four posts done so on Friday I sent out the link to everyone who had been listed on Lev's email list. I must admit I was a little tentatvive because I didn't want it to be taken the wrong way - I mean I'm the new kid and no-one realy knows me. But, in the spirit of getting the blog read I knew I had to at least put it in front of my team mates.

I got a few replies from some of the guys who had had a read and I must say the response was exactly what I had hoped for. I take playing football and for Latymer really seriously as do all the boys, but a bit of light relief does nobody any harm. Of course now it's being read I guess I'll have to pick my words carefully.....

The only other thing that happened in the week was my decision to get a new goalkeeper shirt. I'd been wearing my grey ALC FC shirt since the season opened and to be honest there was nothing wrong with it. It had no rips or tears and had been the only shirt I'd worn for two years. I think that was part of it - but now I was playing for a new team I wanted to get a new shirt. The heroics of my last game for the 5's had probably had an effect as well because I probably felt I could step up the stakes in the 'flashness' department. I'd had a look on ebay where there were loads of goalkeeper shirts of varying bright illuminous colours and while I was looking for something better than the dull grey I already had I didn't want to look a twat. So I'd left it thinking I'd sort it later - but then ended up in Tilly's sports shop on Friday because I was picking up a football kit for one of the schools that my company were sponsoring. Tilly's is an Aladdin's cave of football and sporting goods and kit and I know Stuart, the owner, well.

"Got any Keeper shirts Stuart?" I asked

"Um, yeah we just had a new lot come in - wanna take a look?" (of course I did)

The last time I'd looked a couple of years ago all he'd had were these horrible garish shirts that reminded me of Peter Schmichael's disgusting Man Utd top of the mid-nineties. When he pulled down his cardboard box I felt like a 5 year old waiting to unwrap his birthday present. I mean come on - it's a fucking goalkeeper shirt!! I tried to remain cool but then he revealed what he had...I had a choice of Pro Star or Nike. There was only one Nike which was the same colour as my current shirt so that was out (it was also £30 and while I was in the market to look snazy etc I was going to pay that). He had three in the Pro Star with a choice of Lime Green, Lemon Yellow or Deep Purple. I was immediately drawn to the Deep Purple shirt (a) because the Lime or the Lemon would have made me look like a great big piece of fruit and (b) because the purple, I felt, hit the right tone - not too much so I looked a complete cock, but just enough to stand out a bit... Stuart always gives discount so sliced the price down from £22 to £20, which I was more than happy with, then did a funny thing when I was paying by slicing it down further to £18 because be "hadn't given me enough off!" Result.

Ewelina rolled her eyes when I got home and produced my new prize but I was a little disappointed when I opened it because there was no number one on the back!! Dispair!! I quickly recovered and decided that I would get a number printed on as soon as possible - but then had a moment of inspiration. Why not have a different number than the usual, standard 'number 1'??? Better still, why not let the readers of this blog decide on what my squad number should be? So that's what I've decided to do. I want to hear from you with your thoughts on what my squad number should be and more importantly - why? I have ruled out numbers 2-11 as they are standard traditional outfield numbers but other than that anything goes. Rememeber to add yourself as a follower and leave a comment at the foot of this post with your verdict.

I met Scottish John in the car park and we made our way to the changing rooms. Lev mentioned the blog staright away saying he had't had a chance to see it yet as he's been away but was going to view it as soon as he could. A few others mentioned they'd read it and they seemed really positive so I was pretty pleased but knew I was under real pressure now to firstly stick to writing it and secondly to at least remain interesting!

The purple 'keeper top was on and with the brand new white socks that Nick-the Skipper had brought, I was at least looking the part.

We had eleven men to start (with two more on their way) and I must say I felt pretty relaxed. It's amazing how quickly I had started to feel at home with these boys. I even remembered some names from our first game two weeks earlier and quickly got up to speed with the rest. Mark, Wrexy & Nick were joined in the back four by Scottish John with Adam, Lev, Jonesey & Richie in midfield with Matt & Paul up front. I thought we seemed quite solid and wasn't too concerned as the game started that Garston retained and passed the ball between themselves for the first few minutes. Nick led the cry to keep our back four tight and the midfield formed a good front wall of protection. Things were going OK and then got even better because we bloody scored!!

Adam picked the ball up on right midfield and hit it up towards Matt who was in the centre forward position. Their defender let it bounce and it sliced past him to Matt who did really well to slide a pass in behind their right back which Paul ran on to. Paul was powerful and held off the tackle brilliantly to smash it accross the keeper into his bottom right corner. A super finish.

I'd been warned before the match about their centre forward and this guy was fucking huge. He was about 6ft 3" but was just a bulky, fat, solid wall of a man. To quote one of the lads (Wrexy, I think) later on "He belonged in the WWE." He must have been no younger than 45 and he looked like Sam Allardyce. So we'll call him Big Sam. Big Sam's game was built around his aerial prescence and he knew exactly where he needed to be for any crosses. They drew level when Scottish John clattered into the back of one of them on the right corner of my box giving away a free kick. Our defence tried to hold their line just outside my six yard box as the ball was whipped in to Big Sam who seemed to have been left all alone. He had all the time in the world and nodded past me to make it 1-1. I had no chance to get near it but was still pissed off. I hate conceding soft goals and this one was softer than shite.

Sadly, we didn't learn from the glaring fact that any cross into our box was going to be met by Big Sam's bonce. We went 2-1 down ten minutes later when a cross from their right was floated over only to find Big Sam all alone (again!) to nod home his and his teams second - into an open net. I'd tried to scramble accross but had no chance.

The thing was, we were doing all right. Our defence was holding its line really well and the midfield pressed when needed but also knew when to back off and hold their line too. Jonesey, in the centre of the park was bossing the midfield and was everywhere - dropping deep to collect the ball as well as setting up our attacking play.

I was happy to collect a couple of shots straight at me but almost had a 'moment' when another cross came into my box and found Big Sam. He headed (obviously) the ball but it lacked real power this time and it went accross my right. It was a bit of an easy take really but I didn't read it properly and rather flapped at it. Yes, I stopped it - but it was a parried effort that fell out of my hands and had there been an attacker running in, he'd have had a tap in. As it was I was able to get up quickly and then dive on it.

We got to half time and I probably got a bit carried away with a rant at everyone for not getting organised at free kicks. Basically, we weren't getting a decent wall set up and there seemed to be no-one listening to me shouting for a bigger wall etc. I won't apologise for making the point but Paul was right when he told me to calm down.

The opening fifteen minutes of the second half and we would have found ourselves ahead again had lady luck smiled on us. Paul had a speculative long range effort which shaved the post and Matt had a thunderbolt of a shot literally just go over. We were playing well and making a real game of it when they scored again. And it was another header again. And by Big Sam- AGAIN! Another cross from their right that looped to the back post to find Big Sam climbing all over Scottish John to power home. I'd got back accross and it even skimmed accross the top of my head. Had the ball come in two inches lower I'd have save it with my nose!

Five minutes later it was 4-1 and yes you've guessed it... A cross from the left this time and Big-fucking-wanky-fat-bastard-Sam headed it in. I got half a hand on it this time but never enough to divert it over.

To be fair our heads never dropped for an second and we could have scored again after Adam launched a goal kick (I've never played with anyone who can kick the ball further from a dead ball by the way) and it caught their defence off guard. Matt ran on to it into the box but saw his shot just go wide. Their Keeper pulled off a decent stop too from one of our lads (couldn't see who from where I was) who turned and shot neatly but saw it pushed wide.

I was calling and shouting much more today and was pleased with a good grab out of the air from a corner after screaming "KEEEPPEEERSSS!!" and then my best moment came when they split our defence open for their striker (not Big Sam) to be through on goal in a one-on-one with me. I stood tall and didn't go down early at all and as he fired I managed to get something on it - my hip I think - and put it over. I was pleased to at least managed one decent stop!

There was time for them to score a fifth - a shot from the edge of the box that flew in to my bottom right corner which I could do nothing about - before a rather nasty moment involving me and Big Twat. I came out to get a hand on a ball that had dropped into my box. I could see Fat Bastard out of the corner of my eye coming in too and I just knew I was going to get clattered. I could tell (from the angle he was coming in that he actually didn't need to make contact) that what happpend next was deliberate. I felt an elbow crash into the back of my neck/head and I went down like I'd been shot. I thought there'd be a bit of a demonstration from our lot and some kind of dressing down from the Ref. I can only assume it had hadn't been seen because no one said a word. My neck and the back of head fucking killed and Big Fat Sam had gotten away with it. Rather than make a song and dance about it I just kept quiet. Looking back, I find myself getting angry because there was no need for it and had he connected any harder I could have been in serious trouble! The twat had scored four headers but it seemed had decided he wanted my head as some sort of trophey!

The game ended and it was only then that Richie said he'd seen the elbow and was equally disgusted.

We were positive and optimistic after the game because in spite of the score line we had actually played well, created chances and stood up and got counted. Nick was immense in the second half - always talkng and looking for every ball, but I think the team should be pleased with good progress from our first disappointing fixture. In the changing rooms it transpired that Nick had apparently done a spot of look-a-like work in the past - we all quickly tried to guess who but were baffled when it was revealed to be Jurgan Klinsmann! Admittedly, we all pisssed ourselves laughing especially when Nick agreed he looked more like Worzel Gummidge! I think from now on a feature will have to be look-a-likes. This week we have to start with Jurgan Gummidge AKA - Nick-the-Skipper...

The attitude of the Vets is quite refreshing actually. In the bar afterwards, Lev asked Wrexy how he was getting on with playing Centre Back. Wrexy replied that whilst if he was given the choice he would prefer not to play there, that he would play there whenever he was asked to. I thought this was a great attitude and he'd actually had a good game at the back for us today.

Scottish John had lasted about 65 minutes, coming off after over-stretching and nearly doing the splits. John's such an easy guy to have a natter with and the lads took to him quickly but I was really pleased that Lev wanted to keep him involved with the team from now on. We are back playing again for what is now our fourth team together so it'll be brilliant to have him around.

So no gaffs today but an extremely sore head after Fat Twat's appalling elbow.

No Vets game next Sunday and I'm off to watch Forest at Watford on Saturday so no football at all for me next weekend. I think I'll just spend the next two weeks throwing darts into a picture of Sam Allardyce and hope that Fat Twat breaks his head on the cross bar the next time he plays...

Latymer 5's away @ Old Grammarians (lost 3-0)

2011-09-13T10:00:00.000-07:00

So the week after my Vet's debut and we have no game on the usual Sunday morning. The opportunity to play for the 5's on Saturday afternoon was offered and in the spirit of wanting to get as much game-time in as possible I accepted the offer. I even persuaded Phil to make an appearance as well. Phil was the one who introduced me to Latymer in the first place as this was his 'Saturday' team, but he had taken a bit of a step away from Saturday football to focus on playing for his Sunday team. Phil has become a good pal over the past year through working in our day job together and it's always more fun when you play football with those who are your mates. Damien, my best mate, has gone a bit towards golf these days and even suggested I take it up!I think a one armed midget with blurred vision could swing a golf club better than me and get round a course in half the shots it would take me so I politely declined and decided to stick to putting myself through potential hell. Having said that, Damien recently played in a charity match (no he's not a celebrity) and reassured me that he still 'bossed the midfield'. He scored too so I think he's got the bug to play again. He's 36 too so is on standby to play for the Vets if we get stuck so watch this space.

So Phil managed to get a game with me in the 5's and off we went for what was to be a memorable afternoon for yours truly.

We eventually found the right entrance and met up with the rest of the team. The contrast between my first experience with the Vet's and this team was massive because the 5's were full of kids. Lev was there, as ever, and a few other older lads such as Neal and Andy, but I was looking at a bunch of 16 year olds. I was just about old enough to be their Dad which was a shocking revelation. I was a bit worried about the lack of experience - made worse because we had to start with ten men because two were 'running late.'

Right from the off we invited pressure. I was actually feeling pretty confident and managed to get Jamie, our young Centre Back to take goal kicks. There were even a couple of nine year olds behind my goal who became ball-boys so I happily avoided getting shagged chasing the ball. Result!

Phil was playing up front but we couldn't really get the ball up to him so he cut a frustrated figure and by the time our two missing players arrived we were ten minutes in and not an awful lot had happened...And then it became the best game I've had in a long time.

Now, readers of my fledgling posts will have noticed that I am more than willing to be brutally honest about any errors and gaffs I have made in the line of goalkeeping duty. So you must forgive me if this post becomes a bit of a boast fest but I had an absolute corker of a game.

Their main striker was, to put it bluntly, built like the side of a shit brick-house. He was about 6ft 4" and was ripped to pieces. I'll call him Steroid Steve. Or SS for short. This boy was clearly good in the air and at any opportunity they chucked it up for him to get his head on it. My first stop saw a header from SS that came in low to my right. A firm hand popped it round the post. We were off and running. My confidence and stature grew and when a shot came curling in I flew through the air to my left and put the ball wide. OK, so that particular shot was probably going wide anyway - but I wasn't to know that!! Another couple of high, looping cross/shots came at me and I did enough to get finger tips to put these wide too! I was even coming out for crosses and getting some punches to clear the ball.

A ball was played over my back four and as it came down just inside my box I could see I wasn't going to get to it before it bounced. Bounce it did - and bounce high. Out of the corner of my eye Steroid Steve was charging towards the ball and we were on a head on collision course which would only have one winner and that certainly wasn't going to be me. I hung back a stride and as he went up to head it past me, somehow I managed to get a proper strong slap on the ball - almost a volley ball move - and clear the ball away. Steroid Steve wasn't a dirty player but he clattered in to me and I felt like I'd been hit by a train. I landed like I'd been dropped from about twenty feet and I thought I was dead. The adrenaline got me up - just - and I did the old rub of the knee, making out I was alright. He'd hit me hard but I'd decided that nothing was going to go past me today!! That feeling lasted until just before half time when in one foul swoop I undid all of my hard work with the standard, predictable and unavoidable error that I just can't seem to get away from - even on such an 'on' day! I had dealt with a cross by getting a good fist on it, to get it away and thought to myself that the next time a similar ball came in that I should catch it. I mean why not? I was in superb form and could do no wrong today...

Two minutes later and we were 1-0 down. The ball came in from my left and was at such a good height and it was coming in at eye level. I thought right, this is it - Catch it. I even managed to scream "KEEPERS!!" and popped both hands up. The ball flew straight into my gloved hands - and then straight out again. It passed through like a hot knife thorough butter and went through the crowded six yard box to their player who prodded home. I couldn't believe it. It felt like the goalkeeping Gods were determined not to let me get carried away and had given me a gentle reminder that even though I was saving certain goals with flying saves, I was always going to make shocking errors.

I had time to recover by getting my body and hands behind a stinging free kick which re-instilled some confidence and then it was half time.

I was fired up and made a bit of an apology to the team. Phil was his usual positive self with much appreciated praise at the saves I'd made but I was gutted at that stupid error.

The second half got under way and I just hoped that I wouldn't cock up again. As it turned out, it was quite the opposite.

The match was barely back underway when our defence was carved right open with a pass that put their striker through one-on-one. He had red hair so we'll call him Ginge. Ginge had time. I mean he had plenty of time. He came forward into the box and rather than rush out I thought I'd stand my ground just pasy my six yard line and see what happened. Ginge unleashed a rocket of a shot which was flying well past my right and was quite low. Before I knew it I had launched myself sideways and got a full clean palm on it to put it wide. Talk about bloody reactions! My old nickname 'The Cat' gave itself a dusting off and planted itself firmly onto the back of my shirt - cos I was back!! It was an unbelievable save. In fact that was Lev's cry as the ball went round the post, and I was duly set upon by a mass of disbelieving team mates. Ginge was gutted but he was a good lad and offered a firm handshake in recognition of the stop.

But there was more...

Another lad was clean through into the box from our left and fired at my near post - strong hand put it wide.

Steroid Steve had another header which was popped clear away.

We went 2-0 down whan a long, looping speculative cross/shot that I genuinly couldn't get near, smacked against my left post and rebounded straight onto Ginge's head. He couldn't miss, and didn't.

3-0 was a cutback from our by-line to the edge of the six yard box that they couldn't miss from. The amount of chances that they had (and were denied from!) could have seen a cricket score so I could live with 3-0.

We struggled to create much really and apart from a couple of free kicks on goal we did't really trouble them.

There was time at the end to put in two more superb stops that are well worth a mention.

Another break on our goal led to a cross cominn in from my right. It found its way over to Ginge who powered a head on to the ball. I had watched the ball all the way and once it was goal bound it was going top left. It was nearly point blank - and yet The Cat got his finger tips on it to put it over. Ginge couldn't believe it. He was ready to go home I think.

And finally (and by this time it was just an onslaught) three of them lined up to have a shot. Their number 7 had been desperate to get a shot in all game and he fired in a similar way to Ginge's earlier effort that I'd saved. This time a I flew to my left a managed to parry the ball. It went back and another on of them had a go - I closed the angle and he fire over.

I was absolutely shattered at the end - but elated. Lev was full of kind words - I think he was thinking about The Vets and all that and Phil really gave me a boost in the car on the way home with genuine praise. He felt it would have been double figures if not for me so I was really chuffed. He even sent me a text later telling me he thought I'd be "excellent."

Ewelina listened patiently as I replayed every moment and ran me a bath, scrubbed my back and made me a super dinner.

Life was awfully good.

Latymer Old Boys Vet's away @ Maccabi Lions Vet's (lost 6-2)

2011-09-12T12:19:00.000-07:00

I got up quite early and must admit it felt a bit like Christmas morning. I think it had more to do with the hope and anticipation of what 'might be' than anything else. Also, the chance to impress and wipe the slate clean with a fresh start for a team that knew nothing of any previous goalkeeping errors, was just a bit too exciting!

I'd done the usual preparation with the cleaning of my boots and gloves etc and had neatly prepared my bag the day before. God, I must be a little bit sad. Does anyone else go through these kind of rituals and preparations for Sunday morning football?

Lev had contacted me in the week to take me up on my offer of using the spare kit that I had left from the ill-fated ALC FC's eventual demise. It seemed that Latymer's strip of blue & black (Inter Milan) clashed with Maccabi's all blue kit. Happy to help as ever, I duly prepared and folded the red and black shirts and loaded the kit bag into the back of the car.

I asked my wife, Ewelina, if she fancied coming along to lend a bit of support. We've only been married a few months and I'm very much of the opinion that I really am the luckiest guy alive with a wife like her. But, to be fair football isn't really her cup of tea. I probably watch too much football - any game that's on the telly really - and she is an absolute diamond because she rarely complains. I tried to get her enthused a little by harping on about the Polish boy, Radi Majewski, who plays for Forest. You see, Ewelina is from Poland so I thought If I could spark her interest a little then I could at least convert her to a follower of the 'Tricky Trees.' She wasn't buying it though. I even went a bit further by pointing out the Polish lad, Wojciech Szczesny, who plays in goal for Arsenal. All this did was make her think that Poland produced brilliant footballers rather than make her fall in love with the beautiful game. She was an absolute diamond over the summer though when I played in the Latymer 5-a-side tournament for Phil Hartley's team. Ewelina came along and brought our dog, Jasper, and we even did a whole pic-nic for the day. She was a bit puzzled why I was in goal though as she thought that that wasn't really playing! She asked, "Surely you want to run around a bit?" - Like fuck I do!! In the end I had to persuade her that I actually wanted to be in goal and that it wasn't some kind of punishment. She was impressed with a couple of dazzling saves she saw me make but that soon evaporated because we lost every game and ended up getting knocked out early. The sandwiches and crisps went down well though with the rest of our team - we'd made enough to feed the whole of Enfield!

Ewelina did promise me that she would come and watch a Vet's game at some point but not just yet... I dropped her off at the Catholic church in Waltham Cross and she went off to practice her religion and I went off to practice mine.

I have this habit of arriving early and as I drove into the car park I started to question if I was in the right place because there were two blokes in yellow jackets on car-park duty! I was directed left and drove past the main pitch that was possibly the flattest, biggest and greenest pitch (complete with dug-outs) I'd ever seen. The goals had those thick round posts and bars that you see at Wembley with nets professionally propped up at the back. There was even a white horizontal barrier all the way around the pitches perimeter for spectators to stand behind. There were other pitches further down too but this was the one I hoped we might be playing on. I remembered what Mark had said the week before about the lovely pitches that the Vet's get to play on and boy, he wasn't exaggerating.

I was pleased to find Lev was already there and he confirmed that we were indeed playing on that pitch! Introductions as the rest of the team arrived were as pleasant as I'd expected and Lev fielded questions about where "the nice new kit" was from. I think someone said something like; "Nice one Lev, not only have you found a goal keeper, he comes with a kit as well!"

I was used to being one of the oldest players last season for ALC FC. As I met the Vet's lads it quickly became evident that I was one of the youngest. I mean these guys are real men - proper. None of these fresh-faced youths or lightning quick 17 year olds. It was extremely refreshing to be in the company of like-minded blokes who just wanted to play football. Don't get me wrong, they are as competitive as ever - more so probably - but there didn't seem to be any illusions of grandeur or mis-placed dreams that Arsene Wenger had sent a scout along to watch them play. I was desperate to do well and have to be honest the nerves were kicking in. I just hoped for a nice early save to settle myself down.

I'm good with names usually but I have to say I found it difficult to remember everyone, which didn't help. The boys (men!) who were starting at the back included Wrexy who offered to take goal kicks for me even before I'd made my standard confession (see previous post). Two minutes later, Nick, the skipper, said hello "You OK with goal kicks Greg, or do you want me to take them?"

"Er, no it's OK Wrexy's gonna take care of them..."

I smelt a bit of a conspiracy - maybe Lev had already had a word? I call that good management!

The thing that I thought was the oddest but still the best bit about Vet's football is that they operate with roll-on & roll-off subs throughout - even for non-friendly games. It gives everyone the chance to have a decent game and not be pressured into getting too shagged. There are lots of subs too - unlimited amount it seems. I think we had about 17 players! They kept arriving and at this point I wasn't aware of the rotation system so didn't have a clue how Lev was gonna let so many down. "Er sorry but we've got about 27 players today so you might not get a game. Strip up though cos you never know..." What was interesting was last year when I ran ALC, I struggled some weeks to get a bare 11 - this lot turned up by the dozen. I think it goes to show that the nippers don't realize how quickly it all goes. I could never understand it when I had people not turning up on a Sunday morning, choosing to lake in bed probably and miss our match. These young lads don't know they're born half the time. When I was their age I never wanted to miss a game.

My Vets's debut turned out to be fairly decent from a personal perspective although we did end up getting stuffed 6-2! I've left it more than a week to get this post written so the nature of some of the goals have become a bit of a blur but their first was a cut back from the by-line for a basic tap-in - nothing I could do about that one. Number three was a penalty after Nick, the Skipper, was judged to have pushed the striker over. Nick was far from happy and disputed and moaned and then moaned some more. Not wishing to get on the wrong side of the Captain but I thought it was a penalty. I was sent the wrong way and it looked like we were in for a drubbing.

My highlight in the first half came in the form of a 'super save' that saw me fly across to my top left corner to get my finger tips onto the ball and push it on to the posy and then clear as it fell straight down on top of me. There were another couple of basic stops which any keeper would have dealt with and no real glaring errors. I must admit it took me a while to settle and I was happy when we got to half time. Our opposition were a good outfit and out lot were completely shagged. No pre-season friendlies - just straight in to the first game of the season. Even as a newcomer, I could tell that most of the boys were still shaking the rust off and I hoped we could at least make more of a game of it in the second half...

We scored really early with a good move throughout the team and I thought, hang on, we might be back in this. Then they replied pretty quickly to restore the three goal gap and I knew it just wasn't going to happen. I think number four was another cut back and tap in job; number five came as their player attempted to lob me - I got a decent enough hand on it but I was at full stretch and didn't have the momentum to put it over. As it fell their lad ran in and headed the ball in to the net. Number six was a bit disappointing too - I saved an initial header and would have hoped to push it safe. As it was it went straight to another one of them and he headed in. Our consolation goal right at the end was well deserved because in truth we did carve out three or four decent chances through the second half without reward.

So our tail was well and truly between our legs as we trudged off. I thoroughly enjoyed my debut in spite of the scoreline and enjoyed the beer in the bar after with some of the boys. Lev was kind enough to give me a decent mention in his post match summary email a few days later and that boosted my confidence in readiness for our next game.

Note to self: Come out and punch more....

Latymer Old Boys 4's/5's @ home to Goffs Old Boys (lost 4-2)

2011-09-08T12:31:00.000-07:00

I was thinking that it was a bit odd that the Vet's team weren't going to have any friendlies before the season got underway because surely we would need at least a bit of a run-out?! Apparently not. The tragic thing is that I'm more un-fit than anyone I know - basically I get absolutely shagged every time I have to run to get the ball if it goes past my goal. All of a sudden 36 is feeling like 46 and so I must admit that when the chance to get a bit of a game on a Saturday (with a mixed 4's & 5's team for Latymer) was suggested by Lev, I was really up for it.

Playing on a Saturday has never really appealed to me - I mean it falls smack bang in the middle of the day so the joys of witnessing Jeff Stelling going bonkers every time Hartlepool score goes out of the window along with the ability for me to track the Forest score every 2 mins. No, for me it's always been about Sunday mornings - although in the past couple of years that in itself was 'interesting'. But that's another blog....

The funny thing was that I'd been lined to up to make my debut for the Vet's and I had gotten a bit paranoid beacuase no one had even met me let alone seen me play! What if they changed their mind? So it was a good chance to at least meet Lev and some of the other Vet's lads. It turned out that I was to play the first half as there was another keeper down on the team sheet as well. This was more than fine by me - perfect in fact because I saw it as a bit of a 'meet and greet' and also less playing time for me to cock up!

Lev was as pleasant in person as he had been on the phone, although a flicker of unsurety glazed across his eyes when I broke the news to him in the changing room about my goal kicks...

Me: "Lev, I've got a bit of a confession..."

Lev: "Um, OK....?"

Me: "I need you to know that my goal kicks are terrible! An eight year old girl can kick it further."

Lev: "Really? Oh, OK. Don't worry, I'm sure we'll have some one who can do those for you. But, you're OK out of your hands though...?!"

Me: "Oh yeah no worries there - just dead balls. I'm a bit crap with those."

Lev seemed to breath a sigh of relief. I didn't have the heart to tell him that kicks "out of my hands" had always been a bit hit and miss too. Distance has never been a problem but let's just say my accuracy is questionable. If I rush then they banana off to the right. If I take too long to think about it then they go off to the left. It's definitely about timing and when I get them right my kicks are pretty decent. I left the changing room promising myself to stay focused and it would be OK...

I actually felt quite buoyant as we approached kick-off. Everyone made me feel really welcome so I thought I'd reciprocate with a bit of a speech in the team talk about organisation at corners and free-kicks etc. At least I sounded like I knew what I was doing! There was only one other Vet, Mark, who immediately I could tell was still a very decent player at about 45 and who also was a really nice guy. We chatted about the Vet's coming season and he told me about all the amazing pitches/grounds the Vet's get to play on. All of a sudden this seemed like it had been a really good idea indeed!

The game kicked off and for the first fifteen minutes all I seemed to do was run and fetch the bloody ball. The opposition kept firing wide or over and with nothing behind the goal I was absolutely fucked from all the running! I mean seriously, I knew I was out of shape but this was silly.

They got a free kick about 45 yards out so I confidently pulled the defensive line on to the edge of the box, assuring Lev at Centre Back that this was deep enough. Their 'danger man' was clearly the big, bald lad in the number 10 shirt, but it would have to be a hell of a ball for him or anyone to do anything with it....

The ball was powered into the box, straight over our back line in 'that area' where you know you're in trouble between the penalty spot and the edge of the six yard line. Our defence were back-pedalling and in truth I should have come out strongly to at least try and punch it clear. I opted to stay put - still sure that one of ours would get something on it and get it away. Of course none of that happened and the bald lad turned out to be a salmon cos he rose like nothing you've ever seen and literally powered a header like a bullet past me and about 5cm under my bar. All I could do was a Hollywood leap and dive offering a flailing arm that was more for show than anything else. The quality of the finish thankfully seemed to deflect away from the fact that I should never have even let me have a sniff of it by coming out but hey - I wasn't going to highlight that.

Am I being a bit harsh on myself? Probably. You see, in spite of my very honest self-criticism I aim to make no mistakes. It doesn't always happen, rarely in fact, but when a mistake happens I hate it and beat myself up about it for weeks.

There were of course a couple of moments though when I thought "Here we go" as my demons from games-gone-past seemed destined to haunt me again. An ambitious cross was launched into the box from my left and then just seemed to stay in the air and fly straight for the top right hand corner. The wind had caught it and it floated and teased me giving me time to pray to the goalkeeping Gods for quite literally a helping hand. Someone was listening because I managed to keep an eye on it and judge my jump perfectly to get a strong finger tip on it to pop it over. The dramatic fall into my own net helped make what was really a standard tip-over, look a really good save!

The next cause for concern came not long after. An ambitious looping shot from quite far out was falling straight down my throat and all of a sudden disappeared in the sun! My God - I wanted to die!! This was no more than a standard catch but I was on my line and any sort of fumble or cock up was going to be both costly and an addition to my ever growing catalogue of clangers. I even croaked forward a plea of 'Not Guilty' with a shout of "I can't see it - the Sun's in my eyes" before all of a sudden there it was. It dropped in to my hands and apart from a slight tilt forwards it stayed there as I sprang forward as If there was never any doubt!!

Their second goal, I could do nothing about. Our defence was sitting far too high and were cut open by a cross field pass that saw their winger clean through fro a one-on-one. One-on-ones actually have always been a strength of mine. I always try to judge my advance to narrow the angle as late as possible and not go to ground too early. Unfortunately, this was one of those occasions when none of that worked and the shot that was unleashed flashed past me in to the goal. Yes, I did get a flick of a glove on the ball but it wasn't enough. 2-0 and in truth it could have been more.

In between their goals I actually pulled off some decent stops. Yes, I had flapped at a couple of corners but had followed up with strong clearances and the save at my near post when Mr. Bald glanced a header goal wards from an impossible angle was my highlight.

I settled down into the game and we even managed to pull a goal back just before half time when our Centre Back, Simon, powered a header of his own in from a very well delivered corner.

So 2-1 down at half time and my game was over. No major mishaps, no embarrassing lobs from distance and a few decent stops thrown in for good measure.

I was happy to be a spectator for the second half and support the lads for the rest of the game - and also to see how my replacement, Steve got on. I'll be honest he seemed a little shaky but hey I knew how he felt so he had my full support - goalkeepers union and all that.

Goffs went 3-1 up with a decent shot that went past Steve in to his top left corner. Could he have done better? Could I have stopped it? Yes to both. If he moved his feet I think he could have given himself a chance if he'd then dived. As it was, he kind of stood and watched it go in.

We pulled a goal back with neat finish from the lad upfront who looked about twelve and we were unlucky not to draw level because we had really come into the game and had two really good chances to score.

As it was, Goffs ended up scoring a fourth and I felt really sorry for poor Steve in goal. He had an absolute carbon copy of a ball to deal with that I had managed to hold in the first half, punted at him. As it fell out of the sky in a line straight into his arms I could smell the fear from where I was sitting on the halfway line. This was his moment but I knew exactly what he was feeling and thinking and praying for. Where I had managed to hold the ball, Steve duly fumbled it forward straight into the path of a choice of two strikers. They almost got in each other's way, but in the end the ball was smashed home and the game ended seconds later with 4-2 as the final result. Poor Steve. He seemed a really nice lad and I felt for him - I had been there plenty of time myself. I said nothing, just said my goodbyes and thanks for the game etc and headed home, pleased but ready for me tea.

New Season - New Team

2011-09-06T09:55:00.000-07:00

So a new season - and a new team! Having taken the decision to prolong my playing career I follwed some good advice from my best pal, Damien, and was put in touch with a Vets (veterans) team by another friend, Phil "JR" Hartley. I felt quite optimistic after chatting on the phone to 'Lev', the Vet's manager who assured me that all the boys (men surely(!) this is a vets team afterall!) were good chaps and I put the phone down desperate for the season to begin.

I marketed myself as "a superb shot stopper with a tendency to get lobbed from the halfway line." and this thankfully appeared to have gone under (or over) Lev's radar/bar. You see it's not easy being a Sunday morning football goalkeeper. Everyone watches the football on the telly and gets to see top quality keepers who seem to hardly ever put a foot wrong - unless you're David De Gea. And of course they all look much smaller on the TV. I think people forget that bit. Now, I'm no dwarf but at 5ft 10 I'm not exactly Petr Cech either so there have admittedly been a couple of occassions when I've been done. From distance. Ok, alright - been done from the halfway line.

I'm not making excuses - the first one was a gift as I was on my penalty spot when Mr number 10 launched a shot straight from kick-off. The sinking feeling is akin to that moment when you know you've been caught doing something you really shouldn't and it's too late to do anything about it. The vow of never being caught like that again seemed very hollow when tragedy struck for a second time two months later - to the same opposition! This time it was our kick-off so surely it had to be ok to stand on the six yard line??!!

Um apparently not....the ball goes back to to our number nine and it shanks off his knee and goes back to one of them just inside his own half. How he struck it so sweetly I'll never know to this day - but it went very high and caught a friendly wind pocket and just sailed and sailed over my distraught hand in to the top corner. Dispair and disgrace again! I would've retired there and then given the chance. The worst part of it was that I was the bloody player/manager. Talk about losing the dressing room.

No one remembers that you go on to have a stormer of a season and pull off some truly unbelievable saves and ultimately guide the team to a respectable mid table 'first season' finish. The ribbing and banter was fun for a while but in the end I just wanted someone to say something positive! The eventual folding of ALC FC was a sad but inevitable day and I guess I thought that at the age of 36 that that was that....