The great thing about being in Heaven is that you can get to watch sport that isn’t normally on the box.  The bad thing about it is no one up here is too passionate about it.  Well, not amongst my lot anyway.  We do have a little soccer joke up here though.  “JESUS SAVES, but Arsenal still wins 3 nil.”

Before I got here I’d been limited to the Wellington soccer association stats every Monday, and the Turtles match report that comes out on Tuesdays.  I knew that my beloved Turts would never be televised so I had to console myself with keeping in touch via the net.  Yet I was always frustrated that I’d never actually seen the Fabulous ones play.  I had been to New Zealand once before but that was in a time when Wal had hair and Bobby was but a youth and our favourite team was not widely known.  Bobby did come to kiss my ring, but that is another story …

I had started my love affair with The Beautiful Game when playing for my parish first XI in Warsaw.  To see a bicycle kick perfectly completed by a priest in a cassock really is a thing of beauty.  It was a game encouraged by the Friars and I found it to be a second religion when I got to Rome.  I sometimes got to play sweeper for the Vatican 2^nd XI when we played away to Roma.  It was always good to cast aside the robes and get back to more earthy pleasures.  At one stage we tried to recruit Tel but he disappointed us by transferring to Greek Orthodox.  Rat was always a possibility of course, but we had enough left footers.

So with my recent ascendancy I was keenly looking forward to actually seeing the Turts from ‘on high’.  It was a shame though that they had chosen to go to the dogs for my first audience.  They were away to the Stop Out Rebels at the Hutt Park greyhound racetrack.  Still, never mind.  I was sure I was in for some treats.

Especially when Gordy turned up and pulled on his lovely golden shooting slippers.  He was obviously going to be playing above the ground today, which is always better than playing in Hell.  I keenly waited on Snout’s pre match speech, wondering if it might compare with some of my better Easter blessings.  Unfortunately he simply took a stab at guessing at the positions the lads would start at.  Curious.

Zil turned up late and said that he wanted to have the first 10 on the side so that he could get properly warmed up.  What a blouse!  He will fit in well with those Floridians when he gets there.

I have to say he made up for it well though when he actually came on.  The game had been pretty even with both teams holding onto it well.  After about 15 Zil got caught on the left (of course) outside the box but battled on bravely, nearly falling twice.  He gathered himself and slipped it back inside to a surging Chris Lavis (rhymes with Davis) who drove it into the back of the net … with knee well over the ball.  Clinical.  1-0.

It was just as well that the Turtles had netted one though because Oscar had carried on from where he left off last week and missed a couple of sitters up front.  He swore the first miss was actually a corner, but the Turts knew better.  It was going to take Divine Intervention before this boy would score.  He was staking a strong claim for BHOA (but was overtaken later by much greater ineptitude in front of goal).

And then after another skirmish out to the left Zil found himself with a bit of space and delivered the perfect cross over to Gordy who headed in at the far post.  Very nice indeed.  The stuff I had dreamed about.  2-0.

Wal was then pushed up front and found himself on the end of a hurried clearance from the keeper due to some good pressure that Gordy had put him under.  He dribbled towards goal and knocked it in at the near post (never thought he would be a left footer).  3-0.

I think this quality play was brought about by the lads realising they were in the presence of greatness.  No, not me.  Mark Sorenson, former captain of the Black Sox was playing for the oppo.  Check him out:  http://www.softball.org.nz/html/blacksox.htm

 He is probably the best softballer that NZ has ever produced and was looking quite handy as a defender.  He was even wearing number 2 like he did throughout his softball career.  Snout reckoned he made a better wicketkeeper than Sorenson ever made a catcher, but that was just childish.

Mid way through the half Stop Out won a corner, and Marty showed a great deal of courage by calling in Tel to sub him right when it was being taken.  Total disarray ensued.  But Tel carried on to play really well at the back … totally dominating in the air.  Unfortunately he was later called upon to go for a bit of a run and he pinged a hammy.  Looked a tad serious to me too.  When will this boy learn that his workout regime is never going to give him the kind of conditioning he needs for Turtles football?

Wal’s old schoolmate Stewart Weitzel was playing for Stop Out and refereed the first half.  And he had a big impact.  I had laid a blessing on Dodger that today he would score (for the first time in 15 years) … he smacked one in off a corner but Stewart had him for hand ball.  Evidently the hand of God was acceptable in the World Cup Finals, but not in Masters Div 1.

But despite that shameful decision the Turts were 3 up and so started the second half full of confidence.  But things started to fall apart up front.  Glorious chances were created as the mid field started to dominate but the strikers were pure shite.  Wal was the main culprit missing 3 sitters (although one was off the head, never his strong suit), but even Gordy was botching them.  Very unlike the scoring dynamo.  There must have been about 10 shockers.  Oscar was delerious …. he wouldn’t be BHOA today!

This was giving Stop Out a lot of confidence.  There was just no way the Turts were going to score another goal.  So they kept their tails up and chased after everything.  Their key midfielder grabbed the initiative.  He chipped from just over half way and left the Turts back 8 leaden footed.  It landed perfectly at the feet of their nippy No. 10 and he gave Snout no chance.  3-1.  Game on.

Rohan decided he needed to stamp his class on the match.  He started playing beautifully in the midfield.  And then in an outrageous act he took a corner with his left foot.  Such audacity has not been seen in 25 years of Turtle history, except for Zil (of course).  It was a beauty too, but was totally wasted by Glenn at the far post (of course).

Dodger then walked off in a huff with Oscar.  Apparently Oscar hadn’t been taking his positional responsibilities too seriously and had sauntered off up front in search of that elusive goal.  It never came though, and Stop Out was growing more and more confident.

I decided to do my bit and laid on a blessing.  Gordy was the chosen one.  Glenn worked it down the left and centred to the big fella …. He made no mistake this time.  4-1.  Normal transmission resumed for the Tartan Tadger.  And that was the final score.  Always good to see a win on your first attendance (though I never made it onto the ‘spectators’ statistic).

At the Stop Out club rooms afterwards Rohan was made MoM (his first) and Wal was TIT (not his first).  Rohan showed good grace by having his girlfriend Jennifer (remember those, Lads?) pay his $5 fine.  Nice touch.  I was talking to the new patron, Vanda, later on her 0900 number to let her know how the Lads had gone and mentioned this.  She was shocked.  She had certainly never considered paying CJ’s.  She’d been fined enough!

My influence was apparent when the weather was officially recorded as ‘heavenly’.  The pitch was recorded as ‘bumpy’ … which goes some way to explaining Wal’s inexplicable misses in front of open goal mouths.

So my first viewing was more than satisfactory, and I look forward to plenty of Saturday entertainment to come.  WE ARE ACE, WE ARE COOL, WE’RE THE TURTLES AND WE RULE, NAH NAH NAH NAH, NAH NAH NAH, NAH NAH.

Oh, and the other great thing about being in Heaven is that you get to look down on what bored housewives do with themselves while their husbands are at work.  But that is another story ….