Turtle Name	Goals For	Own Goals	Assists	MoMs	TiTs
Wilkinson, G	1	0	1	0	0
Watson, A	0	0	0	0	0
Tims, G	0	0	0	0	0
Law, S	0	0	0	0	0
Kyne, P	1	0	1	0	0
Kinsella, R	0	0	0	0	0
Holden, M	0	0	0	0	0
Hills, T	0	0	0	0	0
Dixon, L	0	0	3	0	0
Davidson, G	6	0	1	0	0
Coppersmith, M	0	0	0	0	0
Calcott, G	0	0	1	0	0
Bevan, Neil	2	0	0	0	0

Snout’s Milestone

It’s 6.45am on Saturday 10 June and the sun rises gloriously in the east. A cock crows on the outskirts of Churton Park and Snout’s dream about a clean sheet on his big day comes to an abrupt end. He tosses off the bed covers. The shower beckons, but first he strides over to his well-appointed home gym. A quick 5k on the treadmill is followed by 200 one-armed push ups, 100 per side. With his every day routine out of the way Snout takes a shower. He is careful to clean in all those hard-to-get places. It’s his big day and he’s determined to look his best.

It’s now 7.15am and time for breakfast. Snout could eat like a horse on days like this but as usual he decided to load up on protein. He arranged 11 pork sausages on the plate and put four on hold in the fridge. This was typical Snout – taking every opportunity to visualise the game ahead. Today was to be number 350, a huge milestone for someone with still so much to offer. Here he was arranging his sausages in typical 4-4-2 formation. He mulled over who should start and who would need to cool their heels on the sideline.

By 7.30am all the sausages were gone. However, the game strategy was formulated and there was still plenty of bacon. Snout fancied some for brunch, but as it turned out he wouldn’t get any.

Quite unexpectedly there was a knock at the gate. Snout sauntered to the drawbridge, crossed the moat and peered out through his specially designed peeper hole. It was a roving reporter, keen to talk to the man himself about his life and achievements.

“People say you’re a legend for the way you have combined your love of eating with the development of game day strategy.”

“I don’t see it myself. I’m just doing what comes naturally.”

“But you’re a genius.”

“Nobody in football should be called a genius. A genius is a guy like Norman Einstein."

“Well how is it that you manage to get so much out of the Turtles on the big occasions?”

“I listen to Robbie Deans. He tells his guys to line up alphabetically by height and pair up in groups of three. It works for him and it works for me.”

“Any other secrets?”

“Yeah, these days we rely heavily on Gordie. He's the sort of guy who gets up at ten o'clock in the morning regardless of what time it is.”

“So what about a prediction for today”

"Well I’ve done a bit of mental arithmetic and, based on form, I’d put my money on a clean sheet and a three goal win.”

With that Snout retired to his sitting room. It was 8.30 and almost time for brunch but first he needed to clear his system. Although his regular loo paper had run out, he was lucky in having multiple copies of Dodge’s World Cup entry form stacked nearby. He just couldn’t work this thing out. What did all the colours mean? Why were there only three possible results? How were you supposed to know who to pick? Hours had been wasted in the sitting room struggling with these questions. In the end Snout had decided it was all just crap. The deadline had passed anyway. He wiped and flushed.

At 12.30 on his way back to the kitchen Snout answered his cell phone. It was Don. “Hi Snout can’t play today got to learn how to use my camera – you know the one with the extendable thingee.” The skipper was somewhat perturbed by this late withdrawal and ridiculous excuse.

“What do you mean Don? Don’t you know what day this is?”

"Yeah we’re playing Brooklyn. We beat them last time and, if history repeats itself, I should think we can expect the same thing again, with or without me."

Snout gave up on Don and ended the call in a fury. Two minutes later Steve L. called and advised that he would be a no-show. He reminded Snout of his obligation to provide the post-match liquid refreshment and then crawled back to bed.

Snout was in a quandary - all of a sudden a squad of 15 had become13, there were beers to be bought and the game strategy was starting to unravel. Where was the respect – 349 games (plus 1 as ref) and this was what he got for it. He began cursing when the phone rang again.

“Hi PK here. Have you still got 15 men, cos I’d like to give it a miss.”

Snout was furious. “We’ve only got 13 you prat. What is it with you - ignorance or apathy?”

“I don't know and I don't care, but you can count on me to be there. Where are we playing again?”

Fast forward to Happy Valley No 1 at 2.15pm. Most of the Fabulous Turtles had gathered but two were missing. Gordie, despite being entrusted with the team gear, was predictably late and Neil’s whereabouts remained a mystery until about half time.

The Brooklyn opposition were having their own issues and it was hard to take them seriously. They were well known to the Turtles – the likes of Spongebob in the middle, Squidward at the back, Mr Krabs up front and Patrick in goal were all familiar faces. They too were down on numbers, but thought they could cover it by playing the Whale on the right flank and Plankton on the left.

As you might expect the game kicked off a little late. Snout won the toss, as he is inclined to do from time to time, and decided that the Turtles would play with the mudflow in the first half. He relished the warm sum on his back and settled into goal expecting no action for the next 45 minutes.

He seemed to have got it right when, after less than five minutes the opposing keeper Patrick skewed a clearance into midfield. PK, who had turned up despite his best efforts to do otherwise, sized up the opportunity quickly and slotted a curling shot from outside the box into the top left hand corner. 1-0, with lots more excitement to come.

Unfortunately for Snout, Brooklyn struck back from a corner almost immediately as the Turtle defence floundered in the mud. It was 1-1 and the clean sheet dream had been truly shattered. However, much to the skipper’s pleasure the next 30 minutes, which had threatened to become the “Spongebob Squarepants Show”, in fact became the “Lance ’n’ Gordie Show.”

Patrick in goal for Brooklyn was all at sea as Lance penetrated and Gordie finished. Lance provided multiple hard fought assists and Gordie was able to bulge the net from close range almost every time. So three well-deserved goals ensued and the scoreline at halftime was 4-1. Snout was in raptures – his big day was turning out just fine.

Nevertheless, there was much discussion at the break about opportunities missed during the half. Wal couldn’t buy an assist mainly because PK couldn’t use his head properly. Dodge also had trouble converting from close range and on one occasion was fortunate to have Gordie positioned to his rear. He scored for the second time.

Notwithstanding the Brooklyn goal, the back four had put on a solid display to contain Spongebob and Mr Krabs. While Snout was called on to make a couple of saves, he had had to make no strategic decisions since the toss.

Big Si spoke with authority at the half “We need to score the first goal in the second half fellas - then their heads will drop.”

The lads agreed and Gordie was in a particularly buoyant mood. "I want to score maybe 5 or 6 goals today, whichever comes first.”

Amid all the enthusiasm Neil made a quiet entrance. His admission that he had gone to Benburn Park in error earned him a number of votes for TiT of the day. However, he was safe – Don had secured that honour with his early withdrawal and poor sense of the occasion.

Anyway the second half was a free flowing affair. Gordie struck early to increase his personal tally to four. Si nodded in approval. Despite the close attentions of Squidward, the long-limbed defender, Gordie was on fire. His fifth was a beauty from the edge of the box and then Neil, fresh off the bench, slotted one at the far post after good build up work down the right. Brooklyn pegged a couple back but before the game was out Neil had scored another cracker, and Gordie and Glenn completed the job.

The second half was notable for yet another miraculous recovery by Tel. His ability to re-enter the fray after going down with a hammy is the stuff of true legend. Also miraculous was the amount of work Grunter got thru during the half. He entered the field of play twice with his bucket – once for Marty, who limped off bravely towards the end, and a second time after a head clash involving Glenn. This incident frayed a few nerves but none of Glenn’s who left the field in a typical daze. The ref insisted that he had things under control. However, when asked about his grasp of the game he replied ”Well, either side could win it, or it could be a draw."

In fact the final result was a 10-3 drubbing of the hapless Brooklyn in the mud that passes for Happy Valley No 1. After the game Snout duly shouted the lads a pile of chips, copious garlic bread and a pint or two at the Windmill. He was deeply satisfied despite missing out on a clean sheet and letting in three unlikely goals. On leaving the pub he was spotted by the roving reporter.

“So how did it go?”

“Fine. We won 10-3. No clean sheet, I’m afraid. So no cigar.”

“Who was man of the match?”

“Gordie. The double hat trick nailed it despite the poor effort on gear duty and the normal tardiness.”

“So what will you do to celebrate tonight?”

“I’m off to buy a new sausage maker and maybe even a bacon slicer. There’s a veritable feast of World Cup soccer ahead and I want to prepare in earnest for every game. . . ”