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August 1st: Turtles 3 (1) - Island Bay 1 (0)What about those All Blacks then. Thrashed three times in a row, and searching desperately for a solution. Any regular reader of these reports will know what Mr Hart should do, because our match reports this season have referred ad nauseum to the way the Turtles turned round a potentially disastrous season after three big losses. All this talk of positional changes and bringing in fresh talent is bollocks. All the AB's need to do is to get their over-paid arses down to the Backbencher and have a jolly good session on the piss. A couple of pitchers of Old Dark will soon have them seeing things in a whole new light, and a couple more will put that light out completely. Mr Hart, a regular visitor to this website, probably, will soon have the boys back on track. As for the Turtles, they are on track to finishing the season well - three games to go, fourth place almost secure, and third a definite possibility. Island Bay promised to be a tough game, and with Simon L returning from three weeks poncing around in Essex wine bars, there was a good chance of biffo too. As it turned out Si had a shocking hangover which, along with the re-heated chilli he had had for breakfast, dampened his aggression somewhat, and the game was quite good natured (apart from that twat in their midfield who, allegedly, was sold by his parents to a lobotomy experimentation lab in the '70's). Naz popped done from Hamilton to make a guest appearance, and was joined in attack by Simon G. Now Simon is young, we know that, but being a student you would expect him to have some modicum of intelligence. So how do you explain him complaining to the writer about slurs made in last weeks match report regarding his fitness and general play ? Oh Dear. Where do we start. Simon received a phone call from the captain last Sunday to advise him of this weeks game. After a rather odd conversation, he announced that, although he had been on the piss until 6am, he now felt fine, and would be going for a run later on. The truth was that he had already started drinking again, having had a beer for breakfast, and later admitted not knowing who called him or what it was about. On Friday, he phoned the captain to say he had been in bed sick all week (who knows why), and didn't think he would be able to play on Saturday. Saturday morning he called again to say he felt better, and would like to play. He turned up looking like a bucket of cat sick, played half an hour of shite, then started bleating about how tired he was and wanted to go off. He was forced to stay on until half-time, then crawled off into a gutter. Pathetic. Luckily for the FTFC, everyone else was having a blinder, particularly Terry, who was dominant in the air, and involved in lots of our passing movements. Up ahead Spratty and Naz were creating a few gaps, but no real chances. Playing up hill, we got a few corners, but didn't threaten from them. Our defence was tight, GT having a good game on the right, assisted by Cooky, and Dodge cleaning up anything that got through. The oppo threatened often out wide, but wasted all their good openings with woeful crossing. After about 25 minutes we got another corner. Weasel hit it to the far post, and Tel snuck in to nod it in. Much rejoicing and congratulations (and feeble coughing from Simon G). Not content with one headed goal, Tel tried one at our end too, but Snout dealt with it efficiently. Towards half-time the oppo's fitness was starting to tell, and they had a few corners. Although for the most part our defence was content to stand and watch these, we got away with it and felt good at half time. SNO, as always, did the trick, and we started well in the second half, now playing down hill. Cooky was now up front, and was becoming an influence with his ability in the air, and deft touches. The oppo defence was starting to struggle, but our finishing was poor. At about 10, the oppo got a free kick after Si and then the skip took turns at kicking the nutcase (see earlier comment). The innocuous shot on goal dipped in front of Snouter, bounced up off his shins, on to the head of an attacker, and in. Hmmm. This made Spratty angry, and he started to play well. On numerous occasions he created clear chances for Naz, Cooky or Weasel, but they were all wasted. Weasel actually had three goes at his, but hit the keeper each time. Cooky and Naz between them nearly created the goal of the season, beating four defenders in the bottom left corner with two delightful touches, but Naz blasted his shot wide. Don, reffing due to the flu, thought he'd spice things up by awarding a pen. After a short discussion it was agreed that he must have been delusional from all the Panadol, and play continued. Spratty was now really getting angry, so scored himself, and stomped around telling everyone how crap they were and he was wonderful. The fact that his goal was created by Cooky seemed to elude him. The oppo were still threatening down the right, but Davey and GT did some great defending, Davey making his third and fourth tackles of the decade. With about 12 to go, the game was made safe. A big Snouter clearance was nodded on by Cooky, and Naz ran on to it. Not wanting to incur any more of Spratty's wanky abuse, he rounded the keeper and rolled it in. |
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