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May 1st: Turtles 0 (0) - Petone Angkors 1 (0)There are some autumn days in Welly that you just can't beat. No wind, the harbour like glass, real warmth in the sun, and loads of tasty birds parading up and down Lambton Quay in tight clothing. In the week preceding this game, there were five of these days, so you just knew it was all going to turn to shit for the weekend. The writer of this report was given an early portent of the exact consistency that shit was to be an hour before the game. With 'er-in-doors in bed with a cold and Brian Edwards, this reporter battled manfully with the washing machine, and, after seeking instructions, hung the washing out. As the last peg went in, so the first drop of rain started. Later, driving up Karori Road with the wipers on full speed, Will Smith was extolling the virtues of Miami on the radio. That man should get a life and try visiting Karori at it's worst. The groundsman at Karori probably does have a life, but it certainly doesn't include mowing the soccer pitches. K2 was lush, and with a nice dump of rain and a bunch of quick little Asians in the oppo, conditions couldn't have been better for a crap day. Spratty started the game, stating that he may have been injured, but he wasn't sure. He stood around for the first ten minutes of the game, finally tried to run, and limped off back into his cosy little senile world. This allowed Tony to return to action, back after a short loan period to the Lower Hutt first team. LH obviously saw something we haven't, as they released him immediately. Unfortunately for Tony the same can't be said of his golf clubs, but that is another story. Before, during and after this interchange the FTFC were dominating the game, with the benefit of the wind and an extra player whilst the oppo sorted themselves out. The passing was crisp given the conditions, and several chances fell to the makeshift forward line of Si and the skipper. Each had a one-on-one with the keeper after nice through balls, but both were hit straight at him. At other times potentially good passes forward skidded away on the greasy surface. Si L in midfield had a couple of shooting chances outside the box, but threatened only the corner flags. Several corners were put in the right place, and any lucky deflection would have done. It was not to be. By about half-way through the first half our initial thrust was spent, and the oppo came in to it more. Their quick feet got them past many of our sluggish tackles, and a few attacks began to trouble our defence. Thankfully they decided to shoot from 40 yards most of the time, but as the game went on they edged closer. Snouter got a few difficult, low skiddy shots, but handled all of these safely. The last action of the half was at the other end, when a delightful through ball from Si G released the skipper, but a lack of pace, skill and ability contrived against this being converted. As the bedraggled Turtles gathered at half-time, the talk was still positive, particularly from Si L, who was still all fire and brimstone. As it turned out this was a tragic waste of energy, as he was to fade badly in the later stages. This is the manchild who for many years has been the athletic youth of the side. Now, as he drives his poncy company car hastily in the direction of marriage, home ownership and Friday nights in front of the telly, his chest has slipped, and, in an unusual development, some of it has found it's way on to his lower back. The second half didn't start out too bad. Despite playing into the driving rain, we pushed forward with some good moves. The skipper dropped back a bit, and Tony seagulled around up front. Several times he got the ball, took his man on and shot, but these were all taken cleanly by their keeper. As the half developed, the conditions started to take their toll on the elderly Turtle legs, and the oppo's midfield began to stream through. Most of our defensive problems stemmed from poor passing, which often gave away possession, and our fullbacks, GT and Blobby, being easy beaten and stranded too far up. This meant that Weasel, Phil and Si L spent most of their time chasing back, and so it all got a bit disjointed. In goal Snouter was getting more and more busy. The oppo were regularly strolling through on goal, and several shots skidded just wide of the far post. With about 20 to go Terry limped off for a hot shower with Rosie, and Don, who also claimed to be badly injured, came on and ran around like he was on drugs. This was just what we needed, as the injection of energy allowed us to get forward a bit more. Several through balls just failed to connect with our frontline, and then Phildo stroked a nice ball up the right for the skip. His cross stranded the keeper, but Si G Turtled the header. On the far post, Tony controlled it but slipped over as he shot, and the keeper recovered to collect. This debacle prompted a stream of abuse from the back. Now, 100 years ago, people with serious delusions were locked up in a box for life - nowadays they walk around with the normal members of society. There are dangerous delusions, like when someone thinks the people of an entire race are evil and must be killed, or when American kids think they live in a playstation game, but there are also more subtle ones. For example, the delusion whereby you believe that whenever anyone makes a mistake on a soccer field it is a deliberate attempt to personally insult you. Regardless of circumstances, if anyone misses a pass, shot, header or tackle, it is exactly the same as if that person came up to your face and questioned your mother's morals. This little parallel universe has one inhabitant - Dodge. So, ten minutes later, when GT was beaten again, the ball was pulled back, and the last kick of the game was a shot that Snouter got a foot to but still went in, it was all just a personal insult. As Cooky blew for fulltime (one minute too late), the oppo rolled around in the mud kissing and cuddling, which we believe is quite acceptable in their country. So the day was a really runny, uncomfortable type of shit, that leaves you feeling worse than before and stinks for hours. |
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