May 8th: Turtles 6 (4) - Lower Hutt 2 (0)
Mr Blobby puts on a jolly entertaining show for
the spectators... but...
At last a late game. Having got used to early games, this disrupted the Saturday routine of many Turtles. For those with kids this means spending an extra couple of hours quality time with the family before escaping. For those without kids, it meant having more time to get over the hangover. One of the older members of this group put it thus - "when it's an early game, I try to curtail my Friday drinking two hours earlier". Such a comment could be compared to Oliver Reed having said he was just popping in to that bar in Malta "for a quick half". If, in fact, he had said that.
This reporter, suffering from neither kids nor a hangover, picked up Dodge on the way to the game instead. This stalwart of the Turtle defence is struggling these days, the demands of top level masters croquet taking their toll on the famous expanding torso, and he was coming along only to ref. Rumours of retirement are being spread (in these reports), bringing fears that one of the great Turtle careers could be in it's twilight. Still, stiff shit, on with the show.
Our oppo on this lovely day were equal bottom of the grade, for some reason playing in the grade above the Lower Hutt team that won our grade for the last two years at a canter. Understand? But the early stages of this match were tight. The bobbly surface of this small ground made control difficult, and the oppo's youthful enthusiasm saw them have the better attacks. In goal though we had Blobby, a late replacement for Snouter, dropped for pretending to go to Paris on business. His immense presence gave confidence to the Turtle defence, and in front of him Si L and Tel dealt adequately with anything, albeit with the occasional last minute hoofed clearance.
Out wide we had problems though. The skipper had to deal with a nippy little African, who was their principal attacking weapon. After being embarrased a couple of times, the skip settled for a rugby tackle to remind this player that you just do not take the piss out of the Turtle captain. On the other flank, Cooky opted for the offensive defence, and charged forward at every opportunity. His work with Wal opened up the oppo defence several times, but the final pass or cross eluded Nick and Gordie up front. After a frustrating 20 or so minutes, Tony, playing a sort of left wing libero role, received a pass, turned his man and approached goal. The oppo player he embarrassed took offence, and brought him down violently. The skip curled in the free kick, Gordie won it in the air, and Don got enough of a touch to beat the keeper. Tony was still limping from that tackle, looking his age, when a few minutes later Gordie ran at the defence and then squared it to him. Suddenly Tony forgot his injury, set it up with his left and buried it with his right.
Despite the lead, we never gained control, and there was still plenty of concern at Blobby's end. The oppo gained a couple of corners and put a lot of men in the box, but Tel or Si cleared these effectively. The only moment of real concern came when the nippy winger got round the back, but his shot was feeble. Soon enough our lead grew. Wal got down the right and put it across the face of the goal, Tony bundling it in on the far. Shortly after that a Gordie knockdown bounced up nicely for Wal, and he followed Tony's instructions by burying it spectacularly.
At half-time, wholesale changes. Tel went in goal, Wal dropped back, GT, Weasel and Si G came on and Frankie went to Hollywood. Not surprisingly, the defending was now a bit chaotic, and after several rather hairy moments they opened their account. After a corner, the ball was half cleared, then knocked back in. It bounced harmlessly through the middle of a group of Turtles, who watched quietly as it went past them. An oppo attacker gratefully accepted this gift by lifting it over the advancing Tel. Snouter on the sideline was livid. The regular custodian of the Turtle onion bag prides himself on his "goals against" column.
Play was by now becoming a bit scruffy, and the oppo tried a bit of thuggery. Their target was Weasel, who was displaying some of his best dribbling. He made a mess of the little winger, who gave him a kicking for it. Unfortunately for the winger, this was right in front of the Turtle supporters and subs. Nick was requested to extract revenge. A short while later he did so, but on someone else - a tall blond midfielder. Easy mistake to make. In the meantime, Weasel provided the corner for the next goal. Don got a touch (so he says), it hit Si G and went in on the far post.
By this stage, there was, apparently, disharmony in the Turtle attack. Gordie was doing the job of collecting in midfield and providing for Nick and Si ahead of him, but this wasn't working very well. The front three were getting isolated from the rest of the team, and Si thought Gordie should be going further back to collect the ball. According to an un-named source, a few toys were thrown. Gordie's frustration may have stemmed from an inability to live up to his pre-match comments that "I'm going to be good today", and "I'll get three goals". Whilst prams were being emptied up front, Tel's goalkeeping was providing entertainment for the crowd. A feeble low cross from the right went straight through his hands and dribbled across goal. Luckily Cooky got to it first and cleared. Shortly after this an aimless ball over the top seemed to Tel like a good time to get off his line. An oppo forward beat him to it, and Snouter shook his head sadly as the ball went past Tel and trickled into the unguarded net. "Never ever come off your line" mumbled the wise one.
Most of the play was now in our half, so when the ball did get cleared, Gordie had space. Finally he got a ball through for Si to run on to. Si squared this to Nicko, who took his time and bulged the roof of the net. A little later, Nicko was clear again, but completely fluffed this one. Mercilessly, Dodge blew for full time after that.
Just to remind us that we were in the Hutt, the showers were cold, and then a classic scene in the bar we went to. A wedding party came in. Apart from the bride, who had on a nice floral number, most of the rest of the party wore garish waistcoats and, wait for it, jeans. Oh dear. They trooped in, had some photos in the garden bar, and then some more around the pool table. Simon Law, the next Turtle to get married, was last seen talking to the bar manager and taking notes.
...even Cashill can't bear to watch us sober.