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May 29th: Turtles 3 (0) - North Wellington Cops 1 (1)No football match report written anywhere in the world this week would be complete without a mention of ‘the greatest moment ever’ for Scum fans: Man U scoring two goals in injury time to beat Bayern Munich 2-1 and so win the European cup and the incredible treble. Alex Ferguson sending on two subs to score the winning goals (and lay on the winning header) would have eerie similarities with events that unfolded later in the week at Karori Park, but more on that later. Rather pathetically Wal claimed an assist on the Barcelona result by saying that he was going to head off to a meeting from where he was watching it at the Arizona Bar if the Scum got the equalizer, as he didn’t have time to watch the extra time. But something spooky told him to hang on for the last minute; this sending a telepathic message to Barcelona that the fat lady hadn’t sung and could they please do something brilliant so we could go off to work happy that the Krauts hadn’t spoiled the party. A few hours after the game an e-mail from Boy went around the Turtles entitled ‘Spratty – RIP’ because the little fat northern bastard was in Manchester (or maybe even Barcelona) and by that stage must surely have drunk himself to death. And we got to thinking about the other ‘greatest moment ever, ever’ (for Colin Firth – Fever Pitch – fans) when Arsenal had to beat Liverpool by two goals at Anfield to win the 1989 league; and they did – with Michael Thomas getting the second right on full-time. And given the Turtles result later in the week this too could have eerie similarities to events in Wellington Div 5, but more on that later … This all just goes to show that Skip was right when he handed over the match report duties before heading away on holiday and said ‘you can right half the bloody thing before the game’. And so to the game – a top of the table clash against the Cops; who thumped us twice last season. They’re skillful, hard and fast. We were keenly aware of four things:
There were a couple of examples of the courage that would be needed prior to the game. Wal’s son James pulled out a wiggly front tooth so that he could take the field for Wests Under 8 rugby, and Snouter rushed back (first class though) from Paris so that he could be in goal and arrived directly from the airport. The miniatures went down a treat later, too. There was an eerie (there’s that word again) silence in the changing rooms - we knew what we had to do. So it was a real shame that we didn’t start off by doing it. We looked nervous on the ball and let the Cops run at us, spread it wide and cross it in the air (they knew who they were up against). We were showing them too much respect and it wasn’t surprising that after six minutes (there’s that similarity again) they worked it fast down the left, centred and put a good shot on goal. A jet-lagged Snouter made a great deflection but it fell nicely for a following forward and we were one down. But we didn’t crumble. We started knocking it around a bit and competing better. We didn’t really create any great chances, but nor did they. The closest we came was Simon G being put through but Don bowed to Cop pressure and ruled him off-side (in his defence, he was probably concerned about the overdue library books that they had over him). Cooky put in some stirling work from right back though which helped with his eventual MoM award (not bad for a guy seriously pushing 40). So a scrappy first half but we had our 99th Sweet Navel Orange knowing that we were in touch. And we also had a few more players; three sets of fresh legs ran on for the second half – Gordy, Don and Wal. These would prove to be Ferguson-like substitutions for Skipper Don. The half started with similar play but after a few minutes Tony worked the ball down the right and sent a long aerial cross to Gordy just outside the box. He really got on the end of it and narrowly missed with the ball shooting just over the crossbar. The Cops knew that there was a different kind of Turtle on the park. A few were heard to mutter that there ought to be a law about Turtles putting headers on goal. A few minutes on and we worked the ball up the ‘muddle’ to Gordy outside the box – his back to goal. He turned his man and put a scuffed shot on goal – a nothing shot really. And then a strange thing happened. The Cops’ goalie was Mike McCarthy – an ex Turtle mid-fielder (notable stat - managed to score one own goal for every two at the other end ~ Webmeister) and perhaps with a soft spot for his old team mates he let the ball take a bobble over him and billow out the back of the net – not. 1-1. The thin blue line just got thinner. Both teams then started to push the ball around well but the Cops didn’t get to trouble Snouter much. This was just as well as the jetlag was now really kicking in and thoughts of a hot bath and cool sheets (and that first class hostess) were now starting to dominate him. Then we got a free-kick from a wee way out which Nico floated in to the far post. Gordy climbed above his man and sent the ball back across the face. Frighteningly Wal was going to be on the end of it – unmarked. Time stood still as he somehow headed it into the top corner (the usually athletic Mike McCarthy curiously stranded in goal). 2-1. And then a brilliant thing happened. The Cops went down the right and centred. Their key striker got a foot to it six yards out but somehow Snout had shaken off the effects of the Lobster Mornay and Petit Fois and dived full length to deflect it over the top – a key save (eerie shades of Schmeichel). Then some more Gordy brilliance. He got the ball down the right, got to the by line and checked back. Wal had put in a run and was clear and calling in the middle. But Gordy knew when to hog it and suspected that Mike McCarthy was expecting the cross – he was off his line. This got Gordy’s sporrin rising and he slotted it on the near post. 3-1. The inevitable then happened. The Turtles adopted their infamous siege mentality. All the Back 8 could focus on was kicking the living shit out of the ball. Except for Cooky – he was still focused on kicking the living shit out of the oppo. His horrendously ill-timed (‘though entirely innocent, your Honour’) tackle just outside the box was the worst we’ve seen for a while and earned him Tit – a rare double (age brings such wonderful variety, doesn’t it Nico??? Editor’s note: an oblique reference to Nico’s current love interest). And then a curious thing happened. Their winger bent it in from the left and Snouter, with his mind back on the lovely slippers BA had gifted him, was beaten. Their striker wasn’t so sure though and with a diving header put the ball over the top and sealed Tit for the oppo. And so we hung on, and hung on, for about 15 minutes and ended Div 5 round one with a great home win and the Turts at the top of the table. Thoughts in the Turtle Lounge later drifted off though to what might be needed on the last Saturday of our season, away to the Cops, to experience the third greatest moment ever … |
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