April
21st: Turtles 2 (2) - Lower Hutt "A"s 0 (0)
by Sniffy Hambleton
It’s remarkable that the Turtle performances this season have been as adequate as they have. But the three victories to date could well have been even better, resulting in an even more healthy goal difference. And I’m not talking about improved fitness here. Or even the introduction of skills training twice a week under the tutelage of a big name ex-player, like Nobby Stiles. What the Turts of 2001 are really lacking is decent numerical support on the sidelines. A return to some of the gates that we used to get a few years back (into the mid-twenties on a fine day) would see us motivated to play a much more attractive brand of footy (as it is we are happy to “do just enough”).
It’s about time some of you lot got off your couches on a Saturday afternoon and went out to support us. And I’m not talking about the Mums and Dads, wives, girlfriends and boyfriends, lap dancers and whores, children and pets. No, this is aimed at you, Joe / Josephine Average, the quiet office worker who sneaks a look at these reports each week during the winter to count the fucking swear words. Our Webmeister has extensive details on the hits that our site gets, and it is clear from his analysis that there are a lot of free-loaders out there. Do you really think there is such a thing as a free read? Get with the times - we have full details on who hits our site and when, their home and work addresses, and whether they have a girlfriend who is at all decent to look at. From next week, there will be trouble for any readers of these reports who don’t front up the next Saturday dressed in Turtles colours, bring banners extolling the virtues of their favourite player, and yell themselves hoarse with witty and original chants and songs. The true nature of this “trouble” is still being discussed by Turtles management, but it is fair to say that at the very least it will involve a number of bare-chested middle-aged slobs turning up at the target’s place of work and performing some extremely puerile street theatre.
Now, we are quite aware that some readers live outside our catchment area, like Ottowa for example. But don’t let distance put you off - we have secured a deal with Air New Zealand whereby if you show the check-in person a copy of this report, you can, for only NZ $5K, fly economy class direct to lovely Welly from anywhere in the world. You will not only benefit from cramped conditions, high-cholesterol food and plastic cups that leak tea into your lap, but we will ensure that some hyperactive two year olds will have the seats directly in front of and behind you. At the airport you will be met by an illiterate taxi driver who will give you a guided tour of Welly for $100, before dropping you at Ben Burn Park with all your luggage 5 hours before kick-off. After the game, depending on your gender, you can either join the Turtles in the showers, or piss off.
Needless to say the turnout at Fraser Park on Saturday was pathetic. There were more injured players yelling insults from the sideline than devoted fans. Mind you, it’s not the most pleasant spot for viewing, and would definitely benefit from a doing over by the Groundforce team, with perhaps a few shrubs and a little gazebo with a swinging seat. We knew the oppo had lost pretty badly in their first two games, and as we changed beforehand there was a delusion feeling of confidence in the air. Wal also pointed out that Tel was exuding a similar air about his newly chiselled physique. When questioned, the grubby little MS executive explained that although Tel did indeed look fabulous in preparation for his bodybuilding debut next week, his nob had apparently shrunk to minuscule proportions. A brief discussion then took place on the side effects of too many power drinks and not enough beer, as well as the worrying trend that has so far seen nearly every Turtle body-builder catch the other bus (for a while). There was no discussion at all about why Wal was even looking at Tel’s nob.
Despite morning drizzle, the pitch still resembled Eden Gardens when India are playing four spinners. With no effort at all you could deliver a pass that turned and bounced, beating everyone and going for four byes. Under such conditions our game plan was to hack around for a while, get a couple of goals early doors, then hack around looking haggard for the rest of the game. The oppo were young, and this fitted nicely into our cunning plan. With the slight advantage of an angular cross breeze, they gave Dodge and Tel a few scares, but there was always either a shaved, tightly toned, fake-tanned leg, or hairy bloated one, to make the last gasp tackle. Snouter had little to do. Or maybe lots. Who knows?
Or cares.
At other end we were getting closer, mainly through Livi’s control of the ball in the middle. Numerous through balls were played up to Matt and Paily, but the surface saw most of these skid away too far to control. Finally Livi did it himself. From a throw in, Weasel squared to the kick-boxing chef on the edge of the box, and after a set-up touch it was smashed over the keeper into the roof of the net. An undignified dance of Eastern origin followed. Ten minutes later Dodger’s chest surged up the middle, closely followed by the rest of him. Finding himself in unfamiliar territory, as in over half way, he panicked and attempted to lob their defence. This confused the oppo, who made a hash of clearing it, and Dodger got another touch. He found Matt on the left, who put a ball into the box for Paily to run onto. His finish was clinical once again, knocking it over the advancing keeper.
Several dangerous corners from Livi and Weas followed, creating some near chances, including Tel flexing a pec to go just wide, and Steve hitting the bar with a delicate close range effort. But otherwise, if anything else of note happened in the first half, please send an email to the Turtle Lounge and an addendum will be added next week.
At halftime Brendon came on for Tel (dizzy spells, the poor darling), and brought the average age of the back 8 down to marginally under 40. (Later Spratty came on for Murray and pushed it back over again). Brendon’s first action was to nearly deflect a dangerous through ball past the advancing Snouter, who got a hand on it to push it wide. It would have been a great own goal career wise as well, as Snouter is his boss, and would have ensured the young man never made partner had it gone in. After that Brendon sorted himself out, became quite dominant in the air, and then even got forward a bit. The last half hour of the game was pretty ugly to be honest. We had a few chances, but the dusty conditions made these unlikely. The oppo kept running, and our structure disappeared when Spratty came on for Murray, but they didn’t have the passing to capitalise on the wide open spaces we left them, and Snouter had a quiet half. Probably. The only events of note were:
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Steve’s defence splitting pass across the middle, setting up the oppo’s best chance of the game.
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Livi throwing his toys at Paily (in English), and then taking his frustrations out on an oppo player with some of his best kicks.
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Cassie drooling into the water bucket.
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Spratty’s season debut, against the advice of various doctors and wives, which included a tackle, of sorts.
Of course we could have played better and got a few more goals, if a decent crowd had turned up. Maybe next
week.
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