Prelude: Grunter rings this reporter 40 minutes before kick-off. "I'm not going out in that weather, and I want to watch the Wellington game. Come up and get the drink and bucket".

"Fuck-off, the ground is 2 minutes drives from your place".

"OK, I'll drop them down".

He doesn't.

A video clip did the rounds on email recently, of some Premiership player running down the line, who tripped and fell over in a heap. A slo-mo replay revealed that for no apparent reason he had clipped the ground, and his lower leg snapped. If memory serves, it was actually an Arsenal player, so it was quite funny really, but there was also a rather high grimace factor. Like when that gymnast, Rick Disneck, or something like that, ploughed into the pommel horse, demolishing the contents of his lower abdomen in the process. On Saturday, in the salubrious surroundings of the North Welly clubrooms, those Turtles who had managed to thaw out and come to the after-match drinks were witness to an event of sporting horror the equal of the above events, and that perhaps, in time, will become even more famous.

The lads had just endured conditions on Alex Moore Park that would have Shackleton thinking twice about popping outside for a fag. The game started with the howling northerly having the accompaniment of driving rain. This was just an introduction to the serious weather to come. The rain got heavier, and then was replaced by horizontal sleet. The game was called off about 20 minutes early in case people started dying of exposure. These were the perfect conditions for the Turtle jerseys to wreck havoc on unprotected nipples. For most, this would involve a bit of stinging discomfort - for PK, it was much worse.The latest in casual fashion (polo shirts, Turtles 2002 limited edition) was being distributed, and PK decided to try his on. On removing his sweatshirt, the t-shirt he was wearing underneath was exposed. So too, was the blood. A large stain of it, right on the left nip, and a few little drops below it. The.....horror. The.....horror. Everyone winced initially, and from then on the reactions varied: laughter, tears, fainting, vomiting. PK took it all staunchly, but you just knew he was hurting. It's the sort of image that will stick for life. For those present, this trauma made the match itself pale into insignificance. Which is not a bad thing, because it was pretty insignificant.

All that should be said is that it got us one game closer to the end of this long, muddy, wet, cold season. Unfortunately, if this report stopped here, there would be the usual outcry - another match report that told us nothing of the match. Well, one of these days that may just happen. Really.So here is how it went. Wal losing the toss meant we had the wind, rain and sleet in our faces for the first half. Calling it a "half" is being liberal. One of the oppo players reffed, and was yet another in a short line of twats we have had the misfortune of coming up against recently. We spent exactly 4 minutes in the opposing half, whilst they spent close to 50 in ours. This elongated spell was due to the fact he added on time whenever the ball was blown way out the back of our goal, apparently because we didn't sprint after it and got play going extra quick. This got tiresome after about 35 goal kicks by Dodge, and as conditions worsened, and discussion took place on shortening the match, this guy took his timekeeping even more seriously. Perhaps he wants to be a Time and Motion inspector when he gets out of nappies.

Other notable events:

Oppo goal 1. Their Matt Cantwell gets the ball inside the box, under close attention from Tel.

Oppo goal 2. Their Matt Cantwell gets the ball outside the box, with time to pick out the far top corner.

Tel goes off. The former rock of defence is in the slimming down phase of his body building program, and as currently a frail little weed. He seized up to the extent that he couldn't feel his arms, and crept away to the showers after 10 minutes.The Pieman goes off. A shot gets Steve in the face. Fortunately it wasn't flush on the nose, as it would have been a shame to puncture one of those expensive balls. Dazed and confused, Steve crept away to the showers after 15 minutes.

Oppo goal 3. Our 12th goal kick was a nice short one to Si who was standing in acres of room just on the edge of our box. In an amazing piece of control under pressure, he didn't even touch the ball as it rolled gently past him to an approaching attacker, who did well not to laugh as he tapped it into the empty net.

Oppo goal 4. Their Matt Cantwell gets the ball way outside the box, and curls in a sort of cross. Stevie H, under pressure from an attacker, declines the opportunity of getting a touch to clear or score an own goal, and it curls away into the far post.

Oppo goal 5. A hopeful long shot is fumbled by Snout, his only mistake in awful conditions. A nice quiet tap in for the only player within 10 yards - not one of ours.

Turtle goal 1. Lance gets the ball up to PJ, way up in the oppo box. He controls, beats two on the line, and lays it back to Gordie, who calmly waits for an opening and slots it far post.

Stevie H goes off. Makes his first tackle of the season, and inevitably injures a knee. Limps away with exaggeration to the showers after 54 minutes (halftime).

Turtle goal 2. This reporter didn't see it, but apparently it went something like this: A rare oppo attack into the teeth of the blizzard was snuffed out by Snouter sprinting off his line and diving bravely at the feet of Matt Cantwell. He sprang up and released PK on the right. Under pressure, PK did a little drag-back, and squared to Dodge, who thanked him for the pass. A one-two with Si got Dodge out of little squeeze, and it was then chipped out to The Pieman on the left. Steve took it on the chest, down on the knee, and lobbed it into GT in the middle. GT had space, so brought it down and surged forward, the ball sticking to his boot like it was attached by string. As the oppo midfield closed on him, GT struck a delightful outside of the foot pass down the line for Wal on the right. The skipper outpaced his marker, and had time to control it and cut infield. A short infield pass found Daryl, who was arriving at pace. The young father-to-be used one touch to slip it past the last defender, then unleashed a thunderous shot from just inside the box. It was surely in, but somehow the keeper got a despairing finger to it, and it cannoned off the crossbar, back out to the left of the box. Lance was waiting there, and brought it under control with a silky thigh. He was immediately confronted, but shimmied to open up space, and laid it on for PJ, just inside. PJ's first touch was rough, and it went behind him, but this was but a minor setback. With a defender tight on him, PJ flicked the ball up, and knocked it back over his shoulder, into the path of a Gordie run. Our favourite Scotsman met it on the volley, sending a screamer past the right ear of the bemused keeper.