My preparation for a match starts on a Monday morning, when I check out the WSA Website for the draw for Saturday. The research process begins immediately.Of course I've heard of the Turtles, but this would be my first game with them. Talk around the footy scene of Welly describes them as a once powerful juggernaut that has recently lost much of its power. And jugger. And naut. To supplement my knowledge, I had a look at their Website. For some reason this had ceased to be updated since a game in July. Perhaps their webmeister had had a nasty accident. These things happen. I knew a ref once who lost the use of his fingers after an altercation with a German dominatrix. He never used that agency, or a PC, again. Probably more likely the Turtles webmeister is too busy mending his new wife's stockings, or something like that. Anyway, I studied their season to that date, and matched up some of the players to the (outdated, and, frankly, puerile) player profiles. This gave me a good base for the game. As for their opponents, who cares. From midday Thursday, I abstain from sex. To assist with this discipline, I deflate Dolly, and locked her away in a cupboard with my Barbarella DVD and my Jane Fonda Workout video.The day itself was a bright and breezy spring day, and after the winter we had just endured, an real spirit-lifter. Having retired the night before at the conclusion of Star Trek: The Next Generation, I was up early to feed Charles and Di, my budgies. After a short work-out, without the help of Jane, I had my usual large breakfast, and then a bath. I restrict my match day shaving to my face, so that speeds up my ablutions somewhat, and that gives me extra time to iron my uniform.As always, I arrive at the ground four hours before kick-off, fully kitted out. This gives me ample time to carry out my preparation. First up is the escape route plan. Ever since that horrible day in Wainui in 1986, I always carefully map out at least three routes that will enable quick freedom. My decisions on that fateful day were not in the least controversial, except perhaps for the last minute penalty. I believe three of my assailants never played for that club again. Little comfort in that thought for my sphincter though, as it still contracts involuntarily at the sight of a piece of four-by-two. Secondly, I check the behind-the-goal areas for ambush spots. I haven't been shot at yet, but no harm in being cautious. The play-ground at the northern end of Ben Burn Park is a concern, so I won't be getting to close to that end.Next up is a pitch inspection. Small stones are removed, as are dog turds and discarded underwear. I like to pat down any major divets, and sprinkle the goal areas with some dried manure if they are a bit damp. Two hours before kick-off the curtain raiser normally commences, so I take that opportunity to slip off to a local coffee shop for some tea and Anzac bikkies.I return to the ground at 2:17, to see that the previous game has finished, and the Turtles and their opponents are warming up. I recognise a few, but their keeper is not the usual Snout, but Lawrie, part-time half and full-time mechanic. This selection is curious to say the least, but I'm sure the captain (Wal) has method in this madness. Otherwise it seems a predictable Turtle lineup, except for the centre midfield pairing of Phildo and Sean. As it turns out these two dominate the early proceedings. Sean is by far the most composed passer on the field, and playing in front of the back four, makes all the Turtle passing look tidy. Phildo is full of nice touches, and carries it forward fluently. Playing with the wind and the slope, the Turtles have most of the attacking play, but it is pretty close really. Their opponents are very competitive, and full of running. For my part it was generally an easy game to control, the only bit of dissent coming from Dodger, but that was expected. I'd been told he comes from the John McEnroe school of sportsmanship. The Turtle first half goals (see notes below), come from moments of individual skill, but the whole team was playing well, particularly the defence, which completely protected Lawrie in goal.With the half-time turn-around I expected the contest to even up, and for five minutes it looked all on. Even after the first couple of goals in the half, it still didn't seem like a game that justified the score, so when my card showed 9-0 it was almost a surprise. In retrospect, there were three factors. The Turtle defence was superb. No oppo attacker was allowed inside the box at all, and Lawrie didn't have a single difficult shot to deal with. Secondly, Sean was the controlling factor in the midfield, making distribution for everyone else all the more easy by his availability and vision. Thirdly, Gordie was rampant in the second half. As soon as became obvious that the defenders couldn't cope with him running at them, he was merciless. His, and the games, last goal, was exhilarating.Goal notes:First Half:Phil L collected the ball from the corner, had a shot which rebounded back to him, and he thence finished into the roof of the net.Gordon D beat a defender and approached goal. His effort was blocked, but Daryl M, following up, finished into an empty net.Andrew W ran down the right and crossed for Gordon D to finish.Second Half:Lance D approached from the left and passed to Gordon D who tapped in from close range. A shortish goal kick went to Simon L about 30 yards out. His forceful header was into the path of Gordon D, who turned and lashed it into the top of the net from just inside the box.Gordon D collected wide out on the left. After beating two defenders, his first effort on goal was half saved by the keeper, but the rebound bounced up, and he was able to nod into the net.Gordon D went to the line on the right of goal, and crossed with great power for the on coming Daryl M, who deflected into goal from close range off his upper thigh and penis.Lance D went to the line on the left, and seeing the keeper off line, slotted it over him into the far top corner with the outside of his boot.Gordon D dispossessed a defender on half-way, and ran rapidly towards goal before finishing clinically passed the advancing keeper.After blowing the final whistle, I was thanked by a few of the players, and collected my bag. Wal asked me back to the clubrooms, but I politely declined. Familiarity can breed contempt, so I like to keep my distance. So, that was the Turtles 2002. Not bad.