In the Turtle Lounge after the game on Saturday there were two schools of thought on how this particular report should go. One group had grown annoyed recently at the amount of drivel you had to plough through prior to finding out what actually happened. This first group included some of the opposition, Porirua, as they don't appear to have very well developed attention spans. The second group disagreed, arguing that few if any of our (allegedly) wide readership base log on to find out how the Turtles went, but in fact go to these reports to be further puzzled by the mental state of the various authors. There is apparently also a small group of so-called "readers", centering around Glenn Wilkinson, who check these reports primarily in the hope of finding any sort of gratuitous violence and senseless killing, as depicted in the "Jody" report of a couple of years ago. (To that group, Jetplane Press expresses sympathy, and a range of counselling services on request). Well, lets take a sample of the two options available then. Firstly, a factual depiction of the events of the game.

The start of the second round saw a dramatic (sort of) game played out at Karori Park on Saturday. Porirua, as expected, played the ball around with ease from the start, and the Turts mostly chased. In fact, Chris in central midfield claimed not to have touched the ball until about the 20th minute. It was at about the 10 minute mark when Porirua first got inside the Turtle box with any real threat. Blocker, apparently a former rugby league player, burst onto a pass inside the box on the left, and was going to the by-line with only Dodge to beat. Dodge isn't exactly fleet of foot these days, and was recently described by Davey J as the classic Subbuteo man, rarely moving from the spot, just swaying around his immediate radius. A clumsy lunge made contact with Blocker, the ball long gone past. Blocker was later to confess that he could have stayed on his feet, but elected to take the soft landing option, thus presenting a pretty convincing case to Steve L, reffing. Steve was feeling a bit poorly, recovering from Achilles issues, and also a migraine from the previous day. Better timing for that migraine, like eight months ago, and he wouldn't be now staring down the barrel of his first child in a few weeks. The penalty was limp, and Snouter got down to it, but whilst prone fumbled it away into the bottom corner. OK, so that's how your common or garden factual match report might get started.

The alternative might go something like this. Pippi arrived at the PWC offices flushed with excitement. Having secured the interview for the job as assistant to the PA of the Turtles Vice-captain, she was determined to put on a good performance. Whilst the job itself wasn't all that prestigious, the chance to work in the offices of one of the most astute minds ever to run a football team (in his spare time) was an excellent career opportunity. Pippi was sure she could "work her way up", if only she could get that fishnet-stockinged foot in the door. On the 14th floor she approached the reception desk, and was directed down a corridor to the right. As she turned the corner, her flush suddenly became a lot more localised, as the contents of her black lace bra hardened, and further below the familiar tingling began. For seated at the desk in front of Pippi was an absolutely beautiful woman. Mandy, Snouter's PA, had flowing blonde locks framing her perfect oval face. A long, slender neck demanded that Pippi's eyes carried on down to the fulsome cleavage, straining inside the immaculate white suit. Even seated, Mandy radiated an electric energy, a force that almost knocked Pippi back as Mandy stood to greet her."Hi, you must be Pippi. I'm Mandy. We can talk in here, as Murray is away for the day".The words washed over Pippi, her senses temporarily dulled by the physical sensations taking over her body.

She followed Mandy through a large oak door, almost gasping as Mandy's tight little buttocks rustled beneath the taut fabric. And she was powerless to stop the audible sharp outflow of breath that escaped her when Mandy plunged down onto the leather couch and crossed her legs."Let’s do it here, so much more comfortable", said Mandy, seemingly unaware of the full meaning of the words to her prospective assistant. Pippi sat down, touching distance from those exquisite thighs.The interview, such as it was, took five minutes, as Pippi answered the standard questions about her past, and hopes for the future. Mandy seemed efficient, but Pippi was sure there was more to some of the long periods of eye contact, and definitely caught sight of a few downward glances directed at her own assets. Finally, Mandy said, "Well, that's all I have. I must say, you are an attractive proposition for us, but I need more. Is there anything else you can offer me, on a more personal note, that may convince me that I need to have you." These last two words were almost inaudible, more just an outward breath, and a slow movement from those full red lips.Pippi was thrown. Surely this wasn't a come-on. This was a highly respected, professional organisation. She must be reading it all wrong. Surely. She stuttered..."I, well... I'm sure I have more, but...".Mandy rose, and walked towards the door. "What I mean is..." She locked the door, and turned... "I want to see some enthusiasm..." She returned, sat down on the coffee table, and leant forwards, her legs apart, either side of Pippi's. "I want to see some passion". She put her hands on Pippi's knees, and slid them up her thighs. Pippi also now leant forward. The kiss was at first tentative, and then forceful. Wildly aroused now, Pippi stood, and hurriedly unbuttoned her blouse, as Mandy reached around and unzipped her skirt.etc, etc, etc.....

Now you don't really want to hear about that sort of thing, do you? So back to the game. After that early goal, the Turtle defending was a lot more solid. Tel, Dodge, Si and Stevie kept the numerous attacks at bay, but, as it was to be for most of the game, it was the relentless tracking back by Murray and Chris that was crucial to maintain a semblance of balance to the game, preventing us from being over-run. It was an especially good effort from Murray, who was showing no loss of energy from having had an "intimate moment" at his desk not 24 hours previously. That incident, admitted to via email, apparently involved no other people. Murray was known to many of the oppo, having played with them in a previous life, so he was well motivated. His motivation for the aforementioned solo love-making was, apparently, a power-dressing colleague who wears short skirts and sharply pointing shoes. On the flanks, Wal and Weasel also put a lot of defensive effort in, but also got forward as the game progressed. Lance and Frank had few opportunities up front though, as they were dominated by the experienced defenders back there. Lance was the first to flag it away, his legs failing as usual. He has certainly been thrifty with his contributions this season, for varying reason. Just like his thriftiness with money - how many people do you know who make their kids take home-prepared food to the pictures, rather than pay retail prices. Weasel then disappeared up front, we think. He re-appeared at half-time looking fresh, and was immediately chained to the midfield. At that stage the Turts were quite OK with proceedings - there had been a noticeable tiring by the oppo, and we were getting more forward as the game progressed. Snouter had not been seriously troubled again, and the corners had been dealt, with Tel being dominant in the air.The Tropical Fruit Punch was just the tonic on a warm day. In the absence of Grunter, the drinks have taken on a pleasing change, as the ubiquitous SNO has been replaced by some more exotic options. We love Grunter dearly, but he just has to be more innovative in that area for this team to survive.

Anyhoo, five minutes into the second half, and PK, now up front, got round the back and squared for Frank. Five yards out, Frank had the defining moment of the game at his feet. Hit it true, first time, and the game was all square, and the battle joined. Miss, and Dodger wouldn't be best pleased. Frank did indeed miss, but rather than have to deal with the abuse, collapsed with Turtle knee, and was soon showered and gone. This brought about the bizarre new forward line of PK and Stevie. Not the sort of combination to give Paulo Maldini nightmares. To be fair, PK was a threat with his control and turns, and Stevie was available most of the time, but there was no finish, and none of the half chances produced anything like a proper shot. Oh for a Gordie, Spratty, Durry, Gorsie, Cooky. Lawrie? Several times up front the moves were promising, and it was always Murray or Chris making good runs that posed the biggest threat to the score-line. But the final pass was always missing, or the shot to tentative. Something to work on at practise. In March. Down the other end of the slope, the defence continued to hold, despite Tel's inevitable hobbling. Si stepped up, and as well as nullifying the attacks down his side, also carried the ball forward with some of his old drive. Perhaps seeing his Dad on the sideline gave him a boost. Or it could have been nervous energy. Like Steve L, he was to tour the maternity wing of Welly Womens Hospital the next day. One of the final preparatory steps on the path to the hell that is parenthood. You couldn't say the game was petering out. Well you could, but that wouldn't be fair to the effort put in by everyone on the park. There was some nice stuff played by both teams throughout, and Snouter later proclaimed it quite good to watch. Time was ticking away, and with about five to go the old heads of the oppo back four decided to eat up sometime up in their own corner. One of them trotted away to the flag and stood there, shielding the ball expertly. Only Arsehole FC supporters like that sort of thing, so when he was yanked away from the ball, Greenie, who was reffing, thought that was fair enough. PK suddenly had the ball in a good position, and pulled it back to Stevie who, well, you guess. Greenie, first team star and one-time Turtle legend, had been drafted in to ref because he was walking past, and as time was up, he thought it best to let it go a bit, because the Turts really did look like they might just snatch one. At 47 minutes, he was about to blow, but Porirua were mounting a promising attack, so, being a purist, he thought it best to see how it went. After some neat passing down the right, the exhausted Turtle defence was left behind, and a forward approached goal. He had two unmarked players in front of goal, and Snouter claimed he was aware of that, thus leaving a gap on his near post, which the guy gratefully accepted. Now, what do you think? Do you want to know about the game, or other rubbish? Thoughts welcome in the (virtual) Turtle Lounge, which no-one reads.