I was delighted to get the opportunity to watch this particular game. More often than not the drink bottle, for whom I am cap and spiritual figurehead, is left to sit on the bottom of the bucket, meaning that I can't quite see over the top. But on Saturday Grunter, back in charge after a five-week absence, put some water in the bucket and had the drink bottle sitting on top of the sponges, so I had a clear view over the rim of the bucket. "Hang on minute", I hear you say, "Don't tell me that this match report is being written by the cap of the drink bottle, an inanimate piece of plastic".

Well, it is. If you can't handle the concept then you have no place on this website.The logistics of just how a small plastic cap (approximately 4cm in diameter) is able to use a keyboard is not your concern. Suffice to say that there are certain things in this world that are better left unexplained. My Turtle career stretches back into the early years of the dynasty, and I can confidently report that I have been present at more games than any other member of the management team. Age and fatherhood has taken its toll on Grunter in recent years, and his appearances on the sideline are becoming more and more infrequent. I find myself spending as much time at Stevie's house these days. In the laundry. Which is cold. Grunter keeps us in a cupboard in the kitchen, which is much nicer. Still, variation is the spice of life, as my nan, a tupperware lid, used to always say. She was a silly old stick really. Always getting stuck, and she invariably had food dribbling down her chin. For a long time I was happy to stay with Grunter, but you know, you get older, and want to see new places. And I like the way I get to be at the whole game when Grunter is away. He never brings us until well into the first half, and by the time we got to Ben Burn on Saturday, the Turts were already 2 zip down. The poor old dear just doesn't move as quick as he used to, and getting out of the house on a Saturday afternoon is a real ordeal. The sponges always claim to know the time, don't ask me how, and they were squealing as usual. I love them to bits, but they can get on your nerves, I tell you. The Turtle Juice bottle itself was of course oblivious to any lateness, due to the fact that he is a complete dunce. No personality, no brains, not a shred of common sense. He gives plastic a bad name to be honest. Two litres of dense emptiness. Still, I'm stuck with him.

So we got to the ground. Eventually. Dodge and Darrin were moping around on the sideline, possibly injured, possibly retired, and they gave Grunter a brief run-down on the two goals."Grunter, you big poof", began Dodge, charming as ever. "It's about time. You get more useless every year"."Hi Grant. Nice to see you", said Darrin. "How is Clare these days - haven't seen her for ages. We must have you lot round for a cuppa sometime soon"."Chortle, chortle. How are we going?", said the Boss.Dodge leapt at the chance for some abuse. "Pathetic. 2 nil down to a bunch of homos. For the first goal, one of our fag midfielders gave it away, and basically invited Tawa to play a through ball forward. Anybody other than PK would have been able to handle it, but he looks like he has SARS today. He was barged out of the way by the Tawa forward, who apparently was called PK too, and this guy had a first time shot. It was an OK effort, but any keeper worth $2 would have saved it. Snout made one of his slow motion dives, and got a limp-wristed hand to it as it went across him into the bottom corner. Everyone is playing like faggots"."Er, thanks Dodge. How about the second goal?"

Darrin jumped in - "a classy piece of footy. A corner from this side was targeted straight at their tall midfielder, a chap called Chappy, or something like that. This guy is old and bald, but all class. Even with Tel challenging, he went towards the ball, and directed a powerful header towards the top corner. Snouter made a sharp reflex attempt to save, but it was such a good header that even he couldn't stop it going in just over PK at the near post. Since then the lads have come back into it a bit, but this Tawa side has got a lot of good players across the middle, and a really sharp front two. We've actually done well to hold it so far into the wind"."What a load of bollocks. Are you watching the same game?", inquired Dodge.

Fortunately, Grunter wandered off to talk to some other supporters at this stage, and put us down out of earshot. This is much nicer. Just the gentle rush of the wind around the top of the bucket, the occasional complaint from the sponges, and an unobstructed view of the game. I've never seen any other game of footy other than those played by the Turtles, and I just can't imagine other teams could be better to watch. The skills, the effort, the triumph and the anguish. I've seen all the greats, and a fair few complete clods, but it is always a spectacle. I've heard talk of World Cups, of Brazil, and Man United, and The Arse, whoever they are, but I just can't imagine a more enjoyable team to watch than the Turtles. So they lose most of the time now. Who cares. There is always drama and excitement. And this Tawa game was no exception.

2 nil down against the wind didn't seem too bad. Phildo and Lance up front were getting a bit of ball, and Wal was attacking with gusto when he got space on the right. Tel and Si seemed to be coping OK, except for one clear chance that was fluffed with only Snout to beat. Over on the left, the two Steve's got forward a fair bit, the highlight being when Steve L over-lapped and knocked in a lovely low cross which caused problems. The lads did look rather dejected when they trudged over for a drink, but soon perked up when they saw me. Or was it the sight of Gordie, standing in front of me. I couldn't be sure. As it was, the SNO was well received. Grunter called it "Grade 1", rather than the cheap muck Stevie had dished up recently. Personally, I couldn't tell the difference, based on texture and smell, but Grunter likes to exercise his class-insecurity at every opportunity. Nevertheless, the Turts did looked suitably refreshed at the restart. Luckily I was put back on the top of the bottle, and so could see the rest of the game. I hate it when I'm chucked in the bottom of the bucket, or left on the ground in the long grass. Makes for a frustrating second half.

So Gordie was on. His "other" team had had a 12:30 game, and he had valiantly turned up to help out. Immediately Tawa recognised his danger, and seemed to change their structure, putting the Chappy chap deeper. After about 10 minutes, a big wind-assisted Snouter hoof reached Gordie on the run, and he slotted calmly after his usual pissing around to look good. This made Tawa a bit nervous, and it was game on. With the oppo’s skill and energy in midfield, Murray, Chris and GT had trouble getting too much forward, and it was a very central tussle, with the occasional break at either end. Phildo and PK held back, allowing Wal and Stevie H to wander further forward. Tel and Si were trying to push forward up the middle, and when on one occasion they both over-committed, it was trouble. Tel was up on the right flank, and was about due to do his weekly crumple. He made a wayward pass, and with Si stranded inside, the quick break was on. Steve L had two to cope with, and had to leave the man in the middle free. The square ball found him, and he shot firmly. Snout had advanced, and spread himself expertly to cover the first shot, but unluckily the rebound went straight back to the attacker, who rammed it away for 3-1.Soon after Tel did crawl off, and our resources were stretched, much like the shirt on PJ's supposedly slimmer figure.

But Gordie was still a threat, and when he got the ball in the box from a Si through ball, he went down to the right byline, came back a bit, and tapped it gently past the keeper for 3-2. Another similar trot by Gordie down the right five minutes later nearly created an equaliser for Murray, but he tried a short pass to Stevie inside the box rather than trying to shoot, and the chance was gone. Gordie got two more chances in the dying minutes. One from a hopeful hoof from the back, when he got clear but missed his shot, when he has converted those many times before, and a few minutes later he collected, turned and shot just wide from the edge of the box. That's not to say it was a one-man effort though. Everyone kept up the effort to the end, particularly the oldest, Chris, and the youngest, Si, who wrapped up the defence and still pushed up when they had the chance. Wal and Murray played wide, and covered plenty of ground in search of the opening, but the Tawa defenders were solid. And their appealing was loud for every throw in and offside, a crucial factor in gaining most of the decisions from Darrin, who was reffing in a bizarrely impartial fashion. So once again a close loss for the lads. But great entertainment as always. If there is one thing I regret it's that I can't express my appreciation at the end of the game. But that's just part of being plastic, I guess. We were briefly left outside the changing rooms whilst Grunter went inside to giggle a bit, and then it was into the boot for the ride home. My main job complete for another week.

The writing I do in my spare time.