The ball began to roll at
The teams were as thus:- Wincheston Reds (Cherry Red Bibs) - No 1 Goalkeeper - Arthur Bent, No 2 Defender - Colin
Crisp, No 3 Defender - Willy Wafer, No 4 Midfield - William Staines, No 5
Midfield - Charlie Bateman, No 6 - Attacker - Terry Thompson, No 7 - Attacker -
Nobby Nobson. Cudley Tigers (Pale Lemon
Bibs, Black Stripes) - No 1 Goalkeeper - Ted Barnett, No 2 Defender - James
Potter, No 3 Defender - Giles Mix, No 4 Midfield - George Shaftsbury, No 5
Midfield - Hector Blythe, No 6 Attacker - Colin Crinkle, No 7 Attacker - Geoff
Flair.
For those of you with a decent memory and a sharp
eye, you may remember that Cudley's Flair was the Captain of Crikeshire Utd who
Wincheston beat in the last round. The fact that his father is on the
Board of Governors, his mother has a size 38DD chest and buttocks to match, and
Mr Liddell is a sucker for a pretty disgrace, may have seen to it that the
original No 7 (Chunks O' Shapley) was paid to give up his place with a deluge
of Penny Arrows and Fruit Salad Chews. Shapley, like any other boy with a
sweet tooth and an idling constitution, was only too happy to fall into the
shadows and gain weight, besides he thought football was rather silly and
preferred the true man’s game of 'Ping Pong' - well it does take all sorts.
And to the match...
The initial action saw the Reds bumble the ball
around with something akin to organised precision although I am sure those who
wrote the text-books would disagree. Potter for the Tigers was an awkward
customer in their rear ranks and whenever the reds advanced he duly stood his
ground and always destroyed any rising potential. His teammate Mix was a
long-legged companion and if a squabble of shanks fought for the ball, 9 times
of out 10, one of his milky white pins would be seen to dip in and prod the
ball to safety. As The Tigers absorbed their opponents became frustrated
and the quite delicate Willy Wafer, although laden with speed, was unable to
make ground and looked on the brink of tears. Eventually the first
breakthough was had, it went to the wasp coloured team who soaked up another
onslaught and then broke via a wild clearance from Potter who somehow found
Crinkle. Crinkle, a grubby fellow with a focused streak collected, turned
and took three strides before scuffing the ball through the legs of Bent who,
in truth, shouldn't have been picking his nose and should have been
concentrating on the game instead. The class of Miss Tweed made sweet
merry Hell, shouting with gusto whilst Bent, with snot encrusted fingers,
picked the ball out of the net and booted back to the centre circle where
Nobson and Thompson took up the reins.
Straight from the kick-off the 2 Reds’ attackers
worked with speed, kept things simple and after a brace of one-twos Thompson
shot for goal and hit the post only to see Bateman steam in and grab the equaliser
- the game was back to all square and the half-ended perfectly balanced.
The class of Mr Tome paid back their opposing fans with uproar although the
celebrations were marred when Jonty Squires flicked a V-sign and was duly
knuckled on the bonse and told to take a trip to the headmaster’s office.
After half an orange each and a swig of Adam's
Ale the two teams recommenced where they left off with the touchline support
now raised to a new level. Things were nip and tuck, like a game of
tennis between Ken Rosewall and Arthur Ashe the ball went incessantly back
and forth. At one point Clusternuts O-Toole of Class 1FA pulled a muscle
in his neck trying to keep up with the darn ball whilst Mary Bell's cross eyes
were more than a little sore after the first 30 minutes of action. 10
minutes went by, 20 followed suit, the final ten jumped on the ticking
bandwagon and looked to be happy contributing nothing in the way of
chances. A hoof here, a long ball there, a mad dash for one side, a counter
by the other, with the last minutes winding down there was little to choose
between the sides. Suddenly, out of the
dull dabblings and huff and puff fiasco,
