In typical stallions fashion 3 people at the ground with
only 20 minutes til kick off assessed the turf as soft. Gradually trickling in the boys looked amped (at
1 mW – roughly the power of a small
hearing aid) and ready for the game.
With pony geared up with a lovely offwhite, freedom fighter
graced sweatband and matching arm band, Panda finally abandoning the mystery
van’s heater, we took the field. What a motley looking crew indeed. A few
blasts over the post, while the central midfield practised their pinpoint
passing and suddenly Fidel had blown the whistle much to both his, and our, surprise.
Justin Bieber and his BFF made a slick passing move straight
through the advancing midfielders, with aplomb. A sign of things to come, it
came to nothing – mopped up easily with excellent positional play, great
communication and a gargantuan game by the back line.
Although slick passing the norm, fortunately for the
stallions, their final pass was absent to say the least. A few shots from
outside the box either went well over the top, were deflected by defenders, or
in the case of Paul ‘the cat’ Kilford saved brilliantly.
A good ole fashioned tug o war ensued with pressing runs
going in both directions. Until Tangihaere
let Beiber go around him, only the once and for half a step further bringing
him down with a delicate sledge hammer swing around the ankles. Penalty Miramar.
1-0.
Heads not down at all, the stallions were able to answer almost
straight away, Rauru opened up his account early with a well finished goal,
followed by another, then some other blokes scored, before Rauru was able to get both the hat trick and his fourth
goal.
Unfortunately for this writer, with so many goals coming
from Rauru’s boot, (and god forbid, his head) they have all become a blur. Not
mention the concussion received when this writer was viciously shoulder charged
by a 6foot 3(around the middle) angry Irishman, who moments before had stopped Lloyds’s
second attempt this year to set a record
810°
turn, with a wildly inaccurate swinging arm.
Booked for the first and second infringement, he was asked
to leave the field. This started a tirade of misdirected childlike insults
regarding the colour of a certain attacking midfielder’s hair (yes I do have
red hair, thanks for noticing, but I can dye it – you, me old china plate, will
always be a tosser), and his sexual orientation (there was a fair amount of
crying in the loo this week over that one). Insults, seemingly having no effect,
meant the tackles became harder and more illegal (Bieber and his BFF were seen
holding hands discussing the best way to take out old ginge) in complete disrespect
for the game.
Nonetheless there were hand shakes after the game and promises
to ‘get me’ never materialised, though I bet Miramar will be looking forward to
the return fixture with relish.
Never let the truth (or details) get in the way of a story I say.
For posterity you may comment on what actually happened. (Goals only - the sending off occurred exactly as written here, apart from some theatrics that had no impact on the sending off whatsoever -he really hurt my head, and the so-called smile was a grimmace)