The Lives and Times of a Sunday League Team Part III by Claire Bagnall
Claire Bagnall continues her pursuit of Sunday League.
When starting this series of columns I did not quite realise what it would involve. Whether hours of boredom, romantic entanglement, or frostbite lay ahead of me. Seemingly, the reality is probably a monstrous mash of all the above with several other things besides. Like being abused by rival team members on the Lizard dance floor, for example. Jealousy is a terrible thing; it does not complement a light up dance floor.
Not to mention the fact that some things are beyond the control of even the best football teams. Sadly, weather is one of them; and needless to say Scotland is fond of inclement weather. Consequently, weeks have passed and games have not been played. Each Sunday rolled by with a tug at the heartstrings of your journalist – another week without seeing her favorites in action; another Sunday spent in the delightful warmth of her flat. Now the game is on again, with the test of true football determination and devotion: playing in Arctic conditions.
The first match in weeks finally happened last Sunday against Angels. Result 5-5: the first draw of the season. Strong winds and freezing conditions did not do much to help the depleted team. How a squad of a hundred or so had been reduced to ten men none of us could really fathom. Players were wearing hoodies under t-shirts, gloves and big woolly scarves – to the disgust of the more “manly” players who refused to endorse such signs of weakness. Though there was a player on the opposition wearing pink shorts, socks and sweatbands, which was highly commendable.
Though the team, understandably, started a little shakily, as the game went on they gained composure and improved. A multitude of missed chances meant that, unfortunately, yet another win was out of reach.
Come half time Angels were winning. On the plus side, during half-time Why Not? completely put the Twilight Saga: New Moon torsos to shame as they changed their shirts. If there had been hoards of teenage girls in the vicinity, we would have been deafened by screams. Doubtless.
The second half brought another player, which definitely made a difference. Spotlighting in the team, Jeff proved valuable, scoring two goals. Fais also scored and after a beautiful run deserved another goal. The highlight being a headed goal from Ry Morgan – the fulfilment of an alcohol-fuelled promise from the night before. There was laughter (from me) at shambolic goal mouth scenes, where there were at least four men on the floor, and empty nets with no ball in the back of them. However, by this point, all feeling had gone from my feet, and the draw seemed to be the best thing to take from the match; the team having repeatedly come from behind.
Roll on next week. I expect victory once more. Good hustle.
Claire Bagnall continues her pursuit of Sunday League.
When starting this series of columns I did not quite realise what it would involve. Whether hours of boredom, romantic entanglement, or frostbite lay ahead of me. Seemingly, the reality is probably a monstrous mash of all the above with several other things besides. Like being abused by rival team members on the Lizard dance floor, for example. Jealousy is a terrible thing; it does not complement a light up dance floor.
Not to mention the fact that some things are beyond the control of even the best football teams. Sadly, weather is one of them; and needless to say Scotland is fond of inclement weather. Consequently, weeks have passed and games have not been played. Each Sunday rolled by with a tug at the heartstrings of your journalist – another week without seeing her favorites in action; another Sunday spent in the delightful warmth of her flat. Now the game is on again, with the test of true football determination and devotion: playing in Arctic conditions.
The first match in weeks finally happened last Sunday against Angels. Result 5-5: the first draw of the season. Strong winds and freezing conditions did not do much to help the depleted team. How a squad of a hundred or so had been reduced to ten men none of us could really fathom. Players were wearing hoodies under t-shirts, gloves and big woolly scarves – to the disgust of the more “manly” players who refused to endorse such signs of weakness. Though there was a player on the opposition wearing pink shorts, socks and sweatbands, which was highly commendable.
Though the team, understandably, started a little shakily, as the game went on they gained composure and improved. A multitude of missed chances meant that, unfortunately, yet another win was out of reach.
Come half time Angels were winning. On the plus side, during half-time Why Not? completely put the Twilight Saga: New Moon torsos to shame as they changed their shirts. If there had been hoards of teenage girls in the vicinity, we would have been deafened by screams. Doubtless.
The second half brought another player, which definitely made a difference. Spotlighting in the team, Jeff proved valuable, scoring two goals. Fais also scored and after a beautiful run deserved another goal. The highlight being a headed goal from Ry Morgan – the fulfilment of an alcohol-fuelled promise from the night before. There was laughter (from me) at shambolic goal mouth scenes, where there were at least four men on the floor, and empty nets with no ball in the back of them. However, by this point, all feeling had gone from my feet, and the draw seemed to be the best thing to take from the match; the team having repeatedly come from behind.
Roll on next week. I expect victory once more. Good hustle.