Unbeaten in November - just
What a Dre Day
Three games running - this is a genuine streak. The Mighty Vets (isn't that James Herriot and Siegfried Farnon? - ED) have now sustained a performance for the whole month. Clearly the Viagra and monkey glands are working. It was an eventful visit from the gentlemen of Pershore. Only this time, they brought GIRLS with them!!! Many Veterans felt weak, Nobby was sweating, and the rest were worried how to approach the game. Pershore had 10 men and 2 ladies and looked far too youthful for our liking.
The 23 November is an interesting date. Serial Killer Dennis Nilsen was born, Roald Dahl died and in 1963 the first episode of Dr Who was born. I love History.
It was a strong team. Gary Perkins
chose an interesting formation of 1-2-4-2-1. It is genuinely interesting at times watching the Vets play as they are like a Russian tractor - good going forward but stopping and turning can be a problem. Surveying the scene from my vantage point in goal, there is always the feeling that a crisis could erupt at any moment. We started brightly though and attacked with all the aplomb of a teenager going after the parents drinks cabinet. Chuckapony is a welcome addition to the team and moves with real pace (its only because he is closer to the ground than others - ED). We were causing them problems and it was no surprise when Simon Russell
slammed home the ball from a flowing move that was like watching chiffon run down Elizabeth Taylor's legs in Cleopatra. However, Pershore struck back quickly when a tricky bouncing ball was missed by Chris Thompson
for the Pershore CF to slam home from 2 inches (he really was that close). Hell's Teeth! said the Keeper and we moved in.
The Vets looked a bit like a buffering computer at times. The intention was good but we moved like it was a bit 'effort' and the ball speed was as slow as a Katie Price in a Spelling Bee. Tzatziki was the only one with real energy, and poor old Mr Messy was not given the ball enough. Despite several short corners (I think you will find that they are called Penalty Corners -ST) we went approached half time without breaking the deadlock. This was until the svelte figure of Oppenheimer appeared at the end of a great move to slam home the goal. 2-1 and the capacity crowd roared. Well -she clapped a bit.
Another Churchillian effort from Perkins at half time. I felt the blood flowing, the sinews stiffening and I was ready to charge into the breach again. Tangerine also gave some good advice - and we were back.
It was a really good second half. We pressed a lot (sound like a chiropractor - ED), and tested out their keeper. They had some shots which were dealt with effectively. It seemed we could only win. And then - they launched a high aerial into the D. Jim watched the ball, and was not warned about the approaching menace from his left by the silent Tagliatelle. The dastardly Pershore slipped in and it was 2-2. Jim was looking bereft and it was telling that everybody ignored him for 5 minutes. Pershore now had their dander up, and they attacked effectively. Steve Aylin
then had 'a moment' (ah - one of those again - S FREUD), and in the resulting chaos, they shot and scored via a BIG deflection. It was 2-3 to the oppo, and it felt that it was going to be one of those days. However, we are made of sterner stuff, and with the diminutive Toblerone in the centre of most of what was good. John Scott
worked hard, and Simon Russell
is like the Duracell Bunny. A PC, a scramble and it was 3-3. You could hear the cheers in Knowle.
We continued to press but Father Time was against us. 3-3 and a rousing three cheers. We then retired to the WagaTabby restaurant for post match food, and drinkies with the opponents. Pershore are a good bunch. Voting for the MoM is fascinating and highlights that some people do see the game differently from others. It was a deserving Tortellini who won though, and we chatted til 11pm talking nonsense. It was all good fun. Next week, we travel to home of Japanese Tourists, Stratford-upon-Avon for a Monday push-back. Until then - en avant.