Benalmadena 17th February

Match reports by Rory and Stephen

Faster Farts Game report by Stephen

Reds 5 Blacks 3
Due to a great demand for a shot at the WF experience, todays group kickabout was once again divided into two games. This report covers the match contested by the slightly younger of the old boys, if you know what I mean.

Prior to kick off, Keith reminded everyone of the need to minimise the running and tackling excesses.

Kick off.. It was a closely contested match for the first half hour, which was well controlled by Breck. At this point the reds led by 1-0 thanks to a goal from Dave. An outstanding series of saves by Keith in goal prevented the blacks from scoring.

The reds then moved further ahead in the third quarter and Hans was unfortunate not to make it three but he was found to have encroached the black goal area.

The blacks now managed to pull a goal back but the reds quickly restored their two goal advantage to lead 3-1. In the last quarter, with goalkeeper Keith now not in goal, the blacks managed to draw level through strikes from Olaf and Al to make it 3-all.

Some of the players thought it was all over but Breck decided to play an additional five minutes to see if a winner emerged.

The extra time hero turned out to be Keith for the reds who popped up to score twice, the second of which was a finely crafted shot high into the net.

Apologies must go to my team mates, who had battled back to level the game, as “mea culpa” I set Keith up for his future bragging rights.

Sleepless nights for me I’m afraid and demotion to the “old farts” game no doubt awaits.

Slower Farts Game report by Rory

It was another fine day at the Polideportivo as the so called “old fart’s” game kicked off in front of the bar area. Two evenly matched teams lined up against each other with the blacks deploying their talent in an innovative diamond formation. Dave was busy up front and well supported by t’other Dave in midfield with Pat providing some of the most canny wing play on the left since Eddie Gray graced the Scottish shirt. Mick provided a daunting barrier in goal with the Fish and Ken providing some solid defensive play.

For the reds, Rory started in goal to protect his calf knack, Brian and Glyn (with his magical shiny boots) provided some sound defensive cover and the Commander was the conduit for a lot of the free flowing moves through the middle of the park. Up front, goal hanger Mike….well, he goal hung, and Steve had a free role, which basically meant he was one of the few players not carrying a major injury. Thanks to the wonders of stop motion cameras, the crowd was treated to a fast flowing exhibition of Jurgen vs Pep pass and move ball trickery.

The blacks started off strongly and had the reds penned back in their half for most of the first quarter of the game. T’other Dave and Dave were combining well in advanced positions for the blacks and Pat was putting the Wizz in Wizardry as he unfurled his cultured left foot with more than a hint of Souness in some of his crisp tackles. The reds had been busy “setting out their stall”, and had momentarily forgotten they had a game to play. Mike was doing his best to provide an outlet for the reds up front, but the blacks snuffed out any forward moves and kept the pressure on the reds’ goal. The inevitable happened when Dave was put through and found himself one on one with the overconfident Rory in the reds’ goal. Without hesitation the hard-working front man slotted it into the bottom corner. There was a quick offside check as VAR seemed to indicate that Dave’s nasal hair had just wandered beyond the last defender. However, the goal stood and the reds were deservedly in front.

With the Commander barking out orders and setting up wave after wave of attacks, the reds started to exert some control and get into more advanced positions where Mike started to find some space in front of the opposition goal. Being the only player on the pitch with two working legs, Steve was creating havoc in the blacks’ defence and the chances started to flow. An equaliser looked like it was on the cards. Brian was having some joy down the right flank and was combining well with the Commander who was orchestrating some of the best moves for the reds.

The blacks were still proving dangerous and a chance soon materialised for big Mick who had passed on the gloves to t’other Dave and taken up some advanced positions. With Brian suffering some knee knack, Rory got a chance to shuffle forward on the pitch. Glyn was doing a great job of breaking up the reds’ attacks, but after a period of pressure, big Mick ghosted into a pocket of space in front of goal. The ball took more changes of direction than a pin-ball before flying off Mick’s big toe and through Brian’s legs into the goal. It was a calamity of errors, but still 2-0 to the blacks.

This moment of action heralded the pivotal moment of the match when Rory managed to steal the ball off t’other Dave and move in on goal with only the Fish to beat. Rory gave the Fish the eyes…..but then the Fish gave them back to him and pulled of a remarkable save when a goal seemed certain. Even though the reds continued to pile the pressure on with Mike having more shots than a stag weekend in Torremolinos, the blacks held on, thanks to some notable saves from t’other Dave. In one of the more bizarre moments in the game Mike managed to shake off his limpit- like markers and spun around to find the Fish juggling the spare footballs like a failed trialist for the cirque de soleil. Mike didn’t need a second invite and fired the ball into the empty net, to give the reds a smidgeon of hope heading into the latter part of the game.

With Pat back in goal the blacks were conceding space on their left flank and more opportunities presented themselves to Mike and Steve up front. However, Pat went full Jim Leighton and pulled off a couple of stunning saves to deny the reds and crush their spirit. The fatal blow was delivered by the Fish, who had worked his way up the right wing and ran on to a lovely through ball from t’other Dave. The Fish was clinical as he hammered the ball past the onrushing keeper. Fish had not only put the game to bed, he’d embalmed it, sealed it in a lead coffin, wreathed it in chains and dropped it in the deepest channel in the Mediterranean. Game over, blacks 3-1 reds.