railway wanderers Vol 1 | Page 16

having not played there since August after three consecutive weeks of being lobbed from impossible angles. No pressure then. Both sides traded shots in the early stages of the first half; Sotirous shot narrowly wide following good work from Gappie Tom down the right whilst I had to tip Mo’s powerful drive over the bar after Pontus pulled it back to him from 12 yards out. Another fast passing exchange put NDP in and his shot was just about clawed away for a corner whilst Ricardo and Gappie Tom were running riot whenever the ball reached them outside the box. At the half-time whistle, Mike B could take it no longer and the world as we know it was changed forever as the 3rds sent out a back-four of Chairman, Butcher, Alessandro and Macheria that for all intents and purposes was dirtier than Paris Hilton in a mudslide.  As expected, ‘the Dogs of War’ did their job and the final third of the pitch quickly became a war zone for those who valued their ankles and the referee’s whistle was getting blown more times than Tiger Woods in a cheap motel. In response, the 2nds poured long balls into the box and eventually their ‘Route 1’ style of football paid off. As Scott and Chairman met to contest the latest long ball, the Chairman’s shoulders did a fine job of knocking Webber out of the air, albeit at the price of a penalty. Now technically, it was a clear and obvious foul, but for the sake of building up drama and a sense of injustice, I wish to state on the record that Scott went down quicker than a whore at a bachelor party. Just so we’re clear on that. Anyway, back to the penalty, which itself was almost not awarded; not because it wasn’t a foul but because technically it could not be proven that Webber was in the area because the groundsman hadn’t painted the lines in months and no-one knew where the box was. Indeed, it was only decided that Chairman had fouled inside the area when the referee counted the amount of paces from the goal line to the point of contact and then had to do the same thing to work out where the penalty spot would go. In that time, the chance to take the penalty had been turned down by more people than the ginger one from Girls Aloud, and Sam, on as a second half substitute, showed Pagey and Webber what balls looked like and stepped up to take the spot kick. As an eerie quiet settled over the pitch, myself and Sam stared each other down as the vegan and the vegetarian braced themselves for the final duel for meat-free diet supremacy. Diving to my right, a momentary impulse shot through my head as I realised both myself and the ball were headed in the same direction. At full stretch, I managed to claw the ball off the line and Mash completed the job by hoofing the ball out into touch. The 3rds were still in the game and I could practically taste the victory Fanta as I dusted