Prouille 1, Lane Cove West 4
31 May 2008, Commenara
Man Utd 4, Benfica 1. 29 May 1968, Wembley
Forty years and
two days ago, another 4-1 victory. Man Utd and Matt
Busby finally won the Holy Grail, the quest for which had consumed a team at
Today brought
our last four wins to 16-1 in aggregate (and the 1 was unfortunate: see below).
A draw and a win punctuated those wins, but when we win, we win big.
The pattern of
play is becoming consistent, too. When we win, it’s usually because we score
early, settle down, play good football, create lots of chances, blow too many
of them, but nonetheless gradually accumulate goals.
And so it was
today, but with a twist: a goal from our opponents canceling our early strike.
But this time (unlike our drawn Kissing Point game) we kept to the script and
came thorough comfortably in the end.
Early on, Prouille showed a bit of useful speed and skill up front. But
we settled ourselves down with another perfect corner from James. With a variation. I was on the near post. James called my
name. The ball curled right to me, and was deflected into the net: 1-0. But how
the ball got to the net is a bit of a mystery. I ducked: not as a cunning
wheeze, I fear - just self-protection. Then I think it hit a defender behind
me. But what mattered was that it was in, and we were on a way.
Then
the misfortune. I
regret that it began with me: lost the ball into touch unnecessarily, around
the half-way line. A slick move took the ball to our area. Tony had the shot
covered, but then it squirmed behind him, before he grabbed it back. What we
really didn’t need at this point was a diligent linesman, but there he was, on
the goal-line and flagging with such enthusiasm you’d think he scored it
himself: 1-1.
But
not for long. No doubt
lacking confidence in my ability to keep ducking at the right moment, James
reverted to the corner that hangs over the penalty spot for someone – this time
Bob – to power in and head home: 2-1.
Prouille now
lost belief and confidence, and we found it. More chances came and went before
half-time: Matt and James chasing everything, Dave getting in some good
headers, pin-point corners floating over. A good time was had by all.
At half-time we
were joined by Alan, making his debut for us, and his fresh legs in the defence were very welcome, as the day was hot, and Prouille still weren’t lying down.
But the story of
the second half was mostly us almost scoring, but doing so only twice.
Firstly, a low
cross from the right (by Dave?) was very smartly met by Bob and rifled in.
Then an historic
moment: a goal from Ernie! Shimmies into the area, seems to be blocked, is taking too long. No, he’s created space again and there
it is: beaten the keeper, and it’s 4-1.
Archivists are
still working on when it was that Ernie last scored. Certainly it was in that
larger portion of the previous millennium before records were computerized.
Parchment or stone tablet might be where the answer is found.
In the meantime,
we hit the woodwork twice, and Jon B got himself on the end of a free-kick but
not onto the scoresheet, when the execution of his
far-post header failed to do justice to set-up.
So a
satisfactory result, but could still do better, as my school reports used to
say. Will need to do better, indeed, against better teams.
But then we always seem to. The trick is to play well even when our opponents
aren’t.
Jon was third in
the man-of-the-match voting, for solid defence, as
well as forays upfield. Matt was second for the usual
non-stop enthusiastic chasing. And Bob was the winner: as a double goal scorer
should be (and as his namesake Bobby Charlton probably was 40 years ago when
their equivalent of Ernie – Nobby Stiles comes to
mind – tallied up the team’s voting slips in the dressing room at Wembley).
Thanks again to
Phil for organizing the subs.
MARK BRYANT