With the lads three from three (losses that is) and following the bone crushing news of the loss of one of the Vale stalwarts of the past fifteen seasons (Mayor Pierre Gougere), the players were no longer looking forward to getting up on a Sunday. Attempting to change the poor run of form, superstitious Flopsy bought some much needed new boots, superstitious Danbo insisted on a team photo, and superstitious Stuey didn’t turn up. Following a heated warm up session, with the obligatory letting down of the balls after over pressurisation by the over zealous Vale ball boys, the match kicked off. The opponents this week? Areley Kings. Played two, won one. Surely today would be a good day to break the duck? Chance would be a fine thing.
The boys started well, with Areley giving a lot of room and allowing the free flowing game we all enjoy to watch. The ball was doing the work, with a little help from the Vale, and overall it was rather enjoyable. At least no one had given up yet anyway… A few chances and half chances came and went but it certainly looked like the Vale had recovered from the vomit inducing, rectum tearing result from last week, and even with reduced squad they seemed to be coping well. Then ho hum it started. Someone gave away a soft free kick on the Vale’s left. The ball was flicked over the eager wall, both flopsy and smudger cowering on the front line, into the box, where the trixsy little hobbit up front for the Kings volleyed home unmarked. Rumours abound of floating marking were quickly brushed aside, accusations made and dropped and a general bollocks was uttered, but recovery was a must. 0-1.
Out they came again, and again with the space working for them, down the left, then the right, left right left right, about turn, defend defend, smoothly stroke the ball away and back on the attack. It was great to watch, with Abberley tossing out whole roast chicken, spit roasted wild boar and smoked Scottish salmon for the hungry crowd to gorge on, and gorge they must for the food would be shortlived. Hungry Kings strolled in to steal the dessert. A big hoof over the top bounced over the man mountain Tim, bounced again over Cam, tempting a wild air shot from the centre back, and finally into the path of the shortarse up front. One two three steps and bang into the net. 0-2.
Now any other team would be thinking about jacking it in, but not the Vale, for time and time again they had been in this position and they were getting used to coming from behind, albeit usually in a sputtering motion that never quite made it past the lips into the sweet sweet nectar residing behind. Back they came and on top they got then suddenly a bit of nifty footwork from Chuffster, slipped through to Geremi, then slipped through to Laan, it’s a tight angle he’ll control it and come inside no he won’t BAZOOONGA! He blamed it into the top corner and the Vale are back. 1-2.
It carried on straight from the kick off, arguments abound in the Areley camp, and raiders from the Vale party were nipping in, nicking their tent pegs and letting loose cows intended to trample their aforementioned temporary accommodation. Two short corners were wasted, Laan used the previously coined “Pull the trigger” for the second time this season on a stammering Chuff, and mistakes were forced in the Kings defence by some tireless running from Honest Paul, and then came the second. Laan passed to Danbo, Danbo return pass. Laan held it up, waited, waited, hold the line, waited then slip went the ball through the defence. Dan, keen to avoid the offside trap counted to 4 one thousand before sneaking through using his patented Secret Squirrel offensive. Again it’s a tight angle, he’s not going to hit it first time oh he is and IN IT GOES!! EAT THAT PUDDING!! 2-2.
Half time came, Ginge had a quiet word to give it much of the same and the lads returned to the field. Five minutes later they were back behind. A free kick on the edge of the box was whipped in. Flopsy, too slow to claim his usual wall place, intended to mark the big centre back, but instead busied himself with polishing his new acquisitions. The ball curled into the top right corner and the Areley centre back made sure by running it in with his head. 2-3.
Changes were needed, and a new Vale virgin was brought on. Honest Paul Chuffbrother made way for Chris Geremicousin. Forward went the ball and extra reserves of energy were found. Pinning them back the Vale gave away a throw on the edge of the Kings box. In it came and a strong Ratboy header sent it forwards, Geremi tossed it goalwards with his bonce, then Smudger (yes Smudger… you’re not going to believe the next bit) flicked the ball on with his noodle (I know, you wouldn’t believe it unless you saw it) onto Chris, who controlled, jinked, janked, jonked, then smashed the ball home. 3-3.
Surely no more would come of this game? Everyone looked nackered but the Vale were still hungry for their first Div 5 scalp. Alas it was not to be. Another big hoof up the field met Camo and Timo practicing mid air kissing, only for the ball to bobble off their conjoined heads, lips locked tightly together, tongues intertwined like serpents at play, and into the path of the hobbit. Andy tried to spring out but got half way to the man when the ball was deftly chipped over his stranded frame for the 4th. 3-4.
Arse, tits and mudgin. The ref blew his whistle after several “get on with it”s. And its four from four. Next week the Loom and Shuttle, opponents from the first competitive season of the Vale. Current stats, Played 2, won 1, lost 1. Come on lads, my writing skills are going to waste on you lot.
Nibbler
