Sunday the 13th of September 2009, a date which will live in infamy, a day where the mighty fall, where dreams of an unbeaten season lay waste on the ground of Hutt Park. The Marauders went into the game bookies favourite only to have the rug ripped out from under them by a determined Tuskan Raiders.
The pre-match brekkie at the cross was frequented by a fair proportion of the playing eleven as well as a spattering of MILF’s with children in tow. Wilson assuring us that none even came close to WAG of the year Mrs Dempster. After food was served and downed Dribble managed to convince the staff to serve him a coffee in spite of his obvious ADHD. A 20 min wait ensued as they picked, roasted and ground the coffee beans, eventually we were away, not before a stop off for Fold to pick up his supplies of course.
The entire team showed up at the ground well before kick off to watch the Plate Final. In what appeared to be a good game, the lead ebbed and flowed with never more than one goal in it. It was eventually won by Trentham 3-2. Not bad for a team that failed to win a single league game all season. But anything can happen in cup football as we all now know.
The highlight of the pre-match warm up was the team photo’s taken by both Will’s. Thus far Fold was only a few beers in so I’m guessing that the camera was still steady. I look forward to the video you’ve put together Fold, I hope you picked up another box of DB for the editing portion as promised.
The toss was won by the opposing captain. He chose to go into the wind in the first half, although no one told their keeper as he proceeded to pound the ball past half way all too consistently. He consistently followed through in is free kick attempt that went well over in the second half, much to the relief of those of us in the wall.
The opening exchanges were dominated by The marauders as the Raiders struggled into a wind that seemed to be getting stronger. Wilson was ever present up front dropping to receive the pass and feeding some good ball out to the wing and back to Dribble and Sam in the midfield but few chances eventuated. The first chance came from an over confident defender trying to do too much in his box. A tackle from myself had the ball fall to Wilson who obviously had no idea it was coming as he was still standing in an offside position, he proceeded to slot it past their keeper to disprove my latter assertion that their keeper just could not be beaten.
It was shaping up to be a very tight affair with neither defence giving much away and their midfielders reluctant to push forward. Shirley set the scene for what was amazingly not an eventual red card, he was booked early for a hard challenge within free kick range. He continued to dice with another card throughout the game with hilariously hypocritical complaints form the dirtiest in the opposition.
Bolts was then forced to make a good save as the Raiders put together one of their few attacks of the half. Jono quite proud of his clearance off the line, so I guess I have to mention it. I won’t mention his couple of completely duffed attempted clearances.
THE chance occurred not long after, a pass found Polly heading for the left corner of the goal box. He controlled it well and heard my first call of the season as I cut back across the box, a great return ball from Polly sat up perfectly for my right foot. I had all the time to place it just where I wanted it and was certain as I hit that I had done just that. Then out of nowhere came the outstretched arm of their keeper. That moment of disbelief can only compare to the abject disappointment of waking up Sunday morning next to a swamp donkey after thinking you had your game on the night before.
Alas we went into the half at nil all and we had it all to do. We had plenty of confidence due to some strong second half performances in the past, we though we still had them on the ropes. Fold was starting to bear the ill effects of the devils nectar, but was not the abusive drunk that one would expect from a dozen Bitters. Instead he went about not too subtlety moving in further on Wilsons territory, spending the entire team talk filming Dribble in close up with a cheshire grin, looking more and more like the mask with every passing minute.
The second half continued to be a very tight affair. The Raiders did start to dominate the territory with the wind at their backs. The marauders intensity never waivered but the chances never eventuated. The game being played firmly in our half meant that most of the chances fell to the feet of the Raiders. They won 3 or 4 free kicks within range, most being courtesy Shirleys hard tackling, as well as some soft calls from Pedro (who had an all round good game and without a doubt favoured us with most of the 50-50 calls).
Their first goal came from a break down our left hand side, a cross came in which was well finished by Davey. So sublime was the finishing that conspiracy theorists would later suggest that he gave the game away to ensure that he would not be the first losing captain. I am in the early stages of memory erase therapy so the details of this goal and the later part of the game are a bit iffy. The first stage is getting absolutely blotto afterwards, unfortunately I’ve set myself back 3 years by having to document the entire game in this report. I hope to erase more bad memory brain cells this weekend.
One half chance eventuated by way of a corner, Dribble swung his corner in to the back post for it to be well held by their keeper who went down in a moaning heap because something may have touched him. He proceeded to throw his toys out of the cot and the ball out of play whilst complaining. Pedro was having none of this and booked him for it. Pedro obviously plays the disciplinarian with Wilson playing the roll of the cool dad (Wilson about Pedro’s son post match “I’m like his second dad”).
Not long after an injustice occurred (HA, you like what I did there, injustice!). Justice found himself with the ball inside the 18 yard box, a good step inside gave him space to shoot, he did so with enough power and accuracy to beat a diving bolts. This strike fairly put the nail in the coffin. In spite of some hard work and never giving up the Marauders could not find any cohesion as we tried to chase the game. The only other real highlight was a well struck free kick from the raiders the nearly made it three against. 2-0 was embarrassing enough. The final whistle on the wrong end of a result an unfamiliar experience that we would do well to remember if we have an encore next year. The Marauders now have unfinished business.
With our first loss under our belts the attention now turned to serious business of getting plastered. The Drambuie was quickly whipped out of the kit bag for the drowning of sorrows, with every team member having a shot of the good stuff before hitting the changing rooms to don our Sunday Best. Most team members merrily partaking in the shenanigans, Matt was getting changed on the way to the pub…
Fold polished off the last of his Bitters and still hadn’t broken the camera, which truly is a great effort. With that we were off to the Awards ceremony. Heinekens served up all round as is befitting a Marauders booze up. A few words were said by tony who they handed out the silverware to the captains. The Marauders were awarded a couple of pretty cool Trophies that will be going straight to the pool room. We were also all given medals for our league victory and for being first losers in the cup. With medals in tow if was off to the cross for the evening to really get out of hand.
On arrival at the cross the boys were already at the bar organising the spending of the bar tab we had all drunk so hard to get (apologies Mark, check the constitution if you’re unhappy, I’m not sure this situation is covered). Five jugs adorned the table by the time we organised what no doubt will be an epic photo (someone attach it if you could).
The rest of the evening I have organised into graph form attached, using the international drunkenness rating system of “how hot is she out of ten”. Anyone that can elaborate on any of the details, please do. I tried to it into the article, but Gmail’s doing my head in. I’ve also attached a perfect sample of the sort of chick this rating system would relate to. I may be omnipresent on the field, but I make no assertions about my omniscient off it. So these are just some ideas that are 100% up for debate for some season wide awards.
Wag of the year – Mrs Dempster
Import of the year – Fold, who only just got citizenship last week, no doubt his Marauders membership weighing in his favour.
Super sub of the year - Probably Gordo, who has come off the bench to some effect on many occasions.
Shout of the year - All original Marauders who put up their hard earned vouchers on Sunday.
Sook of the year – Shirley just beats out Polly for this, the apparent thickness of his skull an optical illusion as he went in a heap and later to hospital.
Negotiator of the year – Mark for his superb negotiation in securing flights home for the final.
Spew of the year – Jono great effort off my balcony, honourable mention for my lame effort of basically dribbling on Folds carpet.
Drunken accident of the year – Smashing my ankle in what seemed an inevitable fashion in hindsight.
Quota of the year – …
Save of the year – Bolts a match winner against Arakura among his best.
Please share any other awards that you think worthy a mention. All should taken in the true banter tradition like water off a ducks back.
The Marauders Football Club