Round 10, v Brunswick City, home

They say cricket is a funny ol’ game, and they’re right, of course. But if cricket is funny, then soccer is, at times, hilarious. Though, as we proved on Sunday, not always in a way that’ll make you laugh.

The first time we played Brunswick City this season we were soundly beaten and lost 8-1. While City looked very strong and sharp, particularly for the first match of the season, we were rusty, clumsy and reaching desperately for Ventilin long before halftime — even those of us who don’t have asthma. Our only real meaningful passage of play ended in a goal for Kate. Outside of that the only time we managed to string together a couple of passes was at the pub after the game: we efficiently passed the beer glasses down one side of the table, and the jug of Coopers was passed around the other.

On Sunday, however, we probably enjoyed about 45% of possession and at times played some lovely football, particularly down the right wing. One move involved five first-touch passes (KP to Kate to Sue to Rhi to Bridge to Em) and ended with a shot from Em that narrowly sailed wide. Had it gone in we would have framed and mounted that goal and hung it in the clubhouse for future generations to admire.

But here’s the “hilarious” thing about Sunday’s game: we lost 8-0, a larger margin than in Round 1. I know, it doesn’t make sense, and I spent a restless Sunday night unsuccessfully trying to get my head around it. Even when Abbie crawled into bed beside me in the early hours of Monday morning I was still thinking about it. ‘Don’t worry, Daddy,’ she said, noticing my furrowed brow, ‘it’s just a game. Now where’s that cuddle?’

In saying that, there is no doubt we were beaten by a better side, and City have now played 10 games without dropping any points, They’ve scored twice as many goals as the next highest scoring team (us!) and conceded the least number of goals. Clearly, they are a class above the rest of the field.

But while the scoreline wouldn’t indicate it our 8-0 loss on Sunday felt nothing like our 8-1 loss a few months ago. We were much more competitive —so much so that we hit the crossbar (a long range pearler from Em) and forced the City keeper into making at least seven reasonable saves. By comparison I’d say City had about 12 shots on goal. In a nutshell, they had one of those days and we had one of those days. If only Bridge had remembered to bring her vuvuzela to the game. Maybe things would have been different.

But there were some positives on Sunday, not least the return to action of Jess and Jane. Until Sunday Jess hadn’t played since injuring her planter fascia against City in Round 1. Finally free of the moon boot and with a few training sessions under her belt she hit the park for a pleasing and very competent cameo and was the happier for it. And when Jess is happy, we’re happy.

Jane, of course, played her first game of the year, for it was only six minutes ago she gave birth to her second daughter, Greta. (It’s actually six weeks but the more time passes the closer the time period seems. Give it a few months and we’ll be talking about Jane giving birth on the sideline then resuming her place on the pitch.)

Though she’s only had two training sessions since, GI Jane hardly missed a beat. There was one scary moment where she hit the deck after a hefty collision and I couldn’t help but lament, “There goes her uterus!” and I readied the subs Jess and Merissa to help me search for it. But Jane, still intact, picked herself up and gamely re-entered the fray. It’s wonderful to have her back and she’ll only improve the team with every match she plays.

Finally, despite the carnage, we did at least maintain our sense of humour. With 10 minutes to go, when we were down 8-0, Deb’s voice rang out. 'C’mon Bras,' she said,'seven quick goals and we’re right back in it!'

Funny? Hilarious.

[Result: 8-0 loss.]

NEXT WEEK: July 11, v Mitchell Rangers, Broadford Secondary College, Broadford, 12.30pm