Sunday, July 25, 2010

Round 13, v Watsonia Heights, home

To the rest of the nation Sunday was the day we’d finally get to see who’d win MasterChef and thus avoid the runner-up’s ultimate ignominy of being glazed in duck fat and eaten by Matt “Sticky Fingers” Preston. (Of course Sunday was also the day Julia Gillard would debate Tony Abbott on TV but such is their collective talent for empty sloganeering that if there was something more compelling on another channel —like static, The World Browneye Championships or Bondi Accountant— who’d bother watching?)

For us Bras, of course, there was much to do before then. Prior to the match, for instance, we had to have our team photograph taken — and it’s tough looking your best before 10am on a Sunday, that’s for sure. (Personally speaking, it’s also tough looking your best after midday, too, which doesn’t leave a lot of time for posing for half decent snapshots.) But the real business of the day was to erase the memory of a very disappointing Round 4 loss to Watsonia Heights. In the annals of Ones That Got Away that game is highly ranked so I was determined to —how would the Prime Minister put it?— Move the Zebras Forward.

Twenty minutes into the match, though the score was still 0-0, things were looking promising —for everyone but KP, that is. She was stuck on the bench unable to take the field until she managed to remove her ear stud, something that would require the purchasing of pliers from Kmart and a certain amount of brute force. On the field, however, we were indeed moving forward whilst simultaneously turning Watsonia’s boats back. Our fullbacks had barely been troubled while up front, ably assisted by Timmy, Jo, Jess and Sue, Rhi and Emily were running riot. Though we had spurned four great chances, not including a missed penalty, it just seemed a matter of time until the deadlock was broken. And so it proved, much to our relief. Just before the 25th minute Emily —though still struggling a little with a bulging disc in her back— turned the Watsonia fullbacks inside out before laying the ball across to Rhi who found the net.

Oddly, as we celebrated our goal I began to hear a whining noise that would end up lasting for the duration of the match. Naturally enough I first suspected low flying aircraft taking an alternate route to Tullamarine, but the warm blue skies above Sumner Park were free of aircraft. I then wondered if one of the many dogs milling about the sidelines was grizling about being tied up on such a pleasant day —but the gathered canines seemed more focused on the sun stroking their flanks than the leads around their necks. But five minutes later, after Emily bamboozled the defence with her quick-stepping before shooting home smartly, I finally worked out what the noise was. It was the opposition coach. Instead of thanking his lucky stars his team was only behind by two goals instead of six or seven he was vocally questioning the referee at every turn —as if only the ref’s decision-making was responsible for the score— and he shrouded himself in the heavy dark cloak of the aggrieved for the duration. It was thus even more satisfying when we scored a third before the break.

With KP finally reefing out her nose stud and joining the action for the second half we soon re-established our domination. There was a moment of concern when we conceded a soft goal from a corner to give them a sniff at 3-1 but we didn’t even look like getting the wobbles and by the 65th minute mark Rhi and Em both had hat tricks, the result of us dominating in midfield. Twenty-five minutes later Em had added another two to bring the final score to 8-1.

But just when I was thinking the ghosts of Round 4 had well and truly been put to rest I was summoned to the referee’s room. It didn’t sound good and it wasn’t. Seems someone (well, okay, me) had forgotten to write Helen’s name on the team sheet. The ref said he had no choice but to inform the FFV of this oversight and as I write we can only hope the FFV uses its discretion and doesn’t punish us unduly for this clerical error.

How did it happen anyway? Well, Helen had been ill with glandular fever and hadn’t intended to play so I never wrote her name and registration number on the team sheet prior to the game. But Helen turned up to watch in any case and, what’s more, did so in full uniform (shirt, shorts, boots, shin pads and all) because that’s what she’d worn for the team photograph prior to the game. Anyway, with 10 minutes remaining in the match she said she was feeling okay and would like to play the final moments of the match. You sure? I said, thinking of her health rather than the fact I hadn’t entered her details on the team sheet.

“Sure,” she said, “What harm could it do?”

Let’s hope not much at all.

[Result: 8-1 win. Goals: Emily 5, Rhi 3]

NEXT MATCH: Sunday August 1, v Fitzroy City, Fairfield Park, Fairfield, 11am

STOP PRESS: Another reminder: As part of the Talks on Moreland series, I will be chatting about The Mighty Bras at Brunswick Library on Thursday, August 5 at 7.30pm. It’s free. Bookings: 93898600.

1 comment:

  1. Condolences to Rhi on losing the Em vs Rhi goal scoring competition this week. Obviously the blame here lies with Paul, who callously took Rhi off the field for the last ten minutes whilst Em swanned about scoring the extra goals needed to beat Rhi 5-3. Rhi has reiterated that she will 'take Em out' at the next match....though possibly that's just 'for a beer'.

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