On previous visits to Sonning Lane, we’ve been treated to:
- Alex B-M getting so totally lost that she parked in a field and ran the rest of the way
- Someone (Lucy?) crashing into the occupied men’s changing rooms
- Zelda neglecting to inform a member of our squad that she’d been selected then wondering why said teammate wasn’t present (note: she never played for us again)
- Mel turning up sans balls
- A pigeon lightening its load directly into Tri’s ear
- Some actual hockey – our 4-3 victory when they were in Prem being the highlight.
But this time? Nothing. Everyone arrived on time(ish). No-one left their kit at home. Ellen wouldn’t even wear the stunning protective nose mask we bought for her, for light relief. So here are some haiku:
Whistle! The game starts.
They score, reverse, tight angle:
They score again, damn.
Corner. Average dragflick -
Some poor goalkeeping.
Half time: Jelly snakes!!!!!
Omar: not happy. Deserved.
Two goal gap: nothing!
Then, we score! Game on.
Short corner, Abbie sweeps home –
Can we turn it round?
No. Reading score again.
3-1, deflected corner,
Hang on though! We score!
Tri, prone, stick as snooker cue
Prods ball over line*.
Whistle! The game ends.
Another valiant loss;
Bring on Saturday.
- 4.30 pushbacks should be outlawed
- Sandra waltzed off to Amsterdam having left her bag of dirty kit in the changing room for Michelle to deal with – this will be remembered.
- Tri’s taking us all on holiday with her accumulator winnings
- Stubbsy smelled great (source: Stubbsy)
MOM: Sophie, for another superlative performance (her attempt to score a second own goal excepted)
DOTD: Sophie, for swearing at the ball patrol (which may or may not have happened)
*I know, I know, it’s grammatically clumsy, whatcha gonna do