....before I get on with the posts that have been sitting around to be posted for a fortnight now.
I posted a couple of months ago about a company football game where one department (staffed with young, regular players - as well as a couple of girls) took on all the other departments (staffed with old, fat men) in a 90 minute try-not-to-have-a-heart-attack 'game' where us old people managed to lose 14-1.
Well last weekend I organised the rematch. They had the same team, whereas I cunningly drafted in a few decent guys to make it an even match. My organising was going swimmingly until five days before the game when our three best players all reported back injured from the weekend's games and pulled out.
I cajoled one player out of retirement and two people brought 'mates' along on the day. I've put mates in quotes because our goalkeeper turned up ten minutes before kick-off having not stopped drinking all night and had dragged along someone he'd met in the pub the previous night who 'fancied a game.'
All in all, a recipe for an absolute stuffing. Again.
And indeed, our goalkeeper lasted all of twenty seconds before trying to catch one of three balls he could see - completely missing it - and letting it dribble slowly and sadly into the net.
We managed to get to half-time only losing 3-0. I even hit the crossbar in our one decent chance.
Enter Super Squirrel Manager who changed the team round, put myself out on the left wing (as I was the only person in our team who could still run), reorganised the defence and gave a rousing speech along the lines of 'let's kick 'em a bit and see where it gets us'.
Within five minutes of the restart we'd pulled it back to 3-2, then let in a silly goal, then piled forward and got it back to 4-3. They started to panic and substituted off their only girl and replaced her with a six-foot-four-brick-shithouse of a player.
We pressed and pressed but just couldn't get an equaliser, and then two late goals on the break and an even later consolation for us made it 6-4.
Which I'm sure you'll agree is better than 14-1 :)
Here is actual proof of yours truly lining up a swift punt to the nuts of the player in blue. I even got part of the ball first.... :-P
P.S. My arms are incredibly pasty because I'm wearing a long-sleeved top with white sleeves, my left leg is pasty because I'm wearing a white elasticated bandage to stop my knee parting with a sad 'boing' noise, and my right leg is pasty because I'm very pasty.