The Perceys played really well in this game, a match that was overshadowed by a bad injury to the Pieman himself, Mark Faulkner. The Perceys had to start with Whisky Down in goal, because Andy was held up getting his hair done. The great big Ronaldo-wannabe girl. Pies and Terry started on the line, with the usual gang playing outfield.
The Perceys started quite well, and the first few minutes saw quite a few passing moves with no real end product. However, the first goal was not long in coming, and what a good goal it was. From a roll out from Whisky in the Percey goal, the ball was swept forward to Terry, who, after taking the ball around 3 defenders, looked certain to shoot (in fact, some of the Perceys players were almost screaming “Shoot! Shoot! Shoot, you silly bastard!”) but instead squared it across to Cole, who struck it well and scored the opener.
A few more chances followed not long after, most notably for Scales, who perhaps is feeling the pressure of being the Perceys joint-leading scorer, because it has to be said the he didn’t put his chances away as well as he has done in the past. Typically, though, the Bullets (who were another bunch of young lads who seemed to fancy themselves a bit. At least they didn’t wear yellow, though.) struck back through a good shot from distance that appeared to hit the left-hand post and bounce along the line. Veteran ref Lester Shapter saw it differently, and gave the goal as the incredulous Perceys trudged back to the centre. In fairness, I think most referees would have given it, but that doesn’t make it right. We won’t treat him too harshly, though, because he is getting on a bit now. (surprised he’s not playing for the Kamaroons.)
Not long before half-time, though, the Bullets scored a good second goal after one of their blokes turned well to score from some way out. The silly red-shirted gimp. 2-1 to Bovril Bullets at the break. Incidentally, what the hell is a Bovril Bullet? Bovril is a drink, how can you get a bullet out of that, eh? Moving on…
It was the Perceys who started the second half the better, and it was not too long before the equaliser came along, like a great big Edward Woodward impersonator. Possibly. Yet more good work from Terry (who is surely the favourite for the Percey’s Player of the Year Award, even at this early stage. Of course, he might not actually turn up to pick up the award.) meant that he was able to push the ball across to Whisky, who had no trouble in slotting the ball home, scotching rumours that he’s lost his scoring touch. It was actually a spirited display from JD tonight..*wince* Very shortly afterwards, a flowing move started by Ballo resulting in the scientist finding himself with acres of space and a nosebleed, his careless running having taken him into the opposition half. It’s possible the excitement caused all the blood to rush to his head, because he took a wild swing at it when the pass to Cocksy would’ve been a better bet.
This was the stage in the match in which one of the Bullets, a little git in white boots, (who had been diving, yes diving! all evening) decided to try it on with Badders. A slight altercation in the corner, which resulted in a Bullets roll-in (when it was clearly Perceys ball!) was followed by a minor indiscretion on the part of Mr. Badcott…Shapter pointed to the spot, even though it was hardly a penalty-able offence. (wow, managed to verbalise ‘penalty’.) This was duly despatched to make it 2-3.
This is the part of the report where it gets a little…painful. Mark Faulkner, one of the original Perceys, was following a ball into the corner when a collision with the Bovril player made him lose his balance. Pies/Twiggy fell, like a giant sequoia who’s played Chainsaw once too often, and the not-insignificant frame of MF hit the deck. It was obvious from his cries of pain that Faulks wasn’t going to be getting up in too much of a hurry, and the game was stopped as an ambulance was called. As the players gathered round in the cold, the leg was covered up in some jackets. Handily, though, the considerable momentum of his fall had taken him off the pitch, so the match could continue..(which is, after all, the most important thing.)
The game restarted, and I’m told that Danny Murray scored an excellent goal…however, my view of it was not the best; I saw the go into the net from a height of 4 inches. (I was looking for Twiggy’s bag behind the goal.)
This lead must have lasted for about 104 seconds, though, because one of the trickier red-shirted lads were able to weave his way around the static defence and strike a low hard shot for 4-3. A Percey’s fightback was in order, then, and there was one…shot after shot rained down on the Bullet’s goal, but most of them went wide of the target. Percey’s profligacy in front of goal was their main undoing tonight, in fact. Oh, one more thing…I must mention Ballo’s great dummy that made the Bullet’s striker look a complete idiot, whilst giving Alex Head (who had another great game) hours of time to pass the ball. Well, anyway..I thought it was great.
In summary: A good performance. All we need is to be a little more clinical in our finishing. I consider this points dropped that we should’ve won.
Faulks Update: Apparently leg isn’t fractured, probably a hairline thing. Clare went with him to the hospital. (thus proving that she hasn’t known him long enough….Faulks in one of those backless things, eesh.) If this is one of those underhand TGFC tactics that I’ve heard about, I’m really scared.
Team: Down; Badcott; Head; Ballard; Cocks; Cole; Scales: Started on the side: Murray; Started in the girlie hairdressers but then came late and went in goal: Kingdon: Started on the side, finished in the ambulance: Faulkner