Not just an ordinary festive fixture but a DSPAFC festive fixture

This was no ordinary game; it was a succulent, robust, mouth-watering, even tantalisingly mouthwatering D and S AFC football game. Christmas came early for those who braved the winter chill, where the frost was deep and crisp and even, much like the style of play on this memorable eve. The Advent calendars of the players popped open and amazed all. What a feast of football.

The pack of hardy red-nosed stalwarts arrived in their usual casual manner and yet we did field a strong 4v4. They were layered up to the hilt and there was even talk of some wearing the thermals!!!! There were hats, scarves, multiple socks, far-from subtle knitwear was unpacked and well-packed with rippling six-packs; basically it appeared that Christmas had indeed come early. Gilesinho took hold of the situation early doors and called for an Engerland IVs the Rest of the World/DSPAFC selection/wishlist. The overseas representatives bibbed up and took on the 3 Lions. No need for an interpreter here, make no mistake, the only language spoken was the language of football at its most advanced level. The bonding was instantaneous. It was On.

The RotW4 took advantage in the opening minutes, their energy levels being higher - they had obviously planned to unsettle the lions by converting the cold air into hand-warming shots from every point of the compass: the flair was there alright.But they soon became complacent, losing themselves in overindulgent runs, elaborate passing, discarded packaging and generally pissing about. However they were always a threat. Mainly to themselves. Conngiggskï, suffering with a bad dose of man flu, spent most of his time in the back of the 3-1 formation as they battled against the ever-changing Lions shape - sometimes a flat 4 and other times a diamond with a hint of a star on the horizon, leading them to glory or a close one anyway.

It was as ever a tight end with the lions making up for indiscretions early on and moving on the tricky surface like Torvill and Dean in Helsinki, or wherever. Wolfkaiser, however, took on all around him, and as ever his stockings were near to bursting with his gifted legs (what a gift for any team!). But his stuffed stockings were his downfall in missing an open goal, the selection box of an opportunity went a begging as he tried to remote control the ball into the net (watch out next time: batteries not inclued). Again the World 4 went for crowd pleasing above getting results: "appearance over substance" (Anon.). Tis a time for giving and all that but it was soon a case of Pantomime season on the half hour mark. Waddolucci had a jolly time ‘tween the sticks, thwarting multiple opportunities that the world had to sew up the last game of the season. High Ball, "Oh no it wasn’t"; "Backdoor" was replaced with a comical "He’s behind you!". "Never mind the gala dinner, this is a feast in itself", quipped Waddolucci as he skipped down the wing like an elf nipping off down the Lapland Arms while the gaffer slumbered in front of a bumper edition of Opportunity Knocks. It was Heston's perfect Christmas! Nigella's trip down to the festive fridge for a midnight feast. Mmmmmm! Oh the banter was at a new high. No need to take the elastic band off the minitature scroll containing a festive joke or limerick here to have a chuckle. No it was all laid on. "Oh no it wasn't!". Ho ho ho (that's enough now - Ed.)

Goals were too many to mention, to paraphrase the great Mick Hucknell, but Garrattino had a particularly cheeky Eggnog back-heel into the onion sack which will be remembered for all the right reasons. Oh yes it was a peach.

Waddolucci has cancelled his application for his allotment on the flanks after receiving multiple beautifully weighted passes in the open areas and has decided to go the DIY route. He scored a beauty early on but anyone who was there to witness the festive match this evening, saw what could have been THE goal of the season. He took the ball on the move, controlled and let fly with his trusted boot. It was blinding, it was curling, and it had a new home in the top right corner. But it was brushed on to the post and away for a corner by Conngiggskï’s reflex save. All present, including pitch no. 2, fell into a stunned silence, the squirrels glanced from the frosted ground, dropping their nuts, a crow stopped mid flight and fell into the centre circle. Swimmers in the nearby sports centre missed a stroke. It would have, it should have but it wasn’t to be.

On an evening which lived up to its billing on Radio 5 where Coweysqatsi was guest commentator, there were souffle-assisted volleys, intricate diagonal icing on the cake interplay (followed by finishes worthy of a drunken relative who's been sucking the cherry brandy bottle dry while "we're walking in the air" splurges out of the goggle box), plum puddings dispatched into the side netting and slices of cake that went down very well with the home crowd.

It was quite a game with little afters, much like the Gala Dinner, more of which later, or rather now.

The Gala Dinner was also a great success; the players quickly donned their festive football suits and headed to the pavilion. Drinks flowed, well much like any other Monday. The Superfoods were ordered and we had a fine old time. Apart from Wolfkaiser. The backroom nutritionist didn’t agree with his request and so had to wait 40 minutes to get a foodstuff he did not want. But his body is a temple. El Darrylinho, Roperaroo along with Campellese joined the carb-fest, despite having been on the treatment table all week, and regaled all those present with tales of their xmas shopping. What an auspicious sign glimmering in the sky it was that after all the transfers, possible moves abroad, a couple on Bosmans, others on buy-out clauses, that we could all sit down and discuss the season that had been so far, the festive season and the post-seasonal left-overs. Not a turkey in sight but trimmings, baubles and silverware all the way.

Gala Dinner and Awards Ceremony 2007

Dynamo Staropremium AFC Gala Dinner 2007

If the list of squad members reads like a who’s who of extraordinary footballing talent that’s because it is a list of extraordinary footballing talent extracted directly from the top drawer. The gala award ceremony is upon us! And the sticker goes to.....?


King Sunny-Ade Aderonskï
Freser Al-Kinghali
Michelangelo Campellese
Constantin Conngiggskï
Christiano Coweyscatsi
Marcus Garrattino
Gilberto Gilesinho
Gianluca Gizzabaldi
El Darrylinho
Jay-Jay Lohmann
Gianluigi di Parma
Adriano Roperaroo
Kirin Da Silva-Fox
Jean-Michel Turnbulletin
Michelangelo Waddolucci
Wolfgang Wolfkaiser

The ultimate of penultimates

The penultimate game of this long and hard-fought season was a scorcher. It was in the depths of winter but only the onlookers could have sensed any chill. What a night of football we encountered and all could gauge how far we had come. (Well the football correspondent drove from Saffron Waldon but that’s another matter, he’s had worse, East Norfolk comes to mind.) As they entered the players’ carpark the adrenaline was palpable, or tangible, or both, or was it just the output from the exhaust pipes of the array of Dulwich Tractors and Bentley Continentals? Waddolucci set out his stall early doors with a one touch reverse into bay no. 2 while Gizzabaldi – who still insists on driving a second hand saloon despite his rumoured 32 shillings a week contract – opted for a five touch manoeuvre which was, frankly Mr Shankly, a bit of a balls up. The three eager pros, Waddolucci, Wolfkaiser and Darrylinho looked encouragingly keen.
Yes please, bring on 8pm.

As they bibbed up and did the odd 23ft sprint the spirits were high, talk of last week’s encounter with pitch No2 was on the agenda together with the choice of sweet at the Gala Dinner next week. Not to mention dress code and sticker allocation.
They had the by now familiar and healthy 4v5 and it was ON. All cautiously welcomed back Wolfkaiser from his ill-fated but highly publicised move to the Darkside, last week. He had a lot of making up to do. The crowd gave him a muted reception. But he showed his true non-high-visibility colours later on. He knew on which side his bread was buttered. You can’t buy class, you live it and express it where it counts – on the pitch.

The game had a fluidity which we had rarely seen in recent weeks, crisp passes, movement off the ball and a little afters to boot. Oh it was dreamlike at times. The 4 took an early lead, then it was even, then again the lead then level and so on. You the readers know how it works. It ended with a thrilling 12-10, I think. But one could easily call it a draw. Let’s do that! (hey hold on a minute you can’t play God – Ed.)

There was a new found determination amongst some of the crew. Namely Conngiggskï and Aderonskï, who both have felt the influence of Da Silva Fox and Pitch No2 in recent weeks. They went for everything, even lost causes. By the way, in post-match discussion with Conngiggski, he announced himself “flabbergasted” by his lunging sliding goal on the D being disallowed, having only heard of it at the post match. "Bastards" (Anon.).

As mentioned Wolfkaiser won back some of the crowd with his extendable and retractable interceptor-legs as they stopped everything that attempted to bypass them. He doesn't have a Mystic Force Power Ranger named after him for nothing. Aderonskï scored a triple and a half brace (estimate) and was a predator from even a full 43 yards. The five looked at times to be unsure what to do with the extra man. Waddolucci, who in recent times has threatened to build an allotment on the right flank, with the space available, has now got planning permission for three four story apartments on the field of dreams. The service was not there. A “flankless task” one pavilion punter stated.

The injury, or alleged injury, to the returning to form Darrylinho saw him between the sticks for a full 75mins. He was the new protector. The Terminator. The gladiator of the 4. He was the lynchpin in a side intent on seizing the crumbs of a draw from the jaws of the DSPAFC yuletide bird table and fake snow dispenser victory in the making. The 4 were under the sleigh for the final 10mins - it was reminiscent of a works Paintball Day out, with the MD getting pelted from left, right and centre. Our Master of Defence was bruised all over but his pride stayed intact. What a find, what a Jewel in the crown, what a diamond in the rough diamond formation. The names Neville and Southall were invoked, in that order. Nuff said. More please.

DSPAFC stalwarts Garrattino, Lohmann and Al-Kinghali and Waddolucci (the latter like his near namesake, Waddle, in the 1989 FA cup fourth round cup tie shamefully underused, as previously mentioned) all swept forward and sideways together like a Bobby Charlton comb-over, and pounced on the leave-takings of Darrylinho to send the home side’s goal tally into double figures. “Dizzy, I’m so Dizzy” sang the home crowd.

The post match was an interesting one. Only a 5 strong squad, but strong we were. Conversation turned to global warming, Bryan Robson making Merson and Gazza roomies in their Boro days and Paul McGrath having a bodyguard to prevent him from the sauce from Thursday to Saturday, which practice Gizzabaldi immediately adopted by getting rid of any open bottles when we got back to the lodgings.

The pundits analysed the Crown and Greyhound menu and singled out the new signings in the starters and some old favourites in the mains. They had Peacock's Three As: Advancement, Awareness and Ability. The Gala evening approaches: Pasta, Protein, Carbs, horseradish mayo, maris piper chips and alioi, all the trimmings, and plenty of liquids. Nod off with a warm sherry in front of Gabby's speech on MotD3?
Lovely.

The fourth official writes: “On examination of the video evidence and putting at our disposal the latest technology from NASA we are able to reverse the disallowed goal by Conngiggskï, making the end result 10-9. Moreover the controversial decision by referee Jorge Satantango to award a penalty for the handling outside the D by the away team goalkeeper is now adjudged to have been an error. The rebound scored by Gizzabaldi is hereby disallowed, which gives the result of 9-9, making it, as I understand it is known, another classic.”

With his goal reinstated Conngiggskï’s tally rose to a hat-trick and 1/3. For this and his mazy runs (often cleverly disguised as jogs), shots from all angles, and 4 shots off the woodwork he was, by unanimous decision, the official Marmite PotM (sticker). The United keeper lived up to the “Brave Darrylinho” moniker he earned last season with a performance straight out of the top drawer and he is duly awarded a Southall (sticker and hairband). Aderonskï was on a different planet, defying several laws of physics and totted up a goal tally which even the Arena statisticians could not keep track of. We’ll have to dig deep to find a sticker to cover such a performance.

Word on the tabloid street is that DSPAFC are to appeal both of the decisions made by the video referee (the peerless Jorge Satantango will have something to say about it too), while Colours of Benetton Utd, as a result if the overruling by video evidence, now find themselves even on points and on goal difference at the top of the table (as befits two teams often confused with one another). What a situation to be in going in to the last match before the Christmas break.

Like a hungover relative faced with a large festive tin of Quality Street, the pundits will be poring over the contents list to find the good ones, but unlike a large festive tin of Quality Street it’s unlikely they’ll want to discard anything from next week’s selection-box-Christmas-cracker-with-cranberry-sauce-in-the-wide-areas (pending planning permission) yuletide jamboree of festive footballing excellence.

Pastures new on pitch number 2

It was brave, it was daunting, it was challenging but it was a thrilling evening for the chaps of DSPAFC. They came kitted out, with their usual keenness for the Monday night encounter, but what was ahead of them was a whole new ball game. A game of many halves, of many challenges and the learning curve was steep beyond belief. It was vertical. Alton Towers has nothing compared to the thrill of the velocity of not only determination but pride in the badge which these sportsmen underwent this night. It was MAC 4.

It began as per normal, straggling onto the field of many dreams with a mere 4 arriving before the 8.15 watershed. We were approached by an agent. “Are you short tonight? Do you want to play with us?”. It brought back many memories of my far distant past. “No you can’t go out to play” muttered the DSPAFC Superego. We came together in a Chelsea-like Mourinho-influenced huddle and eventually agreed to go to pastures new, Pitch No. 2.

We had, eventually, a strong 8, Vs their 5. It was ON.
It was obvious even before the off, the numbers did not stack up. We had to do some tactical readjustments. Initially Woolard-Aderonski offered himself up for a cameo role with the High-Visibility United opponents, but to the amazement of all, the Wolf, the protector of the Holy Grail of the Three-posted Nirvana, offered not only his skills, his soul but also potentially his new 13yr contract to the enemy. He looked good it must be said, in the High Vis home strip, but it sent shudders down the spines and back up the toned abs of the Dynamos. Tickly!

It was a great start, with the home side taking an early lead through the almost birthday boy, Gizzabaldi. The strike of a man with no celebration in mind but that of the greater good of his team. A glorious start, followed by a sweeping move which saw the visitors into a 2 goal lead via an expertly converted chance by Gilesinho. They were playing the home side off the park.

And that was it, in regards to goals for a long spell. The rivals rallied however and should have been 5-2 up within 25mins was it not for the heroics of Conngiggskï (no editorial influence here, but let’s be fair) and the star keeper of the night Garrattino. The Cat! Dino Zoff in his pomp! Mervyn Day (on a good day)!

Aderonskï was a Tony Adams in disguise this night. Directing, Shouting, and pointing (even swearing). He was a colossus in the dream team. His knowledge and control from the back were paying dividends. We were, it must be said, looking good. Crisp, fluent and moving. Tempo tempo tempo! But the end product was not quite there. Gilesinho was looking like a young Lee Sharpe (before his Love Island, Hair Transplant endorsing time, but at his peak as a Coke-snorting, raving, highly tuned, wonderfully coiffed footballer straight out of the top drawer). He was on fire. We were playing for our badge with pride.

The vertical tuition spiralled to a desperate level, when we reached rock bottom. Trailing 5-2 within a mere ten minutes left on the clock. The doom we envisaged was further enhanced by Wolfkaiser’s showboating on the edge of the D with step-overs and involutes worthy of Little Littbarski in his pomp, and multiple goal scoring. He was loving his new challenge and boy will he live to regret it at the Xmas Players’ Dinner and Dancing soirée. “He seemed a little too familiar to his new team-mates “(Anon). Everything went through the new signing from Bayern. “Give it to Wolf, Wolf is Free, where is Wolf???”

Let’s await the movements during the January window. All could become clear.
The home side on the night were competent, let’s not dispute this factor, but the David Beckham, mohawlk fella was a “one trick pony” (Anon) with no fewer that 32 sideways-backheels performed on the night.

As the floodlights headed toward shutdown the DSPAFC 6 summoned everything they had for one last effort. Surging forward like the Stoke City team of 1974 they carved open the HiVis Utd back 4 like squirrels tucking into their store of nuts and berries. Al Kinghali ghosted in for a sidefooter. 5-3. Then a sweeping counter-attack straight out of the Ardiles-Villa handbook circa 1977. Garrattino, the Schmeichel-like wonderboy, to Conngiggskï who has cut down on the shimmies and stepovers tonight sensing what is at stake, to Coweyscatsi (unlucky earlier with his trademark 25-yarder onto the post), looking confident on the ball now, deftly past the Mohawk, to Gilesinho who looks up, come on lads he seems to be saying, feel your badge branding your chest like that one mince pie too many at the office party, and who was there: Al-Kinghali to receive the ball and he pirouettes the ball off to Gizzabaldi who zigs down the line, forgetting to zag, oh but he seems to know what he’s doing, there’s the cross to the rampaging Aderonskï who enterprisingly hits it first time like a hot toddy down the hatch. Oh it’s too hot to handle for Mohawk and it’s there. 5-4. Again the DSPAFC heroes surged forward. A disputed foul on the edge of D with who else but Gizzabaldi tumbling and looking to referee Jorge Satantango. The fourth official has been controversially emailed via the ref’s Blackberry. Time seems to stand still. He points for the free kick, Gizzabaldi dummies it right to Garrattino. He's just over with a side-footer due to the inferior replacement ball which the home side had introduced. The final whistle sounds at the Arena and it's all over bar the punditry. They'll be debating that ball-replacement for some time to come.

There was much to relish back at the pavilion - and it wasn't just the seasonal spread laid on by Coweyscatsi - where the Marmite PotM award went by unanimous (sshhome misshhtake sshhurely) decision to both A. Woolard-Aderonski (sticker) and W. Wolfkaiser (sticker withheld until after the January window). An extra PotM award went to the whole DSPAFC team (stickers), with the David James award for flamboyant goalkeeping going to M. Garrattino.

Lost: last week's winning goal

Do you know who scored the winning goal last week?

Do you know someone who does?

Return the winning goal to its rightful owner!

Revolving doors at the Arena as DSPAFC meet themselves on the way back

Football, it is often said, is like that. What exactly the that is is a matter of debate. But one thing is for sure: anyone lucky enough to have witnessed this classic encounter at the DSPAFC Arena is likely to have gone away knowing just a little more about the ‘that’ of “that’s football”. 30 seconds into the match, three touches sent the ball to Waddolucci who hit the size 5 first time to be cruelly denied by the upright. The counter attack saw the visitors stretch to a 3-1 lead with emphatic finishes about which the keeper could do little, three goals going in without time to kick off between them. But it is a funny old game, isn’t it. Complacency set in and the home side were soon on level terms, squeezing into a 5-4 lead with 10 minutes left on the clock. “Barbara Woodhouse” called out Coweyscatsi. And he didn’t mean “walkies” (mind you he wouldn’t have needed to encourage his defenders to indulge in the latter). Hold onto their lead they did, with valiant goal-line clearances by the superfly keeper. Stirring stuff indeed. The match was levelled with Gizzabaldi’s fluke nutmeg (very seasonal) through Waddolucci’s legs, Garrattino hit a cracker (again very seasonal) for 5-6 and A.N. Other (see next post) sealed victory. There were a few contenders for a new award, the Scott Carson sticker and chewing gum for services to fumbled saves, but the blushes of W. Wolfkaiser were spared as Waddolucci contributed a trio of ‘Carsons’ to Wolfkaiser’s mere one ‘Robinson’. Pipped at the post. Roperaroo had a mixed night, solid tackling and strong positional sense paying off with a goal. He competed with Gizzabaldi for miss of the night however, both open goals proving too narrow for their open minds. The chances to goals conversion rate of Al-Kinghali and Gilesinho was a matter of debate, the matter and the debate going somewhere but via a circuitous route. Campallese was a stalwart in defence, midfield, attack, wings, in the holding role and in the bit that no-one has a name for, Coweyscatsi curled one round the wall from 30 yards but hit the post, and Wolfkaiser was inspired in his one-twos at the edge of the area. Referee Jorge Satantango had a tough match with several tackles straight out of Robbie Savage’s scrapbook and several controversial high ball decisions that no doubt had the pundits divided in the pavilion. The home side can take a lot of pluses out of this match – it’s just a matter of finding them first. A time for reflection this week: check your pockets, they might be there. DSPAFC have a lot to do if they are to revive their hopes of European football next season.



Constantin Conngiggski is away

Da Silva lining to a dirty evening….

Well readers, I have a report to match any of the past post-match entries, I hope.
It was a filthy, dirty, wet, thundering with rain, miserable night, but who gives a SHITE. It was a Monday so we dared to go where few would have even contemplated, onto the field of dreams in a Monsoon Monday Extravaganza. What a show of camaraderie and dedication. It was a little worrying on the way through the tunnel, but lo and behold, the Sunderland Legend was there and It Was On. No sooner had we entered the arena when we saw fellow worshippers of the sphere, it was pissin’ it down but it bounced off these toned-torsoed athletes as they swaggered onto the turf of opportunity: we were united against the elements.

Again the injury-hit DSPAFC (this time playing under the banner of a Rest of the World IV) showed little weakness in the standard of play, merely in the number playing. It was a “so last century” 4 v 5 tonight with a bibless look. As mentioned in previous articles, the bib situation is always an area for discussion and debate, so I am a little limited here. Just to say there were none. ‘nough said.

We welcomed with open arms a possible transfer opportunity in Jan 2008, K. Da Silva-Fox. He had flown in, with no expense spared, via Ryanair, for the event. Boy was he eager. He had the drive and gusto of the level we have almost become accustomed to. He was charming in the introductions but that is where it ended. The only charming he did after that was his caressing of the match ball. What a find!!!!!

The night was looking like a dull prospect, with the chaps from pitch no.3 askin’ for a contest. Der Kaiser, politely, telling them that the level of play would be beyond even their dreams. So we got on with it, old stylee. The Irish trio, UCC (Re)United for one night only, along with adoptive sons Aderonskï and Al-Kinghali looked on for a solid win, but as ever it was an even contest, with little to spare as goals were exchanged in a end to end topsy-turvy whirlpool of swirling side-footers, punishing pile-drivers and cheeky chips. 7-8 to UCC (Re)United with minutes remaining on the clock. Take it into the corners, watch your house, touch-tight: all the standard advice was spurned by UCC as they continued to play from the back. This Croatian approach did not seem suited to the astroturf surface on the night.

Nonetheless it looked like Da Silva-Fox as the find of the transfer window with 2 wonder strikes, both from outside the area. He made space, he was composed and took both with the accuracy one would expect from a seasoned pro. First the left then the right. On both occasions he showed his trademark, showboating, inside-out shimmy. How the crowd cheered! The first deservedly being rewarded the Marmite Goal of the Night. (stickers to be sent, Airmail). Enjoy Da Silva.

Gizzabaldi surprised all, by what is thought to be the first headed attempt at goal for a good 9 months and was also to play a major part in giving the first and second ever fouls of the league. (we will lose points in the Fair Play League, but fair play to honesty). This was marred by the tetchy approach of the whites. High ball calls, claims of seeing daylight, when we were in a downpour at 8.46pm in November, were seen by one newcomer as being "a bit Smokey Joe”..??????
The Bovril PotMA, by unanimous decision, went to Coweyscatsi. On an Alamo of a night, one could say, he was as impervious to shots on goal as his locks were to the precipitation. What a star!!!!

Garrattino and Gilesinho both had stylish finishes for DSPAFC/Restotheworld IV as befitted their attire and faultless coiffure – despite the downpour. Der Kaiser was off his sickbed but you would not think this was a player who but 2 hours previous had had his feet in a hot basin of water, a thermometer in his gob and a lemsip in his hand. What a Lazarus. A wooly cap and he was off. Aderonski threaded the ball left, right and centre and kept the home keeper on his onions all night.

The squandering of goal opportunities during the night will be left for another date, many of the battlers are reeling from missed opportunities which have no doubt caused sleepless nights since. As the rain set in on the already well established rain and the floodlights sparked a set piece by DSPAFC were awarded a corner converted as Gizzabaldi put his gloves back on. 8-all. Alamo central for the visitors reduced to 4 men as Al-Kinghali took an early bath on his bicycle. Hamstrings strummed their pain with their fingers, but with one voice they sung their life with their song and surged forward. Cruelly denied. The counter...9-8. Was it over. It’s not over till they’ve sung your life with their song and strummed your pain with their fingers, Twang went the veteran’s ligament. Unflinching he played on. Twong went Gizzabaldi’s hamstring. Telling their whole life with its words the advantage was converted into 10-8 victory for DSPAFC/restotheworld IV when Da Silva proved that experience is no barrier to folly as he strummed further pain into his knee with the fingers of an abandoned wonder-strike. The hobbling Academicals threw in the towel. A sodden bunch they hobbled their way to the tunnel much like Mclaren’s spoiled crop of soggy turnips did two nights later.

Post-match pavilion talk centred mainly on the new signing, as he and Coweyscatsi conducted themselves like a pair of long lost boot cleaning trainees. Oh how they reminisced about the old days of Sunderland. Da Silva-Fox recounted how as a 16 year old marking former Newcastle legend Jackie Milburn (then of Linfield) out of the game all the first half of his own Irish league debut, only for the veteran to go on to score 4 in the second half (the manager told me not to follow him when he drifted in the second Da Silva-Fox reminisced).

Warming to his topic, Da Silva-Fox suggested a range of new tactics, including a variation on the approach reported in last week’s report, of playing without a ball, and the need for the modern game to return to the old school of extroverts calling the shots. Debating points included Da Silva-Fox doing a bit of a "Keano" and taking exception to being told to “make some space” by a whippersnapper; Gizzabaldi shamelessly showboating his back heel into the net. I could go on and on. They certainly did. But then that’s football.

Touch-tight on the night

Readers, readers, readers: what a scrumptious event last Monday was for all who were witness to the wonders of DSPAFC. Those who were absent, for varying degrees of legitimacy (Coweyscatsi and Darrylinho on international duty), missed a corker. It almost blew the top off the Enjoyometer scale (TM Waddo). My gosh it was a thing of beauty.

It started with an air of pent up frustration on the part of the first recipient of the first Bovril award A. Woolard-Aderonski, calling his charges to the “pitch of passions” and basically making sure who knew who was boss on the touch-line. With the air of the Scottish wizard Mr Strachan, he was bellowing abuse (with a smile) to the pitch-huggers of the 7o’clock slot. Through the use of the fool-proof method of encroachment he got his point across. Soon they were like mere mice as they realised the kings of the field were limbered up, in record time, a full 1 min 20.
The athletes took to the field, making it their own once more. It was ON.
The arrival times were “not too bad” (Anon) and just as the chaps practised their intended skills for the showdown, again the DSPAFC squad and the visiting wannabees were baffled by the Bibs or the lack thereof. The selectors had decided to again move the goalposts (more of which later). No bibs but a new selection process, Colours of choice was re-instated. This may be temporary but one thing is for sure, the teams are forever on their toes and so it should be for these seasoned sports-folk. There is only so much a competitive bout of Suduko can do for you. The numbers, reduced due to varying reasons (more of which later!!!) took to the turf with a novel 4 v 5 attack-minded formation. The Whites or off whites v the darker topped fellas. The match was captivating from the off and we had a thrilling encounter which swung in roundabouts as the doughty 4 held their own. It was touch-tight for the first half - “the congestion in mid-field was so evident that it should have been charged” (Mr Livingstone) - and the numerical advantage did not prove true in terms of scoreline. There was banter on the field and a more generous display of making full use of the players around them, a more rounded display one could say. The wide areas once more played a part with Lohmann in particular ghosting in from the right to devastating effect. The showboating of the first half of the Five would change after the blowdrying and hair sculpture treatment of the half time chat. Der Kaiser was not content with the un-climactic (and indeed unclimatic too) sexy football of his peeps and, as Hoddle is my witness, they were quick off the blocks after the interval.

The gaffer’s “maturing pine sapling/telescopic” legs were making a menace of themselves to his opponents. The timing, the positioning, the sheer length were a wonder to all, as the limbs extended, wound themselves round the hapless challenger’s shin, and retracted with the ball seemingly adhesively fixed to the extremity. A faultless display and yet he was again linking with the front men to grab his glory, a highlight being a swerving drive from 30 yards which cannoned off the bar.

Word on the Tabloid street suggests a little tension building with the backroom staff (notably the Bibmeister), in regards to the defence or lack thereof. The team worked beautifully with the Five forming a novel circular/spiral formation which rotated to absorb the opponents in a series of carefully positioned ‘black-holes’. Some had aged considerably when they ‘returned’ from the space-time folds, while others were visibly rejuvenated. Either way this was mind-bending football of the highest order (as Der Kaiser and Roperaroo later explained to the pavilion it is a matter of mathematics, or physics, and the exact amount of contraction of the calf muscle at the time of impact is vital). Each player working off eachother and being accountable for their actions. But let’s not forget the formidable four. What a display, what engines, what a contest! The four off whites played a determined and challenging game and although heavy legs and being a man down could be viewed as excuses, they fought tooth and nail to the final clunk of the lights.

The highs they can take away from this night are too many to mention. However the man of the night was, by unanimous pavilion decision, G. Gilesinhio for his overall determination, goals and turning, which transformed what many envisaged as a “men against boys” or “guinea pigs against guinea pigs” contest into a thrilling “water fowl versus gerbils” match. He showed form and determination and the Bovril M/PotM is rightly his. As mentioned on MotD 2, by Gavin Peacock, he had the 3A’s. Advancement, Awareness and Ability. It’s so true.

Goal of the match had to be Garrattelli's balletic twist and strike which hit the net with aplomb. Gizzabaldi appeared to have shaken off his roving thigh/calf strain and, despite spending most of the match on his rear-end, was eager to get his name on the score-sheet, even seizing upon the absence of Turnbulletino to convert a penalty kick. He rather undid this good work by providing an audible commentary for what he was sure was going to be his third from a beautifully weighted threaded pass by Gilesinho before skying it as he completed the final syllable of his accompanying bon mots.

Conngiggski took his scoring tally to dizzying heights with a triple-brace and will be duly awarded his sticker at next week's pre-match presentation.
Kingchelskis was a battler in the challenge who later in the pavilion worried about his over indulgent Joey Bartonesque challenges. A series of mazy runs down the flanks had the 4 strewn about the final third like surprised cockroaches mesmerised by overhead pina coladas.

P.S. I am delighted to announce on behalf of “Marmite Fair Play inc”, we presently stand proudly in pole position in the league. The only fouls conceded or claimed over the months have been variations of transgressions of the high ball or D rules. “Go DSPAFC!!!”
Bring on Monday where we welcome a new signing. Coaxed back into the limelight of top-flight football is the Grey Wizard (not Ravenelli), veteran of Cliftonville FC and Glentoran FC and one-time back page headline grabber of the Belfast Telegraph, K. Da Silva-Fox . Watch this space!!!!

Remember, remember the 5th of November

Well how could we ever forget this catchy phrase after the display on this fine Autumnal eve. Again we were treated like royalty to a display of fabulous skills from this ever improving team. Again they proved their critics wrong: long forgotten are the old headlines of these chaps being over-rated, over-paid and over the hill. No they played a thrilling match of topsy-turvy, end-to-end passion-fuelled flamboyant football.

The home team, although hampered by multiple injuries - more of which later - was not willing to show any weakness in any position. The selected team was reduced, due to some players’ off the field commitments and one player unable to squeeze his Bentley Continental through the gates, and was late in being announced. The mighty Gilesinho took charge of the bib allocation and was as quick in his selection of the team as he was to be in his selection of cutting passes later on.

Again it was an unusual battle of a 6v5, and a brave suggestion that a singular rotation of 5v6 occur for the second half. Having learned a hard lesson last week with these changes, many of the team were sporting timekeeping pieces. On show were a variety of Rolex and deep sea diving pieces and of course the footballer’s favourite, the Texas Instrument digital. It was going to be a great night. This was compounded by the firework display at kickoff. “The budget was blown but it was a real crowd pleaser”(Aderonskï - head of accounts)
As Conngiggskï suggested on his travels to the match, “we will hit the ground running and start as we mean to go on". The tempo we have grown accustomed to in recent weeks was evident from the off.

Der Kaiser, after some barren weeks (goalwise) early in the season, was on fire and played a great game just behind the front two, or one or none, depending on tactics. He made his intentions early doors and scored a screamer (Ahhh!, Bisto goal of the match by unanimous vote) with the outside of his trusty recently sponsored boot. It was going to be a good night for the seasoned Bayern man. Two more were to follow, one a cheeky corner kick catching the keeper off his line, who fumbled for the ball, but it was beyond his grasp. Aderihiano was as surprised as any as his own pile-driver from 23yds found the top corner. The memory of the goal was enhanced by a perfectly timed boom as the sky lit up and sparkled to celebrate.

Some of the more steady players (no names needed) had what some may call a “Diego Forlan” night - lots of running and great first touch but little else.
But as ever there was a drive for glory near the end and controversy in the confusion of tactics and formation. Late on Gilesihno had a one on one with the Conngiggskï: as the keeper left his area to clear, the hapless striker, on a hat-trick, had a rush of blood to his wise head. “You can’t fly”, he hollered in disgust, but as R Kelly, and later Westlife, beautifully sang “ I believe I can fly" was Conngiggskï’s claim.

Late doors there was a bit of time wasting from Colours of Benetton United, skying two simple chances in front of the sticks, much to the disgust of the home side who were sadly trailing by two. Which by all accounts was a mystery. A mystery which will haunt them for some time. When the pundits viewed and discussed the play later in the pavilion there seemed to be at least one mystery goal missing. This would no doubt have changed the complexion of the game and FIFA are looking at a possible replay, point deduction, or the old favourite, “calling it a draw”. I for one would go for the latter. A further mystery concerned the final minutes of the match. With a match ball a-piece - which otherwise were destined for the burgeoning personal collections of the hat-trick heroes Gilesinho (who had the audacity to bag 4) and Der Kaiser - ‘skyed’ into the crowd, the climax to the game appeared to be played out in mime. This did not deter Garrattino from intercepting everything that moved, as he had all evening while the real ball was on the field of play, nor Gizzabaldi from leaping like a salmon in the visitor’s D area, thwarting the home side’s late pressure to snatch a less demoralising defeat from the jaws of a more demoralising defeat.
Nominations for the Bovril Man of the Match were a difficult call as several of the crew gave 110% throughout, but one man stood out like a firework. Step up M. Campellese.
The pundits also announced new awards, which will be given in a sticker style ceremony at the pavilion, for now (still awaiting sponsor’s confirmation of the exact amount of the award money). Marmite Magical moment for M. Waddoluci’s solo effort and the Bert Trautmann award for goalkeeping heroics and/or unnecessary dives went to G. Gizzabaldi.

The Pavilion – which was relocated temporarily to SE24 - was quiet by comparison this Monday night as many had charity events, firework displays to open and the like to attend. These guys DO give back to the very people who have made them.

We all look forward to more high jinks next week and may, we hope, welcome back some of our injured athletes. Namely Coweyskatsi (thumb), Turnbulletino (metatarsels of the inner palm) and Daryllinho (throat) amongst others.
Roll on next week.

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They played till the final whistle and beyond

Bovril player of the match M. Waddo-luci

The team reunited with a spring in their step after a well deserved half–term break (well for some anyway). The break brought with it varying degrees of suffering / injuries along with a renewed hunger for glory. Added to this there was a new design ball, some key players

on sabbatical and team selection and rotations that would bewilder even the guru and candle wax lover Mr Alan Hansen (News of the World Sept 2007 vol 4).

The night started off with a flurry. Gizzabaldi had a very late fitness test, having struggled all week from his thigh and calf strain. He had followed the club doctor’s advice: Deep Heat, Oxygen Tent, Sprouts with EVERY meal but could not shake it off. It was with a sense of awe that he and Conngiggskï arriving late witnessed the array of talent on the pitch already having done their choreographed warm-up.
As mentioned in previous articles about this unique group of sportsmen, the bibs took another twist, well the allocation of them at least. Der Kaiser had a moment of inspiration, by symbolically removing his captain’s armband and instructing the shell-shocked Aderonskï (flown in from Sicily by helicopter for the fixture) to make clear his chosen few. With little hesitation he duly strode around the ‘turf and bibbed them up. Inspired choice some thought, others were as worried as ever. The game began with its usual high tempo, over hit passes, loose ball control and over indulgent runs, which combined, gave us a little taster of the evening’s direction.

Then the tactics were thrown into meltdown. Two late arrivals, Giles from his unofficial, ill-conceived, trial with Anderlecht and Campbell who had been moonlighting with 11-a-siders, sent out an air of confusion which would permeate the remainder of the game.

However it was ON. My word what a treat we had. A stop-watch was called for by the newly appointed captain. A decision of 15 mins of a 6 v 5 and then vice versa. Rafa and Jose could not have kept up with the endless rotation and the aforementioned Mr Hansen would have struggled in calling the formation which we mastered, especially in the “holding role”. The general approach was a rough diamond formation which produced a thrilling encounter.

Gizzabaldi, although obviously struggling, was foiled in the opening moments with a pile-driver nonchalantly parried by Lohmann. Der Kaiser made some surging runs and Campbell was his ever present whippet-like curse to the opposition. King had a mixed night with a conversion rate of goals to chances (here re-converted into a decimal representation) of approximately .215637777. However when other factors are factored in this in fact amounts to a rate of .734333. Expressed as a factor, however, you end up with 2/2 which in my book means 1. Which means he did not in fact miss any. Giles too experienced both highs and highs, a wonder-strike compensated for by a ‘skyed’ side-footer into the darkness.

However the man of the night was Waddo (recipient of the official Bovril Player of the Match award). The break did him no harm at all, au contraire, French wine (du vin as he insisted on translating) clearly agreeing with his playing style in much the same way as it did David Ginola in his own heyday. He was reborn tonight, making what he called himself “enough space to build an allotment” (terroir), into which his team could allow him to showboat his way to the goal of the night (some say the season!!!!!!!).He took it on the run down the flanks, like a “Viennese whirl” (as he later described it) and as it rose like a carefully created soufflé he propelled the regulation size match ball into the onion sack.

A goal! He was pleased no end, to the point of showing his glee by giving it “the full mozzarella treatment” (Darrylinho), gesturing to the crowd, fists clenched and a grin to match. This was a far cry from his early season form where he had “the turning speed of the Titanic” (Waddoluci, no relation).

The match was on another level from what we had previously witnessed. It was punishing but it was at “the peak of the enjoyometer scale” (Waddoluci) and this was shown by the spirit of the game throughout. A 7-7 draw was snatched from the jaws of a 6-7 defeat by the visitors as Garrattino (fresh from a spell with the Orlando Otters) expertly slotted home the equaliser from a tight angle. To the point that as they were plunged into the depths of absolute darkness, by the floodlight failure, at twenty past the hour of nine, there was a cry from one silhouetted team member to “play on”. These men of men showed true grit and determination even after the final whistle with King and Lohmann each claiming to have put away the winner in the shadows. Referee Jorge Satantango disallowed the 'goal' and cautioned the whole team. Just which cards of which colour were shown to which players is a talking point, in fact three of them. But hell, who cares, we have the strength in depth to field a top-drawer line-up despite the suspensions. That won't make those who had to face the 'hairdryer treament' this morning feel any better. But hey, it's only hair.

The only thing which calmed these pros and dragged them from the pitch, fumbling for their energy drinks and clean smalls, was the statement of the man of the match, “only another 47 weeks to go lads”. Beautifully put and enough to gee up the spirits of the exhausted group.

The post match visit to the pavilion was the usual great ending to the evening. As ever the superfoods were available and availed of! A varying array of substances were chosen, Der Kaiser opting for the safe but hardy cheese enhanced chip, but Conngiggskï choosing a selection of “root one vegetables”, otherwise known as pot-pourri. These chaps could not stop entertaining even after the game, oh how we laughed!. One may even venture to say that the diversity of Über-foods matched the variation of the play that night. Some safe old school, some spicy and some downright audacious choices of this ever-developing group of athletes.

The topics varied throughout the night. The match was of course foremost in their minds, but that did not deter the pundits from straying to topics as diverse as Michael Palin’s “lazy” TV series about the ‘new Europe’, Austrian viticulture, the arrival of autumn and the price of cabbage. Plans were hatched to get Setanta to renew their deal so that the cameras would once more come to North Dulwich. It was, as ever end-to-end stuff both on the field and off (as once more the stalwarts saw time called before departing into the ‘village’), not a foul all night and the spreading of the new ball was mesmerising for all who observed this latest instalment of Monday night indulgence.
A week is a long time but it will be worth the wait.

Constanin Conngiggskï

Mondeo Waddoluci's moving memoir Quick Feet, or, the Alphabet of my Footballing World: How to Make your Twinkle Toes Work - From Altringham Rovers to Vienna and Back is out now and available from all good bookshops

Highlights from last season

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Vpf-AtCRdE

Using the wide areas: how it can all go wrong

Colours of Benetton United tried out an experimental formation of 1-1-1-1 modelled on the great AC Milan formation of 1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1 of the early 1970s. The shrewd tactician behind this resurgent team obviously knew what he was doing, as they cruised to an early 0-0 stalemate. Player of the match Conngiggski having spurned several early chances eventually found his range with 2 surefooted strikes in quick succession. Game on! Use the wide areas came the cry from CBU stalwart Darrylinho. And they did, responding by spraying overhit passes left and right and into the neighbouring pitches for the most part. Conngiggski struck again with monotonous accuracy including an insolent back-heel. A ball in the midriff for brave Darrylinho as he compensated for defensive errors straight out of the compendium of schoolboy stuff. The Wolf stood, hands on hips, strikingly standing out against the third generation astroturf, in new socks and retro-styled black and white three-stripe (as they used to have to say in Ireland) shooting
boots. A man alone with his thoughts. Michalides pounced on a spill by the stand-in goalkeeper Cowey and fleet-footed slotted in the first of his many on this his unforgettable debut. Adriano, the new signing, produced what he later referred to in the pavilion as the most improbable goal of the evening. This was but the opening tumble in the comedy of errors which was to follow. The wide areas were aimed for and missed, despite their width. Balls sprayed and pinged every part of the anatomy of Conngiggski as he donned the gloves. For a full 10 minutes of frenetic schoolboy stuff he lept between the sticks. Fortress North Dulwich! And then the counter. There was almost a dive header from the halfway line as Gizzabaldi saw the ball sitting up perfectly. Only the lack of speed of his thought processes prevented him from propelling the ball past the hapless keeper who was stranded in the wide area. Cowey turned on a sixpence to pile on the agony for CBU. The wide area proved decisive again in th 58th minute as King and Conngiggski collided mouth to mouth. Shoulder to shoulder they had worked together to produce a thrilling encounter down the left channel, now, hand on heart who could blame either for contesting every ball. Two collossuses for the price of one, floored by their own folly. They bravely played out the remainder of the 70 minutes and shook hands in the old style. "Next goal the winner" went up over the tannoy, and there's Conniggski putting the winner away. "No next goal the winner"...was it a mistake on the tannoy? What happened next is a mystery, but it will certainly go down in the annals as a fitting end to another near-classic 12-9 victory for the home side against the plucky visitors.

Talking points at the pavilion - extra time

In the post match pavilion talks, unbelievably no one would appear to have seen the collision between the two wingers/whingers. As the claret poured from both of these trojans of the field, no one saw it. Both Gizabbaldi and Der Kaiser ( in Arsène Wenger stylee), denied ever seeing it, hearing about it or knowing anything about it, as they both were concentrating on the ball, and it was too far away to see. Plus, as discussed last week, there is a bit of controversy re. post-game beverages. A question mark hangs over Darrylinho's hot toddy. Is this giving him an unfair advantage many are asking. Judging from his sliding scissor/flapjack midfield master-stroke which battered the post (once more from the wide-area on the right), one could only guess how this inspired choice came to be. As he added, during a wide-ranging post-match discussion which saw the pundits draw analogies from the fields of alternative medicine and the hit TV series Californication, we are "on the cusp of amateurism". A new development on the field of play enabled the pundits to hear playback of some of the more interesting tactical on-pitch statements of the players, in particular the captain’s observations regarding the positioning of Conngiggskï “in a football no mans land", and to the effect that Gizzabaldi was “running like Rumpelstiltskin".

Dynamo Staropremium AFC
Weekly Gazette
Vol. 1, issue 1, October 16 2007

Well what a difference a week in football makes. Last night was a right ding-dong of a match. The highs and lows of a real contest. A contest which unfolded not only on the field of play, but even more-so in the minds of the team.

Once more there was a great turn out with all the usual suspects. The weather was again kind to us all and it looked like it was all to play for. Little did we know that all was not well within the ranks of the Dynamo Staropremium camp.

To start with we had a 6 v 6 v 6 (could it have had something to do with the number of the Beast?) session with multiple balls to choose from. The third team comprised the collective psyche of the first choice 12. More of that later.
The Bib controversy of last week took another perplexing but inspired turn. Der Kaiser (AKA the Wolf) bravely took full charge of team selection and allocated the Bibs in an apparently very casual manner. One could see however that this was far from casual in his mind (see photo right). He stroked those red tops, as easily as he strokes the match ball, and distributed them to peeps who on paper may have looked innocuous but which on the glorious green carpet would cohere into a formidable team reminiscent of Derby County circa 1973. It was on and make no mistake about that. The inspired team selection would bring out both the best and the worst of these two star line-ups. The teams lined up, reds v Colours of Benetton United.

It was tasty out there. Watch out England on Wednesday, was at the back of all our minds, as the friction of ‘grass’ on ball was tested to the limit. It was fast, it was skiddy, it was a battle ground. The cries for foul-play were repeatedly dismissed by the referee Jorge Satantango. This was not the jovial, banter-filled Monday of old, "it was fractured and fractious" ((c) Waddo 2007)."There was a change in the air" ((c) Waddo 2007).There were fires in their bellies. A look of determination which would soon boil over into near chaos. So much so that Der Kaiser had to call an old school "time out", as the teams were splattered with not only handbags/manbags, but spat out dummies, the prams whence they came and more.

There has been a very noticeable change in the players since moving to their new ground, mainly in their attire. Last night saw a very different look among the crew. Shin pads were on show by most of the team, perhaps a sign of what was to come. Not to name names, but King, Darrylinho and Conncoggskey (no relation to Conngiggskï) all proudly strutted their stuff and new gear and were brave in the tackle as befits young men in such protective livery.
The score-line did not reflect the effort which was put in by all players this October eve. (Which during the post-match conference, rated a mere 4/10. The lowest of this hard fought season). Cowey (seen below contemplating what might have been) claimed it compared to a West Ham v Millwall encounter of the mid to late eighties, and was worse than the infamous night of the hailstones in late July. The ending was also very controversial, with Gazibaldi (no relation to Gizzabaldi) leaving the pitch with a hamstring injury and Turnbull, having previously broken several metatarsels or something, in his hand in the 34th minute, calling time before the customary "next goal wins" scenario taking place. The controversy arising from Giles thereby being denied his birth-right is destined to endure beyond this season.

In the post match, in the pavilion, the crew discussed the match in the usual booze-fuelled manner. Darrylinho, having coached many high profile stars in the art of 5-a-side (Ian Rush comes to mind), was grilled on the intricate rules - high ball, goal areas, free kicks and the like. Nothing was agreed but it was a hoot.

Waddo even argued that "we should avoid the gargle (beer) next week to see what if any effect it would have". The general feeling of avoiding beer and superfoods however would do us no good whatsoever: "Bo_lox to this", both Cowey and Connciggskey, were heard mumbling. May I add that some have been seen necking a lime and soda prior to their pint and this will have to be looked into. Our saving grace was again those cheeky chappies from the north east who consumed multiple beverages of varying brewing and fermentation styles and made up for any previous wrong-doing by others.

We agreed that next week would see a greater effort by all concerned and we can only look forward to our next encounter.

The Bovril Player of the match award went, by unanimous vote, to A. Woolard (seen below).

(The editor adds, on a personal note: It has come to my attention that some of the team feel I gave a one-sided view of last week’s encounter, for which I do not apologise in any way, shape or form.)
Constantin Connciggskï