Bovril player of the match M. Waddo-luciThe 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.
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.
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.
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 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
