Vamos a la playa oh oh oh as Dynamos rock St Pat's day

DSPAFC 12 St Patrick's Athletic 9
Att. 64,257

Well readers I will attempt to report on what was seen by many as being the return to form we had all longed for.

After DSPAFC’s unfortunate exit from the Milk Cup 2008, they bounced back to their old swaggering ways.

The injury hit squad making its way out of the treatment room and some familiar faces returning from loan spells for the cup, enhanced the team not only in number but more importantly in style of play.

Dynamos supremo Juande Vamos has obviously regained control of the dressing room. Judging by the new attire and hair styles on display. This was further evident in the shape and formation which on paper seemed risky, but on the night paid dividends.

A challenging 6v5 was on offer for this near capacity crowd to digest. From the off it was on.

Bibbed up, gelled up and booted for the ready, the high vis pros on pitch number one were pumped up to the max.

Normally on such high octane evenings the teams square up, psych each other out, see the pattern develop and pounce when the game plan is on offer.

Not tonight, Al Kinghali playing out of his skin and wearing what the tabloids compare to Action Man (Adventurer) civvies, took hold of the sphere and made it his own.

Whatever curry was offered pre or post match had an explosive effect on this product of the Dynamo youth academy. Before the shooting pegs of the others had nestled into their respective booties he had taken a new approach. Shoot from any angle.

One on one, only Conngiggskï to beat, and BAM! In the onion baji sack. Before the opposition had time to gather their thoughts, Bosh! A Vindaloo of a strike went right through the keeper. A poppadom Bomb was soon to follow into the top corner of the Dan-Sack, the opposition were almost motionless, well in defence they pretty much were. More was to follow, late doors when he extracted the last vestiges of the take away with a clinical finish and a naan bread .

By the 20min mark the lesser numbered Limes were 6-1 up. Frustration soon followed, some bitchin’ about the balls, others about the lack of defence and the rest just showboating around the D to avoid a Robbie Keane substitution.

The come-back was inevitable, but how and when? The 5 had an impenetrable defence and try as they did, there seemed to be no answer.

Soon enough Gizzabaldi the squid (see last week’s explanation) got his glory. A couple back and a draw seemed likely for once.

Their comeback hopes were dashed by some Jennings like heroics ‘tween the bark by Waddolucci. He stood his ground and gave it his all. A swerving drive from 25 yards from Wolfkaiser, seen late by the acrobatic keeper, was blocked by his trusted undercarriage. His cries of pain were only drowned out by the cheer of appreciation as he bounced back and saved again with his well toned derriere. He gave it everything. He was stretchered off and after 4 wet sponges and 3 polo mints, administered by St Johns Ambulance, he was back for more.
What a Pro.

There was controversy to follow. The hero of the hour had a handbag swapping session near the D. Conngiggskï, alone on the wing, had an accidental stepover, through, one on one, and the Hero stopped play. Calling the ball out, Conngiggski, returning from injury, screamed in disgust, earning him a Yellow. He threw his designer hat to the turf and kicked, more than once. Earning him a further yellow. Luckily referee Jorge Satantango had another bad day at the office and did not realise that the accused should have had an early bath. We hear that CCTV may offer more on this matter. Word on the street is that at the Pavilion, “it all kicked off, old school” (Lorro). No one has been charged but watch this space.

The tackles, including Waddo’s, were crunching, the passion was high, the screeching was higher. But the teams gave it their all. The scoreline does not reflect the input. The final score being 12-9, or somewhere in that ballpark.

Close season is looming, and word from Juande Vamos is keep fit, keep focused and judging by Monday's performance, keep your local Indian T/A in business.

As Jan Molby reported, the FA are to extend their tests on the sensor carrying ball (right) at the Arena in a response to Waddogiggskigate.

The Marmite PotM award went by unanimous decision to F. Al Kinghali.

Bring on the Anniversary Cup Final (date and location to be confirmed) where stickers will be awarded and the Bristol Cream will flow.

Planetary alignment, strange weather and Spring tides dump Dynamos out of cup

DSPAFC ξ West Dulwich Albion Ψ

Att. 22,397

Supernatural or mystical forces were at work tonight, the first time since 1976 that the quarter finals had this look about them, the weather matching that of the same date that year and old rivals facing each other in a rematch of the classic enounter of March the year the cup last went south of the Thames to SE21. On the eve of the Ides of March, the script was written; all it needed was John Motson to sign it off with a 'romance of the cup' commemorative sticker and it was ON!

The plucky minnows so revere their giant neighbours that they have taken to naming themselves after the players responsible for some of the biggest egos and credit balances in the modern game. By a strange irony this evening they would have to confront the 'real' Roperaroo, Aderonski, Waddolucci, and Gilesinho. Even more bizarrely, it was this very foursome who found themselves either dropped or injured for the home side. And so it was that the virtual versions lined up against the depleted might of the Dynamos, also tonight without Wolfmilktraykaiser, Campelese, El Darrylinho, Al Kinghali, Lohmann and Turnbulletin. With Michelides and Ballsssssterious both cup-tied the romance in the cup was brimming as a windswept Arena welcomed a measly 22,000 souls into its icy embrace.

It is not for nothing that this competition is revered the world over as simply the best, in the immortal words of Tina Turner, and that everyone in the world even if they couldn't give a toss about football, tunes in their telly at ungodly hours of the day and night if they happen to live a place very far away from the UK, such as for example Brazil, to watch slightly less talented versions of premiership footballers kick the living daylights out of the real ones and maybe steal a victory from sides who couldn't really be arsed at the end of the day because we'd only end up playing Barnsley probably and that's not much of a day out for us or the fans, is it? Early doors this proved not to be an exception to the sentiments of Tina Turner's cacophony with the minnows setting out their stickleback and periwinkle stall with a 6-1 lead away to the once swaggering Dynamos.

At half-time the great Jan Molby offered insightful punditry on the touchline: "You've got to say that the home side's keeper needn't have bothered with his gloves tonight so far, he had that much of a chance to get near to a touch on the 6 goal salvo that has come west along the South Circular and then a sharp right, taking care to avoid the roadworks on Red Post Hill to knock the Dynamos for 6", observed the walking talking legend. Out came the hair staighteners during Junade Vamos' half-time talk. It seemed to do the trick with Gizzabaldi suddenly finding his range via the use of 'the octopus' - a technique said to be inspired by Juande Vamos' advocacy of a large plate of calamari on matchday. As the arms sway from side to side an undulating effect is created reminiscent of the great Jacques Cousteau's period at Marseille which mesmerises the defence and enables the piscine predator to slip through the net. Now pick that one out of your own net, he seemed to say, in a mime show reminiscent of the great Marcel Marceau as he indicated that yes this was the beginning of a 'prison break' and that the home side would indeed dig their way out of the hole they had imprisoned themselves in through their first half debacle. The Dynamos rallied: Coweyscatsi a powerhouse in the midfield hit a brace of top-drawer 'mullets' into the visitor's net. Garrattino hobbling throughout the 90 was not found wanting either and performed a dumbfounding sleight of hand which saw him levitate, reverse mid-air and set off on a decoy flight-path to set Gizzabaldi up. In the D was Constantin 'the glove' Conngiggski who saved late doors twice in quick succession from the rampaging 'Waddolucci'.

At the other end it was a masterclass in imitation as 'Gilesinho' put on a display of finishing that even the real Gilesinho would take his hat off to. Left, right, left, right, uptown, downtown, Goodnight! he bagged a half dozen or more. 'Aderonski' was somewhat more subdued than his Premiership version but still seemed to have learned a few tricks from him. Not least the psychological toying with Gizzabaldi which saw the Dynamo resort to a two-steps only penalty strike and a double save from the multi-tasking 'Waddolucci'. "Trying to teach a seasoned pro the rules of his own game, sonny boy?" stormed Dynamo assistant manager Xavier Xerox in a fiery post-match interview. Looking every bit the part of an understudy who has been watching from the wings waiting for their chance to replace the diva centre stage, 'Roperaroo' skipped through the defence to blow the bloody doors off with an aria that would have left the great Maria Callas during her time with Inter, not to mention the great attacking midfielder himself, out of breath.

Referee Jorge Satantango let the game flow, as befitted this acquatically themed display, this despite some curious decisions regarding advantage played to the home side and choosing to see the gamesmanship of the minnows alleged by Xerox as expressions of respect for the Dynamos.

The home side rallied amid confusing signals on the scoreboard and alleged timewasting by the visitors. "The self-styled 'Waddolucci' made a mockery of the good name of his supposed hero by indulging in a display of timewasting not seen since his namesake watched his childhood heros Boro cause him to spend some of the most painful 90 minutes of his spectating career against Jimmy Floyd Hasselbaink's Cardiff last weekend". The rancour of the Dynamos could do nothing to hide the fact that behind the elusive scoreline, no matter which way you read the tealeaves, it looked like another shock exit from the cup.

The Marmite PotM award (sticker) went, by unanimous decision, to G. Gilesinho, while the Ahh! Bisto goal of the match went to A. Roperaroo while the 'magical moments' stickers were shared between C. Conngiggski and M. Waddollucci for goalkeeping excellence.

Attic overcrowded as Dynamos rewrite classic

Claptonspecialbrew Athletic 8
Dynamo Staropremium AFC 8
Att. 32, 409

A classic, classique, classico: whatever language it was, the general consensus was this was a night of majestical football. The post-match analysis combined with the MotD2 team’s own opinions held this encounter up there with the all time best.

With the season drawing to a close all who took to the field of dreams were playing for their bib. Be it Tangerine or Lime, they invested their vests with the zesty passion we have come to expect of this bunch of citric footballing fruitbowl inhabitants. The mood in the camp has been at an all season high. The banter, the wet towel flicking pre and post match, the text messaging in the final third, have shown a unity and cameraderie which is surpassed only by Spurs' line-dancing spectacular after their Milk Cup glory week at Faces Discotheque.

As the Nolan sisters (later simply the Nolans and a formidable 5-a-side team in their own right) once memorably sang: “Dance...Go on and dance...ooh let’s dance...”. These words seem appropriate on a night when the teams took on the sentiment expressed in the very next line of the song and gave it their all tonight. The squad was strengthened not only in number, but, more importantly, in depth. Those returning from the oxygen tents and the new in vogue method used by Andy Murray, a Steam Yoga session, showed great form and willingness in the challenge. Aderonski and Garrattino sharpened their shooting boots as the evening progressed and the increase in accuracy can be seen throughout the 90 in the adjacent chart. Claptonspecialbrew Athletic, playing at their homeground 'The Attic', and now, in the roundabout of Premiership managerial appointments, under Makkapakka McClaren (who left DSPAFC pocketing a hefty settlement fee, which he added to the wad of cash he trousered in his departure from Colors of Benetton just 5 days into his appointment) may have returned triumphant from their 2-0 victory away to Steaua Bucharest but that doesn’t put the porridge on the table in the more domestic context of the Premiership dining salon with PlaystationTM annex that is today’s game.

The 6v6 option chosen by Juande Vamos this evening was brave. At the off it seemed a tad confusing for those not familiar to this system. Namely all who donned the bib. A 1-4 or a flat 5 stonewall? It changed dramatically throughout, in the ebb and flow of this relentless attack-minded sporting exhibition. A clash of Titans some say. A showcase for the modern game say others. A cornucopia of threaded passes and embroidered doilies in the final third of the pitch say others.
It was on, even before it was ON!

Gizzabaldi set his stall out very early doors: he must have been up at the crack of dawn to prepare himself for his new approach to this game. Before the stonewall rendering had even set itself, he combined with his team-mate (unknown due to your correspondent’s multi-tasking in the home side’s D) to score the goal he had been rehearsing in his mind all season. The sphere sat up, like a puppydog begging to be patted on the noggin; then it became clear what he had here: not a puppy after all but a mouthwatering soufflé, 6 eggs lightly whisked, gas mark 6 for 6 minutes. Fan-assisted, the finest example of home-baking the striker had seen for several years awaited his approval. When he had chosen his next move, it was a possessed strike. The boy had to have sold his soul, to enable him thus to levitate, no strings, and hammer the beast to its doom in the sack of onions/garlic. As it ignited and formed a toxic pool in the corner of Conngiggskï’s goal many could foresee that this was to be no ordinary football game.

Referee Jorge Satatango, the crowd, players and admin staff all stood still for a full 12.4seconds. As if awaiting an action replay on the big screen. Sadly we had to wait till 10.30 BBC7 for that treat. It was very reminiscent of Ronaldinho’s goal on Saturday in La Liga. Youtube, you may well crash once these two gadflies of football get their 60 seconds of fame.

But this was only the beginning. He followed on to get his Striker’s Pure Hat-trick. Left, right and a half bicycle kick.
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It was tight in all areas. The near miss became the norm, with the usual champions of the almost area striking well wide of the mark, sometimes wide of the corner flag. Every ball was contested. Oh what a crowd pleaser. Showboating was at an all time high: stepovers, shimmies, nutmegs, what a night, and all this with a congested mid-field.

The squad and rotation system played their parts. Roperaroo, the solid goal a match insurance policy, again took his opportunity and he too could hold the double sided sticker for goal of the month. It was a feast of feasts. The newly named Ballack Milktraykaiser played his usual flawless game, hollering at his team-mates to fall back. No hang on there not that much. This however became his own decoy, to plant a fine match winning glory goal, to befit any match, on any other day (but would this be such a day?).

Jean-Michel Turnbulletin did not, for a change, get his double figure of deposits in the sac d’oignons. He was kept relatively quiet on the goalscoring front by new signing Michelides in a contest of chess-like complexity. He did however get his just rewards in the end. Twist, turn and, finger to lips to the home-crowd, he let the ball whisper a “don’t mess with me” warning to the home fans. The trademark celebration as he recreated the final scene from episode 27 of Bonanza left the Arena silenced.

Waddolucci had a barn-storming game, not only ‘tween the barks, but on the flanks, Whippet-like running and crisp passing. Yes it was a case of in-in-one in the players’ car-park, just as he had predicted in a pre-match press conference. Another beneficiary of Juande Vamos' attention to nutrition, the urbane attacking midfielder (who would have been called a winger in former times - not his own of course) has reportedly reduced his wine glass size at the pavilion from large to medium. Science has its part to play in the modern game and no mistake!!!! Coweyscatsi masterminded operations from the holding position in midfield, deploying the lexicon of the Bingo hall as code, while Seve Ballesssssterious looked anything but below par, despite a bogey in an edge of the D one-on-one with the bunker patrolled by 'Brylcreme'TM Conngiggski.

In a night of linguistic mayhem “Calamity Jesse James Jennings” Conngiggskï, still nursing a mangled Metatarsal, stayed as Keeper of the Grail for the full 90. He was praised no end for his endeavours and diving saves straight out of the top drawer. However on reflection he has, with “No Dis” to the sponsors, refused his Marmite Sticker. “Basically, having let in 8 on the night, I feel I could have done a bit better. I was looking for a clean sheet, and while I came close I didn't come close enough”.
The challenge of the night was one for the http://www.tacklesofdistinction.com/ scrapbook: Waddolucci tracking back to shoulder Wolfkaiser and edging him off the ball. What a legendary meeting of Ws with a wery wery supwising outcome (surprising for all except that is Juande Vamos and the team nutritionist).

My Gosh it brings back emotions of glee which I cannot compare to any other sporting event since 1965. We, the sponsors, supporters and most of all football itself won on this night of the inevitable draw. 8-8.
“Oh what a night” came up over the tannoy and the dancing began in earnest.

Marmite PotM: step up G. Gizzabaldi, while the Southall (headband and sticker) goes to C. Conngiggski.