THE PREMIERSHIP
LEAGUE TABLE (TOP)
Pld W D L F A Pts
DSPAFC 19 11 5 3 180 167 38
Colors of 19 9 5 5 142 132 32
Benetton Utd
Peckham 18 8 8 3 160 151 32
Woodpecker-
Cider AFC
Claptonspec- 19 7 7 5 101 101 28
ialbrew Ath
Friday, February 29, 2008
Mid-season league table
Stalemate at the Arena despite fresh legs
Colors of Benetton Utd 13 Dynamo Staropremium AFC 13Att. 31,387
What a night of football we were witness to on this blustery eve. It was something to behold. Memories are made of such a display. But here’s one I prepared earlier:
After the kafuffle of last week's 3v3 exhibition, the DSAFC had the strength and depth to field the old reliable 4v5, and it was a goal fest. An average of one goal per 2.30769231 minutes. If they had not been so wasteful in front of the sticks it could easily have been lowered to one per 1.5688412 minutes. All were guilty of the near miss, some more than others.
The result could not have been guessed at any point of the game, not even in the dying moments. It was ON from the off, if you catch my drift (?). The numerical advantage of the DSPAFC 5s did nothing to help them in this battle. In fact some would say the extra player caused some congestion in the middle of the park, hampering their free-flowing moves and passes. It appeared to be their downfall and trailed by as much 5 at the mid way point. But they bounced back to make it a ding dong of a match.
.
Once more the kidz from number 3 were itching for a game with the grown up pros. They could not hide their beaming smiles as they saw the low numbers arriving for the match of the week. However once again we told them to “grow up and watch and learn”. They have the enthusiasm and spirit, but we would cruelly dash their hopes were we to take them on. Their vision and knowledge of the game are at the lower end of the slope of footballing wisdom, which we know is slippery and steep.
The average gate on the night welcomed two well groomed ringers for the night. They have since officially transferred from Peckhamwoodpeckerscider AFC and Claptonspecialbrew Athletic respectively. Michelangelo Michaelides, previously on loan to the Dynamos, made a glorious return to the Arena, while Marcel Flynnailly bossed the midfield with the authority one would expect of the former Paris St Germain legend. They looked the part and played their part. No need for an interpreter here as the pair seemed to adopt the language of the Arena early doors. “Team...happy...Flynnailly pass...that’s good. Other
player...Michaelides...opponent well....good for game. Goals well...many in the net. Very happy”, opined Makkapakka McClaren’s replacement in the technical area Juande Vamos after the match at the pavilion (trans. Jean-Michel Turnbulletin).
Taking away their Hula HoopsTM and doughnut privileges is one thing but we do need to get over the language barrier to get the best out of them. At one key point, as Conngiggskï took hold of the wing, making a rare move. He was called upon to “come tight”, “make space” and much more. He was flabbergasted by such requests and simply asked, “is it back door or front?”. You can not mid match alter the mating call of these sportsmen. The whole team stopped in wonderment as to what the hell the former Peckhamwoodpeckercider midfielder was talking about. One for the training ground and make no mistake.
After the kafuffle of last week's 3v3 exhibition, the DSAFC had the strength and depth to field the old reliable 4v5, and it was a goal fest. An average of one goal per 2.30769231 minutes. If they had not been so wasteful in front of the sticks it could easily have been lowered to one per 1.5688412 minutes. All were guilty of the near miss, some more than others.
The result could not have been guessed at any point of the game, not even in the dying moments. It was ON from the off, if you catch my drift (?). The numerical advantage of the DSPAFC 5s did nothing to help them in this battle. In fact some would say the extra player caused some congestion in the middle of the park, hampering their free-flowing moves and passes. It appeared to be their downfall and trailed by as much 5 at the mid way point. But they bounced back to make it a ding dong of a match.
.
Once more the kidz from number 3 were itching for a game with the grown up pros. They could not hide their beaming smiles as they saw the low numbers arriving for the match of the week. However once again we told them to “grow up and watch and learn”. They have the enthusiasm and spirit, but we would cruelly dash their hopes were we to take them on. Their vision and knowledge of the game are at the lower end of the slope of footballing wisdom, which we know is slippery and steep.
The average gate on the night welcomed two well groomed ringers for the night. They have since officially transferred from Peckhamwoodpeckerscider AFC and Claptonspecialbrew Athletic respectively. Michelangelo Michaelides, previously on loan to the Dynamos, made a glorious return to the Arena, while Marcel Flynnailly bossed the midfield with the authority one would expect of the former Paris St Germain legend. They looked the part and played their part. No need for an interpreter here as the pair seemed to adopt the language of the Arena early doors. “Team...happy...Flynnailly pass...that’s good. Other
player...Michaelides...opponent well....good for game. Goals well...many in the net. Very happy”, opined Makkapakka McClaren’s replacement in the technical area Juande Vamos after the match at the pavilion (trans. Jean-Michel Turnbulletin).Taking away their Hula HoopsTM and doughnut privileges is one thing but we do need to get over the language barrier to get the best out of them. At one key point, as Conngiggskï took hold of the wing, making a rare move. He was called upon to “come tight”, “make space” and much more. He was flabbergasted by such requests and simply asked, “is it back door or front?”. You can not mid match alter the mating call of these sportsmen. The whole team stopped in wonderment as to what the hell the former Peckhamwoodpeckercider midfielder was talking about. One for the training ground and make no mistake.
Tactical changes again played their part in the game which turned the topsy-turvy game upside down and inside out. Culminating in a mid match transfer of two players. Al Kingali and Conngiggskï swapping shirts on the half way line. Some say this has been simmering for some time, some say the injury one claimed was self-inflicted, by squirting the contents of an orange segment at half time into the eye. It remains a mystery but it did nothing to hinder the game.
With the clock ticking, Gizzabaldi and Gilesinho took hold of the game by the proverbials and showed great form in offence. Which is more than can be said of the defence. Oh how Hansen enjoyed this one on MotD2. He was on fire. The fours took full advantage of the lack of defence and went for route 1.
In the space of 2mins 23secs the Johnny Halliday of the Benetton front-line Jean-Michel Turnbulletin had a hat-trick (trois buts). Down the middle, two touches and it was in off the post, and then the same again. Hansen could not tell these goals apart - they were identical and the keeper could do nothing to stop the sniper on the run.
Both Al Kingali and Waddolucci, not forgetting Roperaroo, had fabulous moments to take home to their loved ones. Waddo smashing the ball into a space of 2.2inches square. It was impossible, but it was hit with such venom it squeezed in. Similarly Al Kingali who is doing extra Mountain Bike training and dining on dry curry only under the watchful eye of Juande Vamos, had the engine
of Keano in his day; he ran for the full 90, and got his just desserts (dry profiteroles, but hold the chocolate sauce, Juande’s watching). A handful of glorious net singers. Roperaroo, well he had the goal of the night, some say. After an audacious shimmy, he rounded a defender, took a pass on the run, just outside the area, he volleyed the beast with his instep: bosh it bent from left to right, Goodnight!
It was a difficult one to call for the stickers. Basically we were all winners on the night but Turnbulletin clinched it (the Marmite PotM award) with the new signings not far behind.
The final score, an amazing 13 each. Now that is worth the license fee alone.
Thank you DSAFC.
With the clock ticking, Gizzabaldi and Gilesinho took hold of the game by the proverbials and showed great form in offence. Which is more than can be said of the defence. Oh how Hansen enjoyed this one on MotD2. He was on fire. The fours took full advantage of the lack of defence and went for route 1.
In the space of 2mins 23secs the Johnny Halliday of the Benetton front-line Jean-Michel Turnbulletin had a hat-trick (trois buts). Down the middle, two touches and it was in off the post, and then the same again. Hansen could not tell these goals apart - they were identical and the keeper could do nothing to stop the sniper on the run.Both Al Kingali and Waddolucci, not forgetting Roperaroo, had fabulous moments to take home to their loved ones. Waddo smashing the ball into a space of 2.2inches square. It was impossible, but it was hit with such venom it squeezed in. Similarly Al Kingali who is doing extra Mountain Bike training and dining on dry curry only under the watchful eye of Juande Vamos, had the engine
of Keano in his day; he ran for the full 90, and got his just desserts (dry profiteroles, but hold the chocolate sauce, Juande’s watching). A handful of glorious net singers. Roperaroo, well he had the goal of the night, some say. After an audacious shimmy, he rounded a defender, took a pass on the run, just outside the area, he volleyed the beast with his instep: bosh it bent from left to right, Goodnight!It was a difficult one to call for the stickers. Basically we were all winners on the night but Turnbulletin clinched it (the Marmite PotM award) with the new signings not far behind.
The final score, an amazing 13 each. Now that is worth the license fee alone.
Thank you DSAFC.
Friday, February 22, 2008
DSPACF 15 Peckhamwoodpeckercider AFC 6
Constantin Conngiggski is in a sul...sorry away.
Wolfgang Wolfkaiser sent the following press release:
"I'm afraid that I will not to be available for selection in tonight's match or next week's crucial Dulwich Champions Leaguequalifier due to my contractual obligations as a tactical consultant with the Oesterreichische Fussball Bund
to whip those hopeless yodel kickers (short: yokels) into shape before this summer's Euro tournament.In my absence I would like you to feel 10 feet tall and play fearless attacking football to give everyone a bit of a lift, remember the fans are all honest sheet metal workers who pay a lot of money to follow you around. Then take the lessons learnt away and turn them into positives and build upon them for the next match which is the one you will need toconcentrate on, one at a time. Remember, you can only get better. I'll be following the live score updates over the telexticker."
Wolfgang Wolfkaiser sent the following press release:
"I'm afraid that I will not to be available for selection in tonight's match or next week's crucial Dulwich Champions Leaguequalifier due to my contractual obligations as a tactical consultant with the Oesterreichische Fussball Bund
to whip those hopeless yodel kickers (short: yokels) into shape before this summer's Euro tournament.In my absence I would like you to feel 10 feet tall and play fearless attacking football to give everyone a bit of a lift, remember the fans are all honest sheet metal workers who pay a lot of money to follow you around. Then take the lessons learnt away and turn them into positives and build upon them for the next match which is the one you will need toconcentrate on, one at a time. Remember, you can only get better. I'll be following the live score updates over the telexticker."
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Too Bibilicious for Ya!
DSPAFC 8 - Colors of Benetton Utd 7Att. 61,409
It was bibtastic this crisp evening. Oh what a turn out it was. A full squad minus a few stalwarts on display on the hour and all willing for the off. Gizzabaldi dispensed the colours and without any hesitation it was ON!
Team selection done, it was now time for formation. Too often in the past the DSPAFC have been rash in this department and paid for it late doors. Today was not a day to risk anything but attacking football of the highest order. The home side huddled together for what the crowd, almost to capacity, felt was an eternity. The new Italian-influenced Diamond Encrusted formation with a hint of Cubic Zerconia on the flanks was the plan. What a plan it was. Oh my gosh.
The Limey Greens Vs the Tangerines, a pure 5v5. We got our five a day and then some. Vitamins and minerals were strewn about the field of dreams come the final clunk of the final 10pence in the electricity metre.
The flow was at times a little pedestrian, especially in the final hour when it looked like the extra training sessions set by the headmaster had left some of the internationals drained. But for the first flourish of frenzied phantasmagorical football this was a thing to behold, one to tell the kids about, or one to tell your Facebook friends about if the kids won’t listen.
The teams seemed a tad nervous at first, this despite the fact that the numbers added up to two identical equally odd numbers, the goals were in their allocated positions, the teams had clear kit colour differences, the ball was pumped up. But who’s that ? A young hopeful for the future on the sideline ready to enter the fray if needed. Kitano Coweyscatsi even helped out the ball retrieval staff, held court as a fledgling pundit back at the pavilion and looked set to replace his old man in the final minutes after an injury. Hold on young man, it'd take more than that to remove the 4 goal outside right from the Arena which he lit up with a double brace and several which rebounded from the Utd goalposts and crossbar.
This exhibition was a walk in the park of dreams for these seasoned bibbers.
Passing was crisp, the dew played its part though, movement early doors was gradual and problems with vision were expressed. “Is there a postal strike tonight or what?” Conngiggskï suggested to Gizzabaldi mid-match, having seen his arch enemy hit the bark 5 out of 5. Not bad for Soccer Sunday on Sky with the has-beens, but we are talking about this group of men at their peak.
The field or should I say the fields of dreams seemed more
vast this evening. It was mainly due to the inevitable absence of teams on number 2 and 3. The outcome we saw some weeks ago, as the younguns tried in vain to get a game with the masters. “Oh you are short a man tonight, can we play”. “Oh there is a conference in Harlow tonight, if you guys are shy, I will be kicking a ball against the gate for a full 40” and such.They realised that with our embarrassment
of riches, they could not spend their night living a dream, the dream we were living, poor bastards. But in time they will realise the golden rule. What the head of an experienced pro says will eventually reach his shooting boot. It is just the extra wisdom takes its time to reach the sweet spot.The players collectively have a manner about them in which this is displayed (but more of that another day).
However the comical information-relay-
delay sticker goes to multiple guilty parties tonight. Gizzabaldi for his mystifying, midfield ball entrapment, followed by triple pirouette and landing on his arse; both Coweyscatsi and Waddolucci’s Ronaldinho impersonations on the flanks; and referee Jorge Satantango’s below-par efforts. Having cautioned Garrattino for a challenge 
which saw Wolfkaiser nursing several of his metatarsals (at last we know how to spell it) and looking in vain for the magic sponge, he booked him again for upending Campellese in the dying minutes but didn’t dispatch him to the sin-bin. 
In the opening minutes DSPAFC were denied “a stonewall penalty” according to John Barnes, for a handling outside the D offence. Not for the first time this season Satantango’s European Cup final dreams look to be in tatters.With tele-votes still coming in the Bisto and Marmite awards still hang in the balance but with Waddolucci's twinkle toed performance and free-scoring Coweyscatsi and an array of top-drawer finishes to choose from (gloss, matt and woodchip - the latter reserved for Gizzabaldi's own goal in the first minute of play) by Wolfkaiser, Campelese, Garrattino, Al Kinghali, Gilesinho, Lohmann and Conngiggski to choose from, there is a lot to ponder.
Breaking news: the embarrassment of riches led to a jam in the broadband connection of the editorial team caused by an overwhelming vote by the public. On a recount the decision for Marmite PotM went to C. Coweyscatsi and the Ahhh! Bisto goal of the match to M. Waddolucci. What a brace of assets to any team!
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Frozen 99 forgotten in a Cappella 8-8
Amid all the talk of being frozen on 99 caps it was easily forgotten that King Sunny Ade Aderonski had missed out on his 63rd appearance for Colors of Benetton Utd, Roperaroo on his 17th and El Darrylinho on his 45th. These landmarks may lack the ring of the 100th international cap, but as they stand or limp on the threshold of their 63rd, 17th and 45th appearances respectively it is high time the media turned their attention to these players, out of favour at one point perhaps, but poised for greatness on their returns. "I will pick whoever is match-fit and impressing me on the training ground and in the stadium (and at breakfast). No-one is ruled out and certainly if Aderonski, Roperaroo and Darrylinho (another casualty of the new regime is the 'ski', 'roo' and 'nho' nicknames heard in the training ground under the McClaren regime) declare themselves match-fit I will consider them. I can't as you say in English say fairer than that", stated new Utd supremo A. Cappella in a pre-match press-briefing.Hi-Vis did the Biz
What a night! What a turn out! What a display fitting the launch of the long awaited strip. This night had everything, every ingredient, every possible encounter and one inevitable result, the inevitable draw to match a game of evenstevens. On the eighth hour we knew something special was about to occur. Eager as ever Coweyscatsi, new signing Ballesssssterian and Conngiggski were questioned by the ever-keen steward as to their intentions. To which they replied in unison, “we are a bit keen”. Understatement of the night.
Gizzabaldi, having held onto the purse strings, from the almost windfall, from the squad’s almost progression in the Milk Cup qualifiers. He took it upon himself to purchase new home and away kits for the boys. The Committee decided in an Extra Extraordinary General Meeting that the off white football strip of the away squad did not distinguish itself fully for those paying the lesser Black and White Television License fee.
Hi-Vis was the future and Gizza made it so.
The game lived up to expectations and then some. It was ON. From the off it was high tempo and although it started off as a traditional 5v6, in the back of the minds of the capacity crowd, the general feeling was that a surprise was looming.
How well they read the game! With the 5 looking a bit out of sorts and a couple down it looked bad. But the school governor of the midfield arrived through the mist and Dry Ice, continuing the charade which had seen him nearly lured to a seat in the Toon boardroom to the left of Dennis Wise. His arrival was likened to that of a guardian angel. Der Kaiser (AKA the Guvnor-guvernator) was freed from the shackles of teacher’s pet, or class rep. He took hold of the game by the scruff of the neck and nurtured the saplings and budding twiglettes who had filled his accustomed role while away on apple for the teacher training.
The game was to quickly take on a new complexion. It became a battlefield of not only determination but also pride in the new shirt.
The shirts themselves were designed to a very high spec and ensured the players were still distinguishable through transparency. Football is Life is still on display and so it should.
It turned out to be a laser-assisted but sporting game. The bibs were dispersed casually yet the selection was calculated. Taking into account the Africa Cup Of Nations and fatigue factors, future Milk Cup qualifiers and general appearance. Some complained of a glare and visual impairments caused by the new kit. Our pundit on MotD2, the great Lee Sharpe, disagreed and stated for the record, “in my day my vision was always a bit messed up, the bibs merely add to the whole feel of the game”. What a pro.
It was ON2 bookings for naked torso celebrations by Coweyscatsi and Conngiggski marred a game which was otherwise characterised by conduct straight out of the top drawer of decorum and understated sartorial elegance. The modern 'celebration' is a far cry from the properly tucked-in shirts of yesteryear. And players of former eras did not need to rely on 'dummies', having built-in celebratory moustaches. That goes for stepovers as much as for 'soothers'. A swift droop of either side of the 'tache was enough to deceive even some of the most
solid defenders, while the celebratory stroke of the caterpil-lipper sent the unmistakeable message: "I've scored a goal!" Keep the shirts on laddies. Save it for the samba soccer season will you.DSPAFC supremo Makkapakka McClaren took the unusual step of wielding the magic sponge himself, patroling the technical area with a purpose-made spongemobile.
It was certainly needed it to wipe the smiles off Jay-Jay Lohmann's face as he turned in a vintage performance capped with a wonderfully executed side-footed goal for the home side, and off Coweyscatsi's fizzog as he propelled the
ball at 133 mph into the top corner for DSPAFC (recipient of the Ahhh Bisto! goal of the match sticker). His trademark whippet like sprint down the flanks, this time, with the ball, he took it early doors, outside of the trusted right, and in a blaze of glory, scorched the onion sack. It was a crowd pleaser, goodnight. As he later explained on the wireless radio it was merely number 3 on his personal top ten from the noughties and number 11 on his top 100 averaged over his career to date. MacClaren was making a rare appearance on the touchline, prompted no doubt by the fact that his replacement in the home side's technical area, A. Cappella, came with his own brand of tactics all packed tightly in his Luis Vuitton manbag.The tackling was accurate and fair as the new hi-Vis shirts
enabled long-distance assessment of the opponent and the selection of the appropriate lunge, tug, trip or elbow. PotM (by unanimous decision) went to M. Garrattino for general omnipresence, timely tackles and quotations in the face of adversity. "No-one believed in me", he opined as, his team trailing 7-8, he sprayed passes to all corners of the arena only to find the front two exchanging text messages (SMS) in the final third. DSPAFC however are not called that for nothing and they soon rallied round the fleet-footed centre-half as he led them to a magnificent equaliser. "He was on fire, sparking, spitting fire from his shooting boots which caused an inferno in the Tangerines defence. He was up town, down town, turn your feet around town, Chemical Brothers revolution. He was all over the patch and pitch. So much so he even covered the post match pavilion, with a lunging tackle" observed Lorro.
As Wolfkaiser returned to the home-side's midfield the diamond formation
found itself with all facets operational. Gone was the open diamond formation of last week which saw them adapt with difficulty as if to a new test set by A. Cappella. "It's going to be interesting to see what new things the new gaffer wants to teach us, and if these new things are different from what he (Makkapakka MacCLaren) taught us", reflected Waddolucci. Seve Ballessssssterian took up the theme: "Each player knows what needs to be done, and if you look at it, the new manager has come in here and everyone is on their toes. There is a new 'look-at-me, look-at-me' attitude and that's got to be good". Jay-Jay Lohmann quipped that even he was down in time for breakfast: "Well he's won all the major trophies, so the lads want to show him (Cappella) that they can win even the small everyday trophies such as a bowl of branflakes".Cappella has yet to appoint a permanent captain and there was certainly a sense that several of these egos could don the armband. Turnbulletin said of his customary hat trick and a bit: "as a striker you just want to put the ball in the net, and at the end of the day, that's what I did, 3 or 4 times. It's up to him what system he wants to play, and if I'm on my ownio (moi seul, as he put it himself) up front, well, that's up to him too. The lads are giving me a bit of stick about it alright. Time will tell".
So speedy was Conngiggski for DSPAFC as he weaved his way 
down the left flank that the defence could have been forgiven for thinking there were two of him on the pitch. Indeed some of the pundits back at the pavilion expanded on this idea: "well if you consider the role he played under Makkapakka MacClaren during his stint with Barcelona - just behind the two boys up-front - and compare it with the more familiar role he had tonight, with the same manager except not at the Camp Nou, you've got to say it's a plausible conclusion to come to that there might have been two of him on the pitch - at times - tonight. Whatever way you look at it it's got to be a major plus for DSPAFC" explained Gavin Peacock.
down the left flank that the defence could have been forgiven for thinking there were two of him on the pitch. Indeed some of the pundits back at the pavilion expanded on this idea: "well if you consider the role he played under Makkapakka MacClaren during his stint with Barcelona - just behind the two boys up-front - and compare it with the more familiar role he had tonight, with the same manager except not at the Camp Nou, you've got to say it's a plausible conclusion to come to that there might have been two of him on the pitch - at times - tonight. Whatever way you look at it it's got to be a major plus for DSPAFC" explained Gavin Peacock.Tuesday, January 29, 2008
A masterclass for students of the beautiful game
DSPAFC Hotspur 16 Goners of Benetton Utd 5att. 63, 247
If this was a cook-off, the DSAFC line-up would have had Gordon Ramsay in mid-field, J. Oliver on the flanks, Nigella in the engine room, Anthony Worrell Thompson ‘tween the sticks, Keith Floyd in attack and Delia Smith as player manager. What a culinary delight we had. The taste buds were tingled and toyed with for the full 90.
The 8’o clock kick off was looking unlikely at 8’o clock, a mere 3 were present and amidst internet confusion and it being the end of the transfer window it was looking ominous. But as ever through the London mist they appeared like overpaid pampered clothes horses in their splendour.
A formation of 4 v 5 was quickly arranged through the old favourite whites the visitors/off whites the home side. At the off Campellese questioned the numerical makeup and had a brief mid-field banter filled chat with his marker Conngiggskï. “We may need to do the old school half time shuffle”, or something of that ilk. He had fear in his eyes as he saw what was potentially a one horse race.
Pitch No 2 were brave, but noticing our ability, requested a match-off. They were men-down and asked for a game. We looked around and saw what could have been a situation.
“Grow up and watch and learn” was the holler from Waddolucci.
“Come back in 10 years” was the general consensus from the rest. It’s great to see the youth witnessing such glory week-in-week-out, but really we did them a favour, allowing their game to develop at its own pace rather than subject them to the humiliation of a lesson in how it’s done from us.
That horse – erm... horse? - became a beast of a foursome.
Early doors the 5 took hold of the game. A couple up and the whites sat back to admire their superior number and ability, only for the 4 to take advantage of the stall they set out early doors. The stall in question was doing a roaring trade, best Nanas, Pomegranates and 2 for a pound the lot was being screamed throughout the crowd. It was ON!
Before the 5 knew it they were 6-2 down. The mighty 4 had speed, agility and the heads did not drop. Unlike the famous 5 when pudding was withheld after their new shoes had got scraped on the garden wall as they solved a mystery. Sulking, petulant cursing and the rest were soon to follow. Aderonski was singled out for some rough treatment as the clock ticked away,
while Gizzabaldi was subjected to an off-the-ball incident not seen by referee Jorge Satantango. Clashing with Conngiggskï on the edge of the D, a minor scuffle soon turned into a full-scale fracas. Both players were lucky not to take an early bath.The 4 DSAFC were on fire. The Health and Safety chiefs were on standby. As Hoddle is my witness they were showing all in the last week of the window transfer what they were made of. Stern stuff is all I can say.
Keegan, who has been having lengthy talks with midfield supremo Wolfkaiser, allegedly, re. the possible Director of football position, was notably missing.
Still no sign of those pins in midfield.
The flair of the 4 was at times supernatural. Gizzabaldi having the game not only of his life, but of his dreams. His recent detox, coupled with his more recent tampering with retox (in a controlled environment), have paid dividends. What a cocktail of sublime tinkering. He appeared to have had adhesive
substances on his shooting boot this night. It clung to his pegs like a limpet. He danced around the field, shimmied, shuffled and like the great Barry Scott would say Cillit Bang TM. He banged he banged, oh baby he moved he moved, Sorry I moved onto Rikki Martin .It was poetry in motion. Bang went the sphere, he converted from every conceivable angle, bagging a quadruple brace or a 2 and 2/3 hat-trick.Al Kinghali along with his teammates had a funfair. The talk of the night was the new tactic in the DSPAFC display cabinet of technical excellence. Oh yes, bring on Mr Whippy. Scoop? One scoop or two?
And a 99 to boot. Add to that a few hundreds and thousands, and what about a dash or two of raspberry sauce, and you have about the size of it. And still change out of a five pound note for all those who had come through the Arena turnstiles to gorge themselves on this wafer and ice confection.But as ever the downfall of the ascendant team came to haunt. What followed was a display of showboating which even Berbatov
would have been embarrassed by. The adhesive glue which Gizzabaldi had been used to appeared to have been sniffed by all and he was lucky not to be cautioned for attempting a back heel when he was clean through and facing the other way to begin with. They could not kill off the game. Being 15-3 ahead, the game was there for the taking, with 5 minutes to go.PotM went, by unanimous decision, to Gizzabaldi. However on this display of fighting for his cause, corner and every corner, Al Kinghali is the recipient of a new award, the Keown (sticker). His rapid-fire tackling in the 85th minute left a trail of overturned Goners from centre circle to D as he singlefootedly demolished the last remaining hopes of the equaliser.
With Waddolucci claiming that a curse had been put on the diamond geezer (see below) formation of the visitors, and evidence of strange magnetic forces (or perhaps magpies) operative in the vicinity of the home D., Gilesihno still celebrating after recent events in north London, Jay-Jay Lohmann thwarted by the flat back 4 of the home side and distracted by the flat pack 4 of his recent trip to IKEA,
and Garrattino led into an offside trap of his own construction, things were not going to go according to the ‘romance of the cup’ scenario. With half the production team on that particular show off doing charity work and several central characters still playing their part in the Tyneside pantomime, or else playing a key behind-the-scenes role in the Wearside revival, it will be hard for them to take any pluses away from this one.A press release from W. Wolfkaiser: "No doubt the press will claim to see right through the club's official statement that I'm left out of the squad due to light calf strain and speculate about an impending transfer to Tyneside. I would like to take this opportunity to clarify that the pictures of me with Kevin Keegan that appeared in the tabloids today were taken in a night club where I met the Mighty Mouse on a purely social occasion." The editorial team at the blog have been passed on this official press release but I cannot guarantee that the media will not exploit ambiguities in the statement. Wolfkaiser's longstanding friendship with Dennis Wise is of course not going to help matters. The Keeganwolfwaiser (as the tabloids are calling it) dreamteam speculation has sent the Geordie Nation into a spin not seen since the days of Jimmy Nail's number one. "I should be so good for you". Or was that the hit by his former Peckham neighbour, Delboy Trotter? Or Rodders? Answers on a postcard but the sentiment is apt whatever anyone's postcard says.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
DSPAFC find inner Ipanema in North Dulwich
Many facets of the beautiful game were on display on this windswept eve. From the west it looked like an embarrassment of riches; from the east a pandora’s box; from the north a midfield melée from 1982 and from the south a wonderfully threaded pass beating the off-side trap of days of yore. But from the north-east came a gale that would have caused lesser mortals to stay home with a cuppa and a couple of Holby re-runs. 
No wintry conditions however could deter these champions of the sphere from showing form, grace and determination.
What a turn out, not only in their newly acquired attire (as mentioned last week) but in number and spirit. A healthy amount of pros were ready for the 8’o clock call and the rest were not too far behind. The crowd were bouncin’. It was ON!
Jean-Michel Turnbulletin in particular was looking keen. He was throwing
shapes, jivin’ and body poppin’ each time the ball of dreams entered his personal space, and that was before the off. He had a determination after kick-off which would unhinge any defence in the league.
Controversy was rife early doors and make no mistake. A full squad of eager sportsmen at the ready and no bibs, not to mention no golden gloves. The usual plan B came into play. Whites/off whites Vs the Benetton Colors.
It didn’t tally. For the first time in the history of DSPAFC the theory of the number of light coloured purchased t-shirts of the sort found in the wardrobe of the average player equalling the number of multi-coloured garments purchased by the rest did not weigh up. Numberswise that is.
Conngiggskï had to give up his newly sponsored personalised shirt to Roperaroo.
The confusion which followed was uneasy but brief, for the whites/off whites, apart from Conngiggskï himself who could not pass either to himself or his doppelganger, “the wolf of goals in my clothing” as he later, somewhat incomprehensibly, put it. The emperor’s new clothes, so to speak, the situation was his undoing.
The formation of 6v5 was not new by any means, “au contraire” as Turnbulletin observed, but this night there was not only a new signing on a Bosman - Seve Ballllllllllsterian signed from Rotherham - but also a steely determined vibe which shook the stand’s foundations.
An early lead from the flashy 5 was soon to lead to a further flashy extension lead from the 5. They were all over the higher number and make no mistake. The only mistake being, as per usual, complacency.
Conngiggskï took hold, metaphorically, of the match ball, only for it to be retracted after his dismal stint ‘tween the sticks. 4 goals in as many minutes. At least he scored the same number at the other end. Gizzabaldi had an equally prosperous time on the offence with 4, but he too fell victim to the showboating goalkeeping stunts that have occasionally marred his handiwork in the ‘D’. The young hot shot from the north soon read him like a book. He had him cover to cover, done and dustjacked in a trice. Dive early and you will pay the price.
The new Keeganesque messiah signing showed all the signs of a real gem.
Our inside reporter, inside a locker, in the locker room of the Arena, overheard him stating, post-match, that “the universal language of football” was the main means of communication in evidence at the spectacle he had just helped to ignite. How true!!!!!!!!!
With minutes ticking away to a 10-9 victory for the home team, it was Alamo central with Roperaroo resorting to route one football, trips by Gilesinho to the corner flag and possession football led by Garrattino straight out of the top drawer. Consternation as referee Jorge Satantango penalises Roperaroo for handling outside the D. He points for an indirect free-kick and Turnbulletin doesn’t need to be asked twice to turn it into the inviting sac d’oignons. Remonstrating with the referee, Aderonskï is cautioned. But it’s just the incentive he needs singlehandedly to pick the game up by the scruff of the neck and drag his team back. Oops not for long. 10-11 in favour of the visitors. They don’t call him King Sunny Ade for nothing. Two goals at the death seal it for the home side. A strike force unrivalled by all but that at “the Lane” took a step
back to allow Aderonskï to boss the park. 12-11. As the bossa nova rhythms kicked in, he put on a display of Ipanema karaoke in celebration. The crowd, of course, went "Ahhh."
The forestry commission are looking into complaints, as the robust tree trunks and maturing pine saplings which were ever present all season in mid-field were lacking. Environmental groups are said to looking into why such a green belt was destroyed, as if overnight. The middle of the park was, as a consequence, carnivalesque, a bull run, a feast for any forward thinking forward with a forward-thinking mind. Such nights are made for the likes of Jay-Jay Lohmann and Al Kinghali. They queued up like urchins outside the January sales or compulsive podders outside Apple’s London HQ eager to convert the cash of their team’s hard-won scoring chances into the sofa or podphone of goals. But gravity, wind, voodoo and vindaloo seemed to conspire against them as mysterious near and far misses heaped on the agony for the visitors.
The excuses of the teams being depleted by the African Cup of Nations and transfer issues were numbed by what was on offer. A goal fest. An exhibition game, within a testimonial, within a game of dreams. Basically, a kaleidoscope of folly along with a thunderstorm of brilliance.
It was a game which reached high levels on the Enjoyometer TM scale without giving too much to shout about. A game of many facets.
Conngiggskï having found a new robust approach to the game, clearly took out Coweyscatsi late doors, to the screams of the away crowd, who called for his head, in red. Never one to turn the other cheek ‘Giggskï seemed to relish his revenge, but then a bit of relish always comes in handy when that particular plate is served up, as it was tonight, cold. However, in Keano style, the ex-SundIreland winger took his hand and said, “I would have done the same”. What a pro, what a gent, what a gem in the tiara of the clubhouse cabinet.
Marmite PotM has to go to the Golden Booted J.-M. Turnbulletin. The fella (or garçon as he would say himself) has a gift which could not be diminished by any amount of post-match-analysis and slo-mo.
Using these marvels of the modern world we can break down his contribution into three categories: twist, turn and shout. Modelling his tactics on a combination of several mid-50s rock n’ rollers and the forward play of the likes of Derek Doogan and Mike Summerbee, he twists from the hip, turns from the torso and lets the ball do the shouting as it whizzes its way into net past the keeper like a mosquito. 
At the final whistle he was presented the match ball for his 4-goal salvo only to be instantly refused the honour of taking it home, as the ball itself belonged to pitch number 3. The official ball was later retrieved in due course by Conngiggskï who had been responsible for the sole skied effort of the night. A record for the season, and it was off the thigh. Another one for Garth Crooks to mull over. All this as yet another name enters the player-manager hat
No wintry conditions however could deter these champions of the sphere from showing form, grace and determination.What a turn out, not only in their newly acquired attire (as mentioned last week) but in number and spirit. A healthy amount of pros were ready for the 8’o clock call and the rest were not too far behind. The crowd were bouncin’. It was ON!
Jean-Michel Turnbulletin in particular was looking keen. He was throwing
shapes, jivin’ and body poppin’ each time the ball of dreams entered his personal space, and that was before the off. He had a determination after kick-off which would unhinge any defence in the league.Controversy was rife early doors and make no mistake. A full squad of eager sportsmen at the ready and no bibs, not to mention no golden gloves. The usual plan B came into play. Whites/off whites Vs the Benetton Colors.
It didn’t tally. For the first time in the history of DSPAFC the theory of the number of light coloured purchased t-shirts of the sort found in the wardrobe of the average player equalling the number of multi-coloured garments purchased by the rest did not weigh up. Numberswise that is.
Conngiggskï had to give up his newly sponsored personalised shirt to Roperaroo.
The confusion which followed was uneasy but brief, for the whites/off whites, apart from Conngiggskï himself who could not pass either to himself or his doppelganger, “the wolf of goals in my clothing” as he later, somewhat incomprehensibly, put it. The emperor’s new clothes, so to speak, the situation was his undoing.
The formation of 6v5 was not new by any means, “au contraire” as Turnbulletin observed, but this night there was not only a new signing on a Bosman - Seve Ballllllllllsterian signed from Rotherham - but also a steely determined vibe which shook the stand’s foundations.
An early lead from the flashy 5 was soon to lead to a further flashy extension lead from the 5. They were all over the higher number and make no mistake. The only mistake being, as per usual, complacency.
Conngiggskï took hold, metaphorically, of the match ball, only for it to be retracted after his dismal stint ‘tween the sticks. 4 goals in as many minutes. At least he scored the same number at the other end. Gizzabaldi had an equally prosperous time on the offence with 4, but he too fell victim to the showboating goalkeeping stunts that have occasionally marred his handiwork in the ‘D’. The young hot shot from the north soon read him like a book. He had him cover to cover, done and dustjacked in a trice. Dive early and you will pay the price.
The new Keeganesque messiah signing showed all the signs of a real gem.
Our inside reporter, inside a locker, in the locker room of the Arena, overheard him stating, post-match, that “the universal language of football” was the main means of communication in evidence at the spectacle he had just helped to ignite. How true!!!!!!!!!With minutes ticking away to a 10-9 victory for the home team, it was Alamo central with Roperaroo resorting to route one football, trips by Gilesinho to the corner flag and possession football led by Garrattino straight out of the top drawer. Consternation as referee Jorge Satantango penalises Roperaroo for handling outside the D. He points for an indirect free-kick and Turnbulletin doesn’t need to be asked twice to turn it into the inviting sac d’oignons. Remonstrating with the referee, Aderonskï is cautioned. But it’s just the incentive he needs singlehandedly to pick the game up by the scruff of the neck and drag his team back. Oops not for long. 10-11 in favour of the visitors. They don’t call him King Sunny Ade for nothing. Two goals at the death seal it for the home side. A strike force unrivalled by all but that at “the Lane” took a step
back to allow Aderonskï to boss the park. 12-11. As the bossa nova rhythms kicked in, he put on a display of Ipanema karaoke in celebration. The crowd, of course, went "Ahhh."The forestry commission are looking into complaints, as the robust tree trunks and maturing pine saplings which were ever present all season in mid-field were lacking. Environmental groups are said to looking into why such a green belt was destroyed, as if overnight. The middle of the park was, as a consequence, carnivalesque, a bull run, a feast for any forward thinking forward with a forward-thinking mind. Such nights are made for the likes of Jay-Jay Lohmann and Al Kinghali. They queued up like urchins outside the January sales or compulsive podders outside Apple’s London HQ eager to convert the cash of their team’s hard-won scoring chances into the sofa or podphone of goals. But gravity, wind, voodoo and vindaloo seemed to conspire against them as mysterious near and far misses heaped on the agony for the visitors.
The excuses of the teams being depleted by the African Cup of Nations and transfer issues were numbed by what was on offer. A goal fest. An exhibition game, within a testimonial, within a game of dreams. Basically, a kaleidoscope of folly along with a thunderstorm of brilliance.
It was a game which reached high levels on the Enjoyometer TM scale without giving too much to shout about. A game of many facets.Conngiggskï having found a new robust approach to the game, clearly took out Coweyscatsi late doors, to the screams of the away crowd, who called for his head, in red. Never one to turn the other cheek ‘Giggskï seemed to relish his revenge, but then a bit of relish always comes in handy when that particular plate is served up, as it was tonight, cold. However, in Keano style, the ex-SundIreland winger took his hand and said, “I would have done the same”. What a pro, what a gent, what a gem in the tiara of the clubhouse cabinet.
Marmite PotM has to go to the Golden Booted J.-M. Turnbulletin. The fella (or garçon as he would say himself) has a gift which could not be diminished by any amount of post-match-analysis and slo-mo.
Using these marvels of the modern world we can break down his contribution into three categories: twist, turn and shout. Modelling his tactics on a combination of several mid-50s rock n’ rollers and the forward play of the likes of Derek Doogan and Mike Summerbee, he twists from the hip, turns from the torso and lets the ball do the shouting as it whizzes its way into net past the keeper like a mosquito. 
At the final whistle he was presented the match ball for his 4-goal salvo only to be instantly refused the honour of taking it home, as the ball itself belonged to pitch number 3. The official ball was later retrieved in due course by Conngiggskï who had been responsible for the sole skied effort of the night. A record for the season, and it was off the thigh. Another one for Garth Crooks to mull over. All this as yet another name enters the player-manager hat
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
