Leicester City 1 -v- Huddersfield Town (Net.Terriers) 2
Land Ut Gods
Leeds Road, Huddersfield
31 May 1998
Team
LEICESTER CITY
Nobby, Porl, Darren "Dawn Chorus" Thrussell, Michael "is that a banana or are you pleased to see me" Lax, Robert "Aye up m'duck,
*that's* no Lestah accent" Watson, Bernie Muollo, Chris "Chas" Hubmann, David "Dave" Grice, Paul Griffiths, Pat Farragher,
Chris Stenson, Kelvin Herbert, Alex Mason, Neil Hallam, Phil Achurch.
Goalscorer: Alex Mason
Thanks as usual to Nobby for the reports on the day's activities...
After a very stressful and tiring slog trying to organise the Leicester City
entry, and worrying each time I received an email from one of my players
that it contained bad news, or apprehensively waiting for news of 3 New
Zealand tourists being deported, the long-awaited Land Ut Gods tournament
was upon us. Relying on expert information from Porl, a seasoned traveller
(used to jetting to such exotic places as Iran and Finland), I foolishly
agreed to leave Leicester at the crack of dawn (hah, no pun intended there,
Darren!!) on Saturday morning. So at *6.30am*, (a time that really should
come with a government health warning), waiting for me outside my luxury
palatial appartment in the Popemobile were Porl and Darren, ready to whisk
me off to some groovy faraway place.
Let me tell you about these 2 players. Darren, bless him, is one of the
kindest, sweetest guys I know but, boy, does he talk! At 6.30 in the morning
this aint good, especially when you've not been to bed before 2am for the
past fortnight and you're worrying about little things like game plans and
team formations. Eventually, after 2 solid hours of listening to his
exploits with some Liverpool girlie and hearing him only scratch the surface
(ooops, there goes another pun Daz!!!) of some juicy rumour from the club
only for him to then say "Obviously I can't say anymore than this ...", I
finally cracked and snapped at him! He was too busy chuntering away to
notice! He also has an unusual taste in undergarments.
Porl, meanwhile, is like a walking medical encyclopaedia and, before every
game, fills us in on his latest ailment ... yet still usually manages to
last the full 90 minutes!!! I have no idea of *his* tastes in undergarments,
however, or indeed if he's ever been to Liverpool.
Our journey was broken up by an impromptu teamtalk over a cuppa at Woodall
services before finally reaching a very deserted Leeds Road venue just
before 9am. It gave us an opportunity to have a quick squizz over the
facilities on offer and, I must say, we were pretty impressed with what we
saw. The Hudds lads had done us proud. I would have been even *more*
impressed had there been a Ladies Toilet open (pre-match nerves setting in)
but, since there wasn't, we reluctantly dragged ourselves to the nearby
Macdonalds. Obviously, being such committed and dedicated athletes, my
players and I don't usually go in for this sort of thing but today we had to
make an exception. The Macdonalds staff were obviously equally surprised to
see us at such an unearthly hour and the poor geezer outside sweeping the
flowerbeds (I kid you not! Must be a Yorkshire thing) was obviously caught
unawares too.
Minutes later we were joined by Pat (whose car, I understand, has a homing
device for such establishments), Kelvin, Chris S and Neil H. "You didn't
*really* leave Leicester at 8am, did you?" I gasped in disbelief. "No" said
Pat coolly, "5 past"!!! Jeepers! I was somewhat glad I'd declined his
earlier offer of a lift.
After downing our mineral waters and fresh fruit (!), we returned to Leeds
Road where people were starting to mingle. We were soon joined by Michael
Lax who, despite playing in our last 2 matches, I *still* didn't recognise
with clothes on and assumed he was an opponent. When he told me that he'd
left his Oxford home that morning *after* the time we'd set out from
Leicester, I was beginning to think Porl might have been a little
over-cautious with our departure time and that I could have had more than 4
hours sleep the night before after all!
With our 10.30 kick-off by now fast approaching I was trying not to show too
much concern that 6 of our party had still yet to arrive. One of these was
Neil "still got it in me at 52" James (sadly unavailable for selection due
to injury), who was travelling from Stockport with 2 of our players, Rob and
Paul G. (For those that don't know, Neil is one of our most dedicated
members and a regular in the Yetis team. Furthermore, he is single-handedly
breeding the next generation of Yetis players though hopefully time-keeping
isn't an hereditary trait!) Our other 3 absentees were our New Zealand
contingent, Bernie and "Chas" 'n' Dave. (Mind you, if *we* left Leicester at
6.30, what time do you think *they* had to get up?!!!)
Having been kept up to date by email this past month with news of the
threesome's exploits during their European Tour - most of which featured
"Chas" getting into some sort of strife somewhere - we were beginning to
fear the worst and started re-shuffling our famous Christmas Tree
Fairy-light formation.
However, we soon discovered that all the best things are worth waiting for,
and at 10.15am Bernie, "Chas" and Dave arrived and, after a quick headcount,
we declared ourselves ready, willing and able(ish) to take on the might of
Huddersfield Town IFC (my tip for Worldnet 98, BTW). Having inflicted a
shock defeat on them a fortnight ago in the League we were not as
apprehensive as we might have been although the Hudds lads were definitely
up for revenge. Must be uncool being beaten by a team managed by a girl, eh
boys?! ;-P
Before kick-off myself and my HT counterpart tossed (a coin!) in the centre
circle and did all the usual sporting crap like shaking hands and wishing
each other a good game. The organisers had introduced into the competition
rules, a requirement that all captains exchange pennants of the professional
clubs they represent. This is a *great* idea, epitomising the spirit of
Internet football, and one which I hope will carry over to WorldNET and the
like. However, little did I know the trouble (and bum-clenching
embarrassment) this was going to cause me. Despite raiding *all* our Fox
Leisure stores several weeks ago, the best I could come up were cheap, naff,
mini Steve Walsh (he of the quiff) testimonial jobbies - from *two* chuffin'
seasons ago! - and the club's insistance that they would not be getting any
real ones in till the new season. So with howls of derision and comments
like "That's a soddin' beer coaster love, not a pennant" still ringing in my
ears I had to face the humiliation of presenting this crock of shite to my
HT counterpart whilst he handed me a great, humongous, impressive number
that needed 6 strong men to winch onto the pitch.
And *then* he gave me a pennant. ;-D
And so, with formalities out the way, battle was able to commence. As with
all the games, this was played in a friendly and sporting nature with those
concerned doing their utmost not to let the tragic news about Ginger Spice
overshadow their day.
Porl filled in between the sticks (because, amazingly, our 15-person squad
didn't contain a single recognised 'keeper) and I adopted my usual
right-back berth where I was told, quite simply, by Phil to "get in the
pants" of the HT centre-forward I was person-marking. Whatever you say boss.
Perhaps it was more "heavy pants" than "in his pants", though, because five
minutes into the game our hosts broke through our breathless defence and
slotted past the hapless (and hatless) Porl. That was damn unsporting of
them, wasn't it.
We rallied round and threatened a few times with Bernie in particular
causing a few problems with his lightning pace and silky skills.
With Darren "rested" for this game, he had been assigned the task of making
notes on behalf of the management in his new Arsene About role which, at
half-time, were promptly ignored. After the break Hudds increased the lead
with a well-placed drive from the edge of the box after catching Porl off
his line. But still we didn't rest (despite the fact that some of us had
already been up for nearly 6 hours!) and minutes later we earned a penalty
which Alex buried with ease. I was too knackered by that time to do my -
by-now - world famous Ravanelli impressions. Besides, I was patrolling the
flank nearest where the main groups of spectators had congregated and I
didn't want to frighten any young children.
Our task was made that bit harder when we lost "Chas" for the rest of the
game and, as it turned out, the rest of the tournament after falling badly
on his knee and now facing possible horse-spittle treatment. :-(
Despite our efforts, however, another victory over the PSI pace-setters was
not to be and we trudged off after a difficult half hour with nothing to
show for it other than a few burns and some very weary limbs.
This report continues on the Wolves report page...
