� The match started in a conventional way with the trusted 4-4-2 formation being spearheaded by howling Hollo and tank-buster Aaron who led the assault. The grass was slippery and the first half was full of fast-moving action. Our defence, under strict orders to "talk to each other", talked and held their positions. Only once did the BBC slip away after a long ball from within their own half sent one of their players charging towards Moz. Our gatekeeper, with the assistance of our rapid-reaction force code-named �Wearmouth�, managed at the last minute to get the shot deflected.

� The action then moved to the other half with some fine midfield passing from Luke, Rowe�and Dan who, on two separate occasions, fired the ball towards Howling Hollo who sprang majestically into the air, hung their, swung his head at the ball, and missed it completely. An OBE for effort, the Maradona prize for style and the Napoleon decoration for no good. The ball's speed on the ground was later demonstrated by another good missed chance. Dan Sheriff summed up the first half with a "I demand an explanation for that..."

� That seemed to be that then. Fully soaked but goalless we ended the first half and the skipper summoned re-inforcements. The Veteranii of the Legions took up station in our third and second lines and, in a surprise move, Kelso was ordered forwards to right mid-half. This was excellent news for Kelso was keen for the challenge, although less clear about what a mid-half actually does.

3: Positions Aaaaah... that old chestnut from ye olde worlde days � the right mid half, otherwise known as the 'running around somewhere in some part of the pitch with some instructions to do something... like score, maybe. I took the role with some trepidation but typical Dutch courage and an instinctive awareness of the fortitude and encephallopathy requisite in this position, I triumphed like Hannibal forcing an elephant up his rectum between three slices of thinly-cut harvest bloomer. The resulting conquest of the Roman Empire was but a miniscule stretch of the imagination from that point on. Any more incongruous, mystical, unheard of positions are automatically the behest of William of Kelso from this moment forth.

� In the second half we began to apply pressure on the BBC. Luke had some excellent free kicks tipped over the bar and Aaron nearly found the net from a difficult angle. At this point the goddess Fortuna suddenly smiled upon�us. Aaron received the ball far into the BBC's half and crossed it into the box. Kelso, seeing that the BBC defenders were weary, rose and headed the ball down into the far right corner of the net for 1-0.

� The pressure grew on the BBC resulting in a booking for one of their players. But at the last moment we were robbed by a fine BBC goal that sailed over Moz into our net. The rain returned, but not the goddess, and when the final whistle went, the score remained 1-1.

� Will