Mens 5 vs NPL M2

Welcome, readers, to another episode of the novel I am apparently currently writing, working title “the Famous Fives”. Apt really, because this game was a bit of a mystery which ultimately ended in the good guys winning followed by lashings of ginger beer round a picnic table.  

I can’t say this was a vintage 5s performance. After two quite emotionally draining weekends, this week we were faced with the next-to-worst team in the entire league on a sunny day more conducive to sitting outside the clubhouse with a cold lager, which admittedly we also did. So I’m afraid this one was perhaps more a slightly corked 2024 Sainsbury’s-own bottle of “blended red wines”, rather than the usual 2011 Musigny Grand Cru that we’ve been serving up in previous weeks. But as I always say about the cheap booze I’ve drunk in my life, including the dustbin full of a cocktail known only as “Yellow” which I drank copious amounts of at a university freshers ball, it doesn’t matter what it tastes like as long as it gets the job done. 

And while we did too often dredge up stuff from the very bottom of the hockey barrel, we were always likely to win this game. We’d scored 85 goals this season, they’d conceded 68. We’d won ten games in a row, they hadn’t. We were gunning for promotion, the only promotion they were dreaming of was as assistant to the deputy under manager in charge of ordering paperclips at the National Physical Laboratory HR department, or maybe in their intraclub fantasy curling league. 

We started ok. A little bit over-anxious I suppose; too desperate to get that first goal as prescribed by the now copyrighted (and, might I add, pretty successful) Spikeball Gameplan 3.0. It was a relief to get it after six minutes but instead of calming our nerves it seemed to work against us. We even gave away a penalty corner to a team who had scored 13 goals all season. A slightly fortuitous second goal got us safely into half time, and after the break we relaxed a bit more, played some decent hockey, and didn’t give them a sniff until the 70th minute, by which time we were home, dry, fed and in the bath with a fat cigar and an au pair called Inga. 

Definitely a few things to tidy up, and certainly a need to be calmer and less panicky on the ball. Goals will come, goals pretty much always do come; we just have to make sure we don’t try and force them. Just trust our superior skills - as individuals, yes, but also as players who support one another and open up good options all over the pitch - and we will gradually dominate oppositions. We were too hasty at times today, and when we lowered the pressure gauge we were much better. 

I think we’re sometimes guilty of assuming we will wipe other sides out, and we get frustrated when it’s not happening. But they have eleven hockey players who have come to get something out of the game. They won’t just bend over and let us take turns with Pringle’s bratwursts. To quote Swiss Tony, playing against bottom sides in the London Hockey League is a lot like making love to a beautiful woman: you‘ve got to make sure you have adequate protection where you need it, you need to be patient and take things slowly, and then when the time’s right you’ve got to get your stick in where it counts. Only after that can you light your pipe, stand back and admire your handiwork. 

Anyway, they all count, and it’s another three points and another five goals to add to the ticker. Like a be-permed Steve Cram in the 1986 Commonwealth Games 1500m, we’ve snuck up on the leaders coming into the home straight, and have cunningly slotted ourselves into second place - ie a promotion berth. Thanks to the drubbing Richmond dolled out on a flagging OCs side, we are now in the passenger seat of the division Datsun Cherry, finishing off all the fruit pastilles and telling the kids in the back to shut up. Exactly where I wanted us to be. 

Spike: one touch, one save. Argue with that. 

Maj: nice tidy game as you would expect from a man who specifically buys the right size Tupperware for the half time jelly babies, and who doesn’t leave the house without a stopwatch and a little notepad. Managed his time well, gave us great width for our big switches across the back, and controlled the ball better than pretty much anyone else on the pitch. No matter how hard a pass came to him, he would trap it stone dead, like hitting a sparrow with a v500 cricket bat. Highlights for me were Maj trying to vault the boundary fence at the clubhouse and nearly ripping the gusset of his new trousers, and rear-ending their midfielder in an entirely inappropriate manner during the second half, thus earning him the new nickname ‘Justin’, because from where I was standing it looked like he might have been just in. 

Bish: tricky game for Bish because there was hardly any defending to do, but that allowed him to go marauding up the right wing, and he did some fantastic interplay with James and Tom out there. Possibly guilty of trying to force things in the first few minutes, Bish did relax into the game, and by the end he’d become probably the key man building up attacks. Watching Bish run at players brings to mind a herd of wild mustangs galloping majestically across the Mongolian plains, their lush manes billowing in the wind as they charge through vast, expansive fields, but hopefully not tripping themselves up like Bish did inexplicably on the half way line. Although it might be as funny, watching a horse fall over for no reason at all. 

Pringle: typically robust performance from the Deloitte Devastator, calming any fears that he’s actually an NPL mole, whose mission it was to sabotage our defensive line at training. Only one defensive lapse let NPL’s OAP brigade through on goal early in the first half, and after that Rob pulled up the drawbridge. Short corner injections were absolutely spot on, and that’s going to be really useful for us regardless of where we are next season. An otherwise pretty comfortable game was topped off with a decent amount of cake at the clubhouse, where he got a couple of MoM nominations. But don’t be fooled by Pringle’s cherubic Winchester Cathedral choirboy appearance: he loses serious marks this week for coming up with THE most offensive nickname I’ve ever heard since my old football manager called our centre forward who had a bad stutter “Remix”.

Farmer: like the rest of the defence, Dave had a much calmer, more level-headed game than the headless chickens playing up front. He was able to break down pretty much everything that came through the middle, and even went on a couple of little jaunts deep into NPL territory, to show the cowboys up top how it’s done. Always vocal, if Farmer was a dog he’d be one of those stray ones you get on a random Greek island who stand outside your villa all night and just bark endlessly. You wonder what the other dogs must think, like “he’s going to have a sore throat in the morning” and they all nod. Highlight for me came during tea when Dave was explaining what you need to help junior players improve, and said “the main thing you need is nonce”. Which I’m pretty sure isn’t what he meant. Although who knows?

Brett: a newly streamlined BB stepped in to shore up our defence, and he had an absolute blinder. Mistake-free, confident and aggressive hockey was the order of the day at Brett’s Biltong Bistro, finding literal acres of space on switches, powering through NPL midfielders like a super hero dispatching henchmen left right and centre, and spraying stuff about like an insecure tomcat in a new neighbourhood. Brett gives us proper solidity at the back via a combination of energy, talent and having the appearance of an extremely intimidating Viking who hasn’t been pillaging for a long time. 

Duncs: peerless performance from Diamond Dave Duncan, pulling out all the stops in front of his good lady wife. I love the control DD has when in possession, twirling, swirling and pivoting like a Scouse ballerina in a little music box, and bewildering NPL midfielders, leaving them flummoxed, like an Everpool defender who’s just been nutmegged by Roy Race. Responsible for 68.6% of our possession today (I didn’t have much to do, alright?) the man they call Mr Conduit was the origin of nearly everything we did going forward, and is, I would say, perhaps the main reason we’ve won 11 on the trot. And it’s things like that which make him secure enough in his own manhood that he can drive that little blue Barbie car around town with absolutely no sense of shame whatsoever. 

Nickels: I thought Big Knickers had an absolutely storming game today. Asked to do things all over the shop, like an intern on their first day at Asda, Tom was outstanding regardless of the role. Tidying up at RB, making tackles at CM, linking up at right half, and absolutely rinsing NPL fullbacks when he bombed up the wings. Tom may not have the pace of an Olympic jaguar anymore, but his stick skills are up there with anyone in this team - or indeed in this league - and his enormous hockey brain continues to give us advantage over the more cranially challenged sides in this division. He truly was the Curly Wurly in an otherwise disappointingly mediocre chocolate bar Christmas stocking. 

Rich: joyous cameo from the Metronome Man, who keeps ticking regardless of the bum notes which may be being played around him. Rich has really found his role at the top of the diamond, and he has all the tools to do it brilliantly. Hammers, jigsaws, fiddly finesse watch-making tweezers, and a rechargeable battery that could put Duracell out of business. By the time he had to head off the game was won, and a number of MoM votes followed him out the car park. That’s it for this season for Rich, and I know I speak for everyone by sending him hearty thanks. He’s been a fantastic contributor. 

Jack A: another really good display from Jack “The Assassin” Allen, whose sense of positioning might be the best we’ve got. He has an engine like a Saab 9000 turbo: dependable with a bit of a burst, and still reliable after countless decades of use. He’s the guy who plays proper triangles in our team, like an actual hockey player, and whose subtle late arrivals in the D could and probably should have paid off more if we’d been a little bit more disciplined in front of goal. Alas this week the assassin went home with all the bullets still in his bandolier, but at least one MoM nomination in his back pocket. 

Ludders: worked his Daz-white socks off on this game, despite us playing in maroon, and was deservedly rewarded with a goal just before half time which gave us control of the fixture. One of the players who was probably too self-critical at times, Matt played much better in the second half when the pressure was off, finding space and keeping NPL on the backfoot for the remainder of the game. Goals are like girlfriends: you will eventually get one if you hang around patiently in the right places, but they’re much harder to come by if you’re too tense about it, and run about the place looking desperate. Luckily for us Ludders knows what he’s doing, and like a double glazing salesman cruising around in an XR3i wearing an irresistibly sophisticated cologne, he’s notched well into double figures this season. 

Shaun: quality cameo from Shaun “The Wildman” Wilding. Put himself about in the D creating problems for the oppo defence, found time and space down by the by-line, and played some lovely one-two stuff on the right hand side. Really pleased to see him grab a goal, and I have to say his goal was probably the best of the lot. Not necessarily from an individual skill point of view, but it was the goal I wanted us to score: patient build up, direct running at goal, two perfect passes, and a simple finish for Shaun who’d made himself some space. THAT’S how you take an entire defence out the game. 

Jack N: Jackie did two things outstandingly in this game: one absolute beaut of a pass in the second half, and a nice finish to put us 3-0 up early in the second half, a goal which settled us and pulled the momentum in our direction for the rest of the match. Plus, as usual, Jack was able to find space up front and out wide, making a few really nice leads, but was possibly also guilty of either trying to rush things but also contrastingly taking too long to get the ball under control. Not necessary when you have the beating of the defence through pace, positioning, passing and power. Keep it simple, lads!

James: this chap just gets better and better. He’s quick, he has the stick skills of a particularly gifted hockey Jedi, and he’s as enthusiastic as a cockapoo who’s been stuck in a car for five hours, who’s just been given a squeaky duck to play with. I don’t think I saw an NPL player actually get the ball off Sunders, as he twisted and turned his way through the defensive ranks like a breakdancer navigating six sets of revolving doors. Cutting in from the right he frequently took three or four players out the game, and on top of that he helped out at the back too. Loses marks for going all the way to the clubhouse, waiting for the rest of us to turn up, and then disappearing before we got there because he remembered he was actually supposed to be meeting his mates, but that doesn’t stop him getting this weeks MoM. Congratulations, young man!

Anyway, well done all on getting the win and keeping the run going. We have just one more hurdle to clear. Three more points puts us out of reach of two of the top four, so we know precisely what we have to do. WIN. No mathematical possibilities, no “let’s hope x get a result against y”, and no coasting through the last game of the season. Our year needs an exclamation mark at the end of it, a final piece of punctuation in what has been an incredible season, so let’s turn the printer on, make sure we have the right ink cartridges, and increase the font size to 72. No relenting, no early celebrating, and no crummy excuses that you’ve got to take the rabbit to the vet or you’ve got mild earache. We need you fit and available until the whole job is done. If that isn’t incentive enough, when this whole thing is finished and we’ve gone up you won’t have to waste three hours of your Monday reading this bilge anymore!

NB for those of you coming to the club party next week, let’s hope it’s a celebratory one, as we fly (I think) the solitary promotion flag for Epsom this season. For those of you who are coming to the 5s party the following week, keep your eyes peeled for details, iron your bigboy drinking trousers in advance, and draw some cash out of the nearest NatWest because some serious fines have been accruing!

In the meantime: can we think about training, fitness and getting yourselves up for the OKs match please. Indeed, we’ll need to be more than OK if we’re going to smash OKs and get ourselves up onto the next rung of the league ladder. OK?

Spike