In 1099, the warriors of the First Crusade entered the city of Jerusalem, and lead by Godfrey of Bouillon they spent 7 full days butchering the starving terrified Moslem community.
As it was yesterday as the mighty Corinthians of European/Christian descent clashed head to head with the Ramadan fasting Moslem opposition of Attlee.
The weak, battle weary forces of Islam having suffered heavy defeat in their previous outing looked famished of inspiration, when in fact, they were actually famished. Still, with the return of Davison and the debut of Mounsey the hunger of the likely champions was never going to be in question, which was suitably ironic given the condition of the oppositions eating patterns.
The butchery began immediately and from the first goal on it was never going to go the way of the infidels as everything they touched drifted the way of the Christian God.
2 goals from Brown including a penalty
A hatrick from Cenamor
2 from debutant Mounsey
2 from the captain
And 9-3 was the final score on a damp squib of a night.
Only Davison failed to make the score line, which when we are all booted out of Jerusalem will probably prove enough to spare his life.
September 10th for the next title deciding match. The tension mounts.
Friday, 28 August 2009
Friday, 21 August 2009
20/08/2009 Corinthian match report 3-2 Victory
There are grudge matches like Spurs – West ham, deep vitriolic rivalries like the early millennia Man United – Arsenal running midfield battles and then there is the deep undercurrent of disdain that characterizes an early evening crowd less game of 5aside between the Corinthians and Brewin. It’s the type of pitch battle that is spoken of decades later with protagonists being elevated to the status of leg hacker, raging beasts and bile spitting filthy animals.
Last nights clash was simmering, not quite the Vesuvius eruption that it could have been but certainly the earthquake that pre-empts a tsunami, wiping out homes and ruining lives.
A slow start for the Corinthians allowed Brewin to gain confidence and find their feet. Before the cobwebs could be blown from the closets of the blues, Brewin had grabbed a soft 2 goal lead. It was the type of atmosphere and sense of dread that but a season ago would have lead to a capitulation and ultimate defeat. These days though Corinthians are a different proposition, battle hardened and intelligent on the field.
A process of rebuild began, more possession, keep ball regardless of progression toward the opposition goal. A few diagonal runs began to surface, the occasional one-two all building pressure on the Brewin defensive line.
The first goal was forced through a crack, the slightest of openings and there was no going back. Brewin began dropping their shoulder into players making runs off the ball, shoving players in the chest and the psychological warfare that is constant complaining and appealing. Inevitably the Corinthians reacted in kind.
Deian nearly killed a man in the corner of the park. A fair challenge but against a wall, resulting in the victim clutching at his wounds like he’d just emerged from a napalm attack. Brown standing firm toward the end to see a much smaller challenger crunch into the floor with the force of a man who’d just fallen 10,000 feet from above. The clips, niggles and shoves were constant and unrelenting.
It wasn’t long before the Corinthian equalizer emerged and after one great stop from Gomez there was no looking back.
At the last, a sharp passing movement left Cenamor with not a little to do as he pushed past the defender and slotted home to a roar of satisfaction from the team.
Worthy of mention was the Brewin secret weapon. In goal they kept a rabid salivating beast of man as if someone had enraged a panther by shaving it, putting it on a chained leash and making it wear a pair of adidas tracksuit bottoms.
The final 5 minutes saw him tear out from between the sticks bearing down on Brown, Finnegan and Lewis, chops flapping in the wind, teeth bare and snarl eminent.
Brown trapped him in the corner, Lewis turned him and Finnegan coaxed him into what looked more like a case of GBH warranting several years in jail than a tackle.
But it was to no end. 3 more points, 6 in 6 and the championship in sight. The television rights for next season will be quite the windfall.
Last nights clash was simmering, not quite the Vesuvius eruption that it could have been but certainly the earthquake that pre-empts a tsunami, wiping out homes and ruining lives.
A slow start for the Corinthians allowed Brewin to gain confidence and find their feet. Before the cobwebs could be blown from the closets of the blues, Brewin had grabbed a soft 2 goal lead. It was the type of atmosphere and sense of dread that but a season ago would have lead to a capitulation and ultimate defeat. These days though Corinthians are a different proposition, battle hardened and intelligent on the field.
A process of rebuild began, more possession, keep ball regardless of progression toward the opposition goal. A few diagonal runs began to surface, the occasional one-two all building pressure on the Brewin defensive line.
The first goal was forced through a crack, the slightest of openings and there was no going back. Brewin began dropping their shoulder into players making runs off the ball, shoving players in the chest and the psychological warfare that is constant complaining and appealing. Inevitably the Corinthians reacted in kind.
Deian nearly killed a man in the corner of the park. A fair challenge but against a wall, resulting in the victim clutching at his wounds like he’d just emerged from a napalm attack. Brown standing firm toward the end to see a much smaller challenger crunch into the floor with the force of a man who’d just fallen 10,000 feet from above. The clips, niggles and shoves were constant and unrelenting.
It wasn’t long before the Corinthian equalizer emerged and after one great stop from Gomez there was no looking back.
At the last, a sharp passing movement left Cenamor with not a little to do as he pushed past the defender and slotted home to a roar of satisfaction from the team.
Worthy of mention was the Brewin secret weapon. In goal they kept a rabid salivating beast of man as if someone had enraged a panther by shaving it, putting it on a chained leash and making it wear a pair of adidas tracksuit bottoms.
The final 5 minutes saw him tear out from between the sticks bearing down on Brown, Finnegan and Lewis, chops flapping in the wind, teeth bare and snarl eminent.
Brown trapped him in the corner, Lewis turned him and Finnegan coaxed him into what looked more like a case of GBH warranting several years in jail than a tackle.
But it was to no end. 3 more points, 6 in 6 and the championship in sight. The television rights for next season will be quite the windfall.
13/08/2009 Corinthians Match report 5-4 Victory
This is D day, 5 games in with 5 wins to our name and Hawthorn, Attlee and Brewin to go, the battle is won but Victory in Commercial Street day is still a long way off.
Alexander Pope once said: Our business in the field of fight, Is not to question, but to prove our might.
We will live by this mantra:
Benjamin Franklin once said: We must all hang together, or assuredly we shall all hang separately.
I’m worried that one might be misconstrued in post match showers so ignore it.
The Corinthians raced to glory with a 5-1 lead 20 minutes into the match against a battle weary Brewin side. The football was majestic and the referee decisions flowed the way of the Corinthian with the momentum of a fat child rolling down a hill….presumably after being pushed. The final nail in the coffin of his insecurities that leads to a general sense of misanthropy an emersion in the Catcher in the Rye and inevitably him bringing a shot gun to school and killing 15 fellow pupils before dressing as private Pile and blowing his own fat brains out.
2 penalties soundly rounded off by Finnegan, Deian waltzed down the middle of the pitch, the opposition parting like the red sea before the inevitable shot rifled past the keeper. There was even a goal for Lewis. Whether the gasps that followed were awe or the ugly whispers of surprise we shan’t speculate.
All was well.
Suddenly Brewin turned on their characteristic steel, forcing mistake after mistake from a complacent Corinthians. Suddenly it was 5-4 and confidence was racked, if hadn’t been for the goal keeping heroics of Gomez all could have been lost. They just kept coming and the Corinthians looked like Frank Bruno, casually leaning on the ropes whilst Mike Tyson drove his ten tonne truck fists repeatedly into his jaw.
The grit and tenacity of Tjaadstra and Neville proved vital, dragging the game by the scruff of it’s neck back into an even battle, forcing yet another penalty, this time Finnegans mind games with the keeper proved inadequate and it was left to Cenamor to mis queue a strike after fantastic build up play the trickled under the keepers body and into the net for the 2 goal cushion.
A cushion that proved vital as it was suddenly 6-5 and a Brewin penalty was awarded. Heroics and perfect technique from Gomez saved the day and there was no looking back. Suddenly it was about keep ball and tackling so aggressive that it wouldn’t have been out place in the NFL.
The finest time wasting incident was when Lewis tracked the ball into the corner, defying physics he held off the two opposing players with arms which resemble something that might usually be found on a Barbie doll, then clung to the fence like a screeching spider monkey whilst they hacked at his legs. Help arrived in the guise of Deian juggernaught Glyn, plowing into the back of an unsuspecting Brewin player and taking over the role of ball hacker.
The final whistle rang out to the relief of all but Tjaadstra who’s final shot of the game was rolling into the back of the net, now uncounted, irrelevant, passed over like a woman for promotion in a 70’s office.
A hard fought victory, but we have to play them all over again next week, so the story is only half told.
See you then!
Alexander Pope once said: Our business in the field of fight, Is not to question, but to prove our might.
We will live by this mantra:
Benjamin Franklin once said: We must all hang together, or assuredly we shall all hang separately.
I’m worried that one might be misconstrued in post match showers so ignore it.
The Corinthians raced to glory with a 5-1 lead 20 minutes into the match against a battle weary Brewin side. The football was majestic and the referee decisions flowed the way of the Corinthian with the momentum of a fat child rolling down a hill….presumably after being pushed. The final nail in the coffin of his insecurities that leads to a general sense of misanthropy an emersion in the Catcher in the Rye and inevitably him bringing a shot gun to school and killing 15 fellow pupils before dressing as private Pile and blowing his own fat brains out.
2 penalties soundly rounded off by Finnegan, Deian waltzed down the middle of the pitch, the opposition parting like the red sea before the inevitable shot rifled past the keeper. There was even a goal for Lewis. Whether the gasps that followed were awe or the ugly whispers of surprise we shan’t speculate.
All was well.
Suddenly Brewin turned on their characteristic steel, forcing mistake after mistake from a complacent Corinthians. Suddenly it was 5-4 and confidence was racked, if hadn’t been for the goal keeping heroics of Gomez all could have been lost. They just kept coming and the Corinthians looked like Frank Bruno, casually leaning on the ropes whilst Mike Tyson drove his ten tonne truck fists repeatedly into his jaw.
The grit and tenacity of Tjaadstra and Neville proved vital, dragging the game by the scruff of it’s neck back into an even battle, forcing yet another penalty, this time Finnegans mind games with the keeper proved inadequate and it was left to Cenamor to mis queue a strike after fantastic build up play the trickled under the keepers body and into the net for the 2 goal cushion.
A cushion that proved vital as it was suddenly 6-5 and a Brewin penalty was awarded. Heroics and perfect technique from Gomez saved the day and there was no looking back. Suddenly it was about keep ball and tackling so aggressive that it wouldn’t have been out place in the NFL.
The finest time wasting incident was when Lewis tracked the ball into the corner, defying physics he held off the two opposing players with arms which resemble something that might usually be found on a Barbie doll, then clung to the fence like a screeching spider monkey whilst they hacked at his legs. Help arrived in the guise of Deian juggernaught Glyn, plowing into the back of an unsuspecting Brewin player and taking over the role of ball hacker.
The final whistle rang out to the relief of all but Tjaadstra who’s final shot of the game was rolling into the back of the net, now uncounted, irrelevant, passed over like a woman for promotion in a 70’s office.
A hard fought victory, but we have to play them all over again next week, so the story is only half told.
See you then!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
